By Rebecca Connolly, Author of The Crime Brûlée Bake-Off

I love the Great British Bakeoff. LOVE IT. It is the best sort of therapy and ASMR that I have ever known.

Do I bake? Nope. Can I? Sure, to a point.

Do I have ambitions to become a skilled baker? Nah, bro.

So why in the world do I love this show?

IT IS MAGICAL.

IT IS ADDICTING.

IT IS probably the most wholesome thing you can watch outside of bluey, to be perfectly honest, and that’s just delightful.

It is also BRITISH, which, as we all know, is my Achilles heel.

And that is how I got started on writing the Crime Brulee Bake Off.

Because who doesn’t want to throw romance into a baking competition?

Picture this: a handful of British amateur bakers, each eager for the chance to win the competition and go down in history as the greatest, a theme of historical bakes for THE ENTIRE RUN OF SHOW, the competition itself taking place on a gorgeous historic estate with matching historic kitchens, and… the handsome, brooding viscount who is super grumpy about PEOPLE infiltrating every aspect of his home and his life.

Voila! We have my foundation.

Thanks, Paul Hollywood, for giving me this viewpoint.

But then… 

They asked me to drop a dead body in my gorgeous baking rom-com inspired by GBBO.

Excuse me, who is plotting with my patisserie in this way???

But you know what?

IT. WORKS.

Murder during a baking competition reality show? GOLD. Haven’t you wanted to know what actually goes on behind the scenes on that show? I HAVE.

Conspiracies? We know they’re there. Favorites? Oh yeah, totally. Sabotage? You know it.

So being able to play with that world and those ideas? Yes, please, and thank you very much.

You know what I got to do for this project? WATCH HOURS ON HOURS OF THE GREAT BRITISH BAKEOFF.

For research purposes, naturally.

And it counted as work! BONUS!

It was even more fun to watch when I needed to see how they made things, the processes and techniques, and etc. Learning little quirks that make a bake take off and fantastic. Finding ideas for the bakes themselves. Things that baking judges would say. It was FABULOUS. And ridiculously useful, too. I made notes on bakes I liked and which episode it was on. I paused and skipped back and rewatched and repeated over and over again. So good. So, so good.

I am even more in love with GBBO after writing this book. I went to the GBBO musical on the West End in London. I ordered GBBO cookbooks, despite the lack of baking skills involved in my repertoire. I understood the stress and strain the bakers on the show are under and could sympathize more when things didn’t work out the way they had wanted. I know what it took for them to even get on the show, given the strenuous application process. 

Without GBBO and its gloriousness, there would be no Crime Brulee Bake Off. There would be no dead body dropping in the middle of a baking show, which is probably a more sanitary option, but hardly as page turning. There would be no amateur baking contestant who rambles and swears in baking terms who catches the eye of a brooding, people-averse viscount.

And this entire new world for me and my imagination would be lost.

Also I would have a clue what a tarte tatin is, what you do with mille feuille, or why a soggy bottom is a dreadful thing. 

I mean, we can imagine why, but still.

The Great British Bakeoff (or Baking Show, here in the states) has no idea that I’ve done this project, and nor will they care. But man, do I owe them a lot.

And now if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to look into the perfect recipe for a cheesecake.

For research.

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NEW! The Crime Brulee Bake Off: The Great British Baking Show meets a cozy mystery with a contemporary romance and a Regency-era twist