Antiques Fruitcake by Barbara Allan Page A

antiques collecting will keep readers engaged.”
    â€” Library Journal
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    â€œTop pick! This snappy mystery has thrills, laugh-out-loud moments and amazingly real relationships.”
    â€” Romantic Times BOOKreviews
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    â€œThis is surely one of the funniest cozy series going.”
    â€” Ellery Queen Mystery Magazine
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    â€œMarvelous dialogue, great characters, and a fine murder mystery.... I couldn’t put [it] down.”
    â€” Reviewing the Evidence
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    Antiques Maul
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    â€œCharming . . . laugh-out-loud funny.”
    â€” Romantic Times
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    â€œThe writers do a great job in developing the characters.”
    â€” Reviewing the Evidence
    Â 
    Antiques Roadkill
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    â€œEngaging and utterly believable.”
    â€”Sara Paretsky
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    â€œA terrific new series. Grab it up!”
    â€” S.J. Rozan
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    â€œ[Readers] will love this down-to-earth heroine with the wry sense of humor and a big heart.”
    â€” Nancy Pickard
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    â€œFun from start to finish.”
    â€” Laurien Berenson
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    â€œFunny, witty, irreverent . . . the distinctive voice pulls you in and never lets you go.”
    â€” T.J. MacGregor
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    â€œHilarious.”
    â€” Joan Hess

Also by Barbara Allan :
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    ANTIQUES ROADKILL
ANTIQUES MAUL
ANTIQUES FLEE MARKET
ANTIQUES BIZARRE
ANTIQUES KNOCK-OFF
ANTIQUES DISPOSAL
ANTIQUES CHOP
ANTIQUES SLAY RIDE (e-novella)
ANTIQUES CON
ANTIQUES FRUITCAKE (e-novella)
ANTIQUES SWAP
    Â 
    By Barbara Collins:
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    TOO MANYTOMCATS
    (short story collection)
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    By Barbara and Max Allan Collins:
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    REGENERATION
BOMBSHELL
MURDER—HIS AND HERS
(short story collection)

Antiques Fruitcake
A Trash ‘n’ Treasures Mystery
Barbara Allan

    KENSINGTON BOOKS
    http://www.kensingtonbooks.com

    All copyrighted material within is Attributor Protected.

Brandy’s quote:
    Â 
    Revenge is a dish best served before it goes off.
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    â€”Brandy Borne
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    Â 
    Mother’s quote:
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    If you prick us, do we not bleed? . . .
If you poison us, do we not die?
    Â 
    â€” The Merchant of Venice
    Act Three, Scene One



Act One
Have Yourself a Merry Little Fruitcake
    Christmas had come to Serenity, Iowa, the downtown windows decorated, lampposts wrapped in evergreen, shoppers laden with packages, snow dusting the sidewalks. Everyone in the land, or at least our little river town, was having a holly jolly holiday season . . . except me. Brandy Borne.
    I was miserable.
    Why? Because Mother had roped me into helping her with the annual Christmas play at the Playhouse.
    ( Mother to Brandy : Dear, your opening is a little cheerless for a Christmas story, don’t you think?)
    ( Brandy to Mother : It’s a Christmas story with a murder in it. What do you expect?)
    ( Mother to Brandy : What I expect isn’t the issue. And, yes, the readers expect some mischief and mayhem. But what they don’t expect is you throwing yourself a pity-party instead of a Christmas one. Are you current on your Prozac, dear?)
    ( Brandy to Mother : Are you current on your lithium?)
    ( Editor to Vivian and Brandy : Ladies, are we going to have an issue again with these asides?)
    ( Brandy to Editor : She started it.)
    (Vivian to Editor: I think the asides add flavor! And character!)
    ( Editor to Vivian and Brandy : I think it’s annoying. And any further extracurricular squabbling between you two will be deleted from the text. But I must agree with Vivian. Brandy, please rewrite the opening.)
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    Christmas had come to quaint Serenity, nestled along and above the banks of the mighty Mississippi like the star atop a tannenbaum. Ye olde Victorian shop windows were festively decorated, lampposts wrapped in evergreen, twinkling lights strung hither and yon, cheerful shoppers laden with colorful packages frolicking down snow-dusted sidewalks . . . and me?
    Why, I was as rosy-cheeked as Old Saint Nick, feeling positively joyous. After all,