By Delia Rosen
Murder’s at the menu during this savory debut. Gwen (nee Katz) Silver heard the brisket at her uncle’s Jewish deli, Murray the Pastrami Swami—the just one of its type in Nashville, Tennessee—was “to die for.” yet she didn’t observe that intended actually… while Gwen learns she’s inherited Murray’s, the local New Yorker leaves her chaotic occupation and messy divorce in the back of to begin over in Nashville. however the enterprise turns out doomed from the beginning. Murray’s taken his recipes and mystery checklist of meals providers to the grave with him, and ruthless actual property developer Royce Sinclair will cease at not anything to aim and sandwich Murray’s into his already overstuffed portfolio. Then, on Kosher Karaoke evening, longtime client Buster Sergeant bites into his brisket…and bites the dirt. The coroner says nutrition poisoning, yet Gwen’s now not confident. Now, with assistance from hunky police detective Beau McClintock, “Nashville Katz”—as Gwen is instantly nicknamed—will locate herself including “private investigator” to her resume—and a brand new like to her existence.
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Additional info for A Brisket, A Casket: A Deadly Deli Mystery
Cazzie quietly reached for her coffee and sipped. I did the same, but only after eating a mouthful of Cocoa Puffs from my cereal bowl. I was thinking maybe I should’ve had the Lucky Charms instead. I needed a drastic reversal of fortune. A green shamrock marshmallow surely couldn’t have hurt my chances. “There’s something more to this,” Cazzie said. ” I nodded slowly. “I don’t understand why the cops put us in lockdown last night,” I said. ” “Right, sorry,” I said. ” Cazzie’s eyes had narrowed.
I don’t think cylinders really ache,” I said contritely. ” “I’ll explain later.
You know I hate feeling sorry for myself. You know. But maybe I do a little right now. Because another fall like the last one and not all the deli’s horses or—” I snipped off the end of the sentence, unwilling to finish it. Everyone in my family had called Murray a hopeless dreamer, but I’d always seen him as a bright, free spirit without a grain of pessimism in his bones. Someone not all the world’s weight could crush. It might have disappointed him to hear me say that any fall would stop me from pulling my broken pieces together and climbing back up on my horse.