She craved a tall glass of the fresh-squeezed lemonade from the pitcher she’d left chilling in the fridge. Two glasses served with a generous slice of pound cake with orange glaze icing sounded twice as nice.

Nozy Cat lifted one sleepy eyelid, and his marble blue eye glared at her for interrupting his sacred nap. He wore a yellow collar with little red stars printed on it. His second eyelid also opened, and he gave them his irritated blue-eyed glare.

Quote is taken from Chapter 1:A decade ago when Isabel’s husband Max had died, they’d moved in together and merged their possessions. Neither sister brought any fussy teapots, canaries, sachets, or doilies, but lots of other stuff had to either stay or go. Looking at the lime green gave Alma the willies. Her suggestion to slipcover it in a more subdued color had garnered Isabel’s frosty stare, and Alma had dropped the matter.

You’re a nosy sleuth like me because you can’t help it,” Alma said.

Megan stepping back let her glance switch from Alma to Isabel and return to Alma. No doubt about it, thought Megan. Created as much alike as any sisters ever had been, their resemblance started with their matching red-and-white polka dot blouses. Since she was a young girl, she had matched their eye colors to their different personalities.

The busy snoops like us can leave no stone unturned," Alma said.

Petey Samson gave the ladies an over-the-shoulder glance. He realized no doggie treat was forthcoming, even from Isabel who was usually the soft mark to hit up. He scratched his front claws to re-attack the sand.

i want to stay curled and cosiedand chocolated....foreverin my mother’s arms.

There’s nothing as cozy as a piece of candy and a book.

Soup is cozy.

A single poemis worth a hundredcozy winter nightskind wordsand healed wounds.

Sheriff Fox was running his fingers through his thin hair. In a few short years, he’d look bald as a peeled apple. The Snoop sisters and their sidekick, the town’s bag lady no less, had traipsed into his office without knocking first. His admin (he couldn’t remember their names to save his life) had ushered them in, and they’d just dumped this hot potato into his lap.

I have lived one step away from losing my mind for years. I am quick and accurate in spotting unstable streaks in others.

The good characters in my book are loosely based on folks I know. All the bad stuff is made up.

She’d have to treat the interview more like risotto than instant rice, adding ingredients gradually while stirring gently.

Oh please tell me we're not doing the Poirot thing again — the suspects in the library with the candlestick or whatever'.Max looked at him [DCI Cotton]. 'Fruitcake in this case. And what would you prefer? A car chase? It’s the most efficient way to flush out a killer, as Dame Agatha Christie well knew.

Mom, you know what? I just realized you have a knack for making people disappear. [Lella's son catches on!]

Lella York, the self-proclaimed queen of passive-aggressive behavior. [Lella's perceptive view of herself]

Don’t you believe any man who makes you feel like you were just a one-time thing.” His arms tighten around me and his words tickle my ear, “You could never be any man’s forgettable moment.” He holds me away from him and I feel ridiculously like I could melt in the dark pools of his eyes. “You are a force to be remembered, Dacie Mae.

And you were always nothing but slime, Henry Wallace. Fancy trash

I spent most summers in Italy as a child either in Tuscany or at the Amalfi coast.

Just because the restaurant had Dynamite Shrimp on the menu, was that any reason for the place to blow up? (re April 15 release, Killer Kitchens

Father and Ivy used to go off on their excursions, never knowing that I was relieved when they were gone. That I'd wear my nightgowns all day and read from dawn till dusk.

Alma didn’t want Isabel to start singing the praises of their pet, a rescue beagle, or she wouldn’t shush until sundown. “I’ve found the missing lady,” Alma said. “Say welcome home, Betsy Sweet.

You know, when the list of people who have a really good reason to want you dead covers more than two sheets of paper, you might want to start rethinking your life choices.

Quote taken from Chapter 1:I know what." Isabel reached under the end table, took out the game board, and rattled the Band-Aid box containing the letter tiles. "It's been a week-and-a-half since our last Scrabble game.

If you’ve got a cozy mystery, and a dog is introduced, readers’ first question is, ‘Does the dog die?’ They never ask about a cat. They know that the first rule of cozies is: The Cat Never Dies.” – K.B. Inglee, mystery writer

Having her favorite breakfast always made her feel cozy, like a warm blanket was being wrapped around her.

Rain is sexy. I like rain. But the car will be cozy. I like cozy things more. And I like the things that make me cozy.

Its front porch had a beautiful view of the water and invisible screening to keep the jellybugs and stinkmoths at bay. I wove mats for the floors and painted sincere, klutzy seascapes for the walls. Piece by piece I assembled chef-quality cooking equipment, learned how to use it, and achieved a state of domestic competence that would have astounded my long-suffering ex-wife, Joanna.

...the book had been written with winter nights in mind. Without a doubt, it was a book for when the birds had flown south, the wood was stacked by the fireplace, and the fields were white with snow; that is, for when one had no desire to venture out and one's friends had no desire to venture in.

At this season of the year, darkness is a more insistent thing than cold. The days are short as any dream.

All day the storm lasted. The windows were white and the wind never stopped howling and screaming. It was pleasant in the warm house. Laura and Mary did their lessons, then Pa played the fiddle while Ma rocked and knitted, and bean soup simmered on the stove. All night the storm lasted, and all the next day. Fire-light danced out of the stove's draught, and Pa told stories and played the fiddle.