The holidays are the icing on the cake for bakery owner Hannah Swensen. Surrounded by her loved ones, she has all the ingredients for a perfect Christmas--until murder is added to the mix.  .  . When it comes to holidays, Minnesotans rise to the occasion--and the little town of Lake Eden is baking up a storm with Hannah leading the way. The annual Christmas Buffet is the final test of the recipes Hannah has collected for the Lake Eden Holiday Buffet Cookbook. The recently divorced Martin Dubinski arrives at the buffet with his new Vegas showgirl wife--all wrapped up in glitter and fur. His ex-wife, however, seems as cool as chilled eggnog. And when Hannah's mother's antique Christmas cake knife disappears, its discovery in the décolletage of the new--and now late--Mrs. Dubinski puts the festivities on ice. With everyone stranded at the community center by a blizzard, Hannah puts her investigative skills to the test, using the ingredients at hand: half the town of Lake Eden--and a killer. Now, as the snowdrifts get higher, it's up to Hannah to dig out all the clues--and make sure that this white Christmas doesn't bring any more deadly tidings.  .  . "Wacky and delightful characters, plus tempting recipes from appetizers to desserts, make this lighthearted offering sure to please the palate of any cozy fan." -- Publishers Weekly "Fluke's talent for spinning a mesmerizing tale carries on in this sixth book, and its holiday recipes are an added treat for readers." -- Times News Record "A clever and delicious treat for Christmas."-- Mystery Lovers Bookshop News Includes over fifty original recipes for you to try! "A wonderful mystery...This book is as warm and cozy as a dozen Cinnamon Crisps! This series may remind some of another well-known series that includes recipes, but it is better!" JOANNE FLUKE is the New York Times bestselling author of the Hannah Swensen mysteries, which include Double Fudge Brownie Murder, Blackberry Pie Murder , Cinnamon Roll Murder , and the book that started it all, Chocolate Chip Cookie Murder. That first installment in the series premiered as Murder, She Baked:  A Chocolate Chip Cookie Mystery on the Hallmark Movies & Mysteries Channel. Like Hannah Swensen, Joanne Fluke was born and raised in a small town in rural Minnesota, but now lives in Southern California. Please visit her online at www.JoanneFluke.com Sugar Cookie Murder A Hannah Swensen Holiday Mystery With Recipes By JOANNE FLUKE KENSINGTON PUBLISHING CORP. Copyright © 2004 Joanne Fluke All rights reserved. ISBN: 978-0-7582-8836-3 CHAPTER 1 It was a meatball, a really big meatball, and it was rolling out of her closet. It stopped a few feet from the end of the bed, and that was when she noticed its eyes and its face. The eyes stared at her in abject disappointment, and two tears of gravy rolled down its fat bumpy cheeks. It looked so miserable Hannah wanted to reach out and give it a hug. "You forgot me," the meatball said, "and I'm an entrée. And from what I hear, your entrées aren't that good." "Yes, they are. We've got ..." "I'm doing my best not to take this as a personal insult," the meatball interrupted her, "but you know I'm a lot more delicious than your mother's Hawaiian Pot Roast. What really makes me mad is that you left me out, but you put in four of your sister Andrea's Jell-O molds. Well, it doesn't take a rocket scientist to dump a can of fruit in some Jell-O. If you want her name in the cookbook, you ought to teach her to cook." What was the meatball talking about? No ordinary mortal could teach Andrea to cook! Her sister was firmly entrenched among the ranks of the culinary-impaired. Hannah sat bolt upright in bed, prepared to give the Swedish treat a piece of her mind. But there was no longer a round, brown entrée with the delectable scent of mushrooms and beef positioned in front of her closet or at the foot of her bed. With the exception of Moishe, who was curled up at her feet sleeping peacefully, she was alone. Hannah blinked several times, and then the truth of the situation dawned. She'd been dreaming. The talking meatball had retreated into whatever corner of her mind had created it, but the message it had delivered remained. Hannah had goofed big time. She'd forgotten to include Edna Ferguson's recipe for Not So Swedish Meatballs in the packet to be tested at tonight's potluck dinner. "Uh-oh," Hannah groaned, feeling around under the bed for her slippers. When she'd wiggled her feet inside the fake fur lining, she patted the mattress to wake the orange and white tomcat who'd been her roommate for the past year and a half. "Come on, Moishe. Time to wake up and smell the kitty crunchies." Moishe opened one yellow eye and regarded her balefully. Then the phrase "kitty crunchies" must have registered in his feline brain, because he jumped off the bed with an athletic grace that Hannah could only envy, and padded down the hallway at her side as she headed for the kitchen. Onc