Beautiful Cape Cod, Massachusetts, is known for seafood, sand, surf, and, now…murder.   Samantha Barnes was always a foodie.  And when the CIA (that’s the Culinary Institute of America) came calling, she happily traded in Cape Cod for the Big Apple.  But then the rising young chef’s clash with another chef (her ex!) boils over and goes viral. So when Sam inherits a house on the Cape and lands a job writing restaurant reviews, it seems like the perfect pairing. What could go wrong? Well, as it turns out, a lot.   The dilapidated house comes with an enormous puppy. Her new boss is, well, bossy.  And the town’s harbor master is none other than her first love.  Nonetheless, Sam’s looking forward to reviewing the Bayview Grill—and indeed the seafood chowder is divine. But the body in the pond outside the eatery was not on the menu. Sam is certain this is murder. But as she begins to stir the pot, is she creating a recipe for her own untimely demise? Praise for A Side of Murder   “This is one of the freshest, funniest murder mysteries I’ve ever read. I fell absolutely in love with Samantha Barnes — the brave, sarcastic,crime-solving, relatable heroine we’ve all been waiting for. A SIDE OF MURDER is a rich, satisfying meal that delights from beginning to end, and Amy Pershing is wonderful and clever author.”—Elizabeth Gilbert, New York Times bestselling author of City of Girls and Eat, Pray, Love   "A delicious mystery lovingly set in Cape Cod featuring a cast of charming characters. Amy Pershing writes with a fresh fun voice that will delight cozy fans. Chef turned restaurant critic, Samantha Barnes, proves a clever sleuth whose helpful cooking tips will be a big hit with culinary readers."—Krista Davis, New York Times bestselling author of The Dog Who Knew Too Much   "An exquisite Cape Cod setting, a shamed but resilient chef, murderous secrets, and a long-buried but still steaming romance...Amy Pershing's debut mystery will leave you longing for a seaside vacation, complete with fried clams and the next book in her charming series."-- Lucy Burdette, national bestselling author of The Key Lime Crime Amy Pershing is a lifelong mystery lover and wordsmith. She was an editor, a restaurant reviewer and a journalist before leading employee communications at a global bank. A few years ago (with the final college tuition bill paid), she waved goodbye to Wall Street to write full time (and spend more time sailing on the Cape!). A Side of Murder, the first of the Cape Cod Foodie mysteries, is her debut novel. One   Okay, so here's how it's gonna go down."   I looked sternly at my dining companions, who were eyeing me warily over the rims of their wineglasses. They were not used to me looking at them sternly.   "We order one meat, one vegetarian, one seafood, and one pasta entrŽe."   "Pasta doesn't count as vegetarian?"   That was Jenny, a mother of three with the body of a sixteen-year-old that she proudly claims is the result of her dedicated meat-and-potatoes-only diet. She was probably worried that I was going to make her order eggplant.   "No. Pasta doesn't count as vegetarian," I explained. "Some restaurants like to think it counts as vegetarian, but that's how vegetarians get fat. That and too much cheese. No, a real vegetarian entrŽe is about vegetables. Maybe with grains or legumes, but the focus is on vegetables, like a ratatouille."   "Sorry I asked," Jenny muttered to Miles, who was sitting next to her and had been quietly entertaining himself by checking out the other patrons at the Bayview Grill. "What's a legume anyway?" she asked him.   Miles looked at her like she'd just arrived from Mars. Miles is a farmer. What he doesn't know about legumes isn't worth knowing. "Beans, lentils, chickpeas-that kind of thing," he said. "How do you not know that?"   Jenny shuddered. "I don't eat 'that kind of thing.'"   I tried to continue with their instructions. "Appetizers can be anything you like-"   "Well, hallelujah," Miles said. He poked Jenny in the side with one massive elbow, almost knocking her off her chair. "I'd like that cutie-pie over there at the bar."   I ignored him.   "Anything you like," I repeated, "but it needs to make sense with your entrŽe."   "I'm lost," said Helene, running a ring-bejeweled hand through her mane of silver curls. Helene was Fair Harbor's new librarian. I'd known her exactly twenty-four hours and couldn't imagine anyone less like a librarian.   "I've been eating out for forty years," she said, "and I never once worried if my appetizer made sense with my entrŽe. I don't even know what that means."   I sighed. Well, no one had ever said writing restaurant reviews for the Cape Cod Clarion was going to be easy. Actually, I reflected, that wasn't true. I was the one who had said it would be easy.   I tried to clarify. "It means that if you're having the hanger steak for your entrŽe-"   "That's mine!" Jenny said, suddenly all in. "I call I claim the hanger steak.