Cozy Christmas Crimes - A Cozy Christmas Box Set
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Cozy Christmas Crimes
A Cozy Christmas Box Set
Short Stories By:
Jenna St. James
Mona Marple
Tonya Kappes
Bonus Book By
Summer Prescott
Christmas Parties are Murder
By Jenna St. James
Temp worker Amanda Adkins had no idea when she offered to bake her boss a diet cake for the office Christmas party, that someone would use her generosity to commit cold-blooded murder. But that’s exactly what happened.
When the detective in charge looks to pin the murder on Amanda, she has no choice but to enlist the help of her 75-year-old grandmother—an Army Veteran Nurse and “hidden-weapons” specialist.
Together the two ladies set out to prove Amanda’s innocence. When handsome IT expert Blake Wellington offers his help, Amanda is instantly cautious…especially when some of the clues point to Blake being the killer.
Can Amanda and her grandmother track down the killer before Detective Carlson makes good on his promise to arrest Amanda?
Or worse, instead of Christmas being the most wonderful time of the year for Amanda, will it end up being the most deadliest time of the year?
Who knew office Christmas parties could be so dangerous?
THE CANDY CANE KILLER
by Mona Marple
It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas.
A generic, commercial Christmas that not everyone is happy about. Town mayor Sharon Major is pushing ahead with plans to modernize the town, and stripping it of its character in the process.
Teenagers Sandy and Coral are finally allowed to attend the Christmas Lights Switch On without their father accompanying them. Their excitement about this independence soon changes, when the stage curtains open and reveal the mayor’s dead body.
With no police on the scene, the crowd of people are all held in the shopping centre. With the killer amongst them, Sandy and Coral decide to investigate.
After all, who would suspect two teenage girls of being able to solve a murder case?
A Charming Blend
By Tonya Kappes
When Roxy Bloom and Patrick Cane got a gift card at the Full Moon Treesort in Whispering Falls, Kentucky, they figured it’d be a fantastic honeymoon.
When June Heal heard from the Whispering Falls Newspaper report from editor Faith Mortimer that there was a nosy coffee barista coming to town and she needed an eye kept on her, June was quick to put Mr. Prince Charming on the tourist, Roxanne Bloom.
When a dead body is discovered during the annual Whispering Fall tree lightening, Roxy Bloom just can’t seem to keep her nose out of it, even though she feels like something strange is going on in the cozy town.
June Heal is using powers, she never thought she’d use, to keep tourist Roxy Bloom away from the crime scene.
Will the two feisty sleuths come together to solve this murder before Roxy’s honeymoon is over or before June Heal uses all of her powers to keep Roxy away from their secrets of Whispering Falls?
You won’t want to miss this crossover tale of two of your favorite cozy mystery sleuths, June Heal from the Magical Cures Mystery Series and Roxanne Bloom from the Killer Coffee Series.
A Lime To Kill
By Summer Prescott
A single mom.
A misplaced millennial.
The best pies and baked goods in the Keys.
Life is good for SubLime Sweets owner, Marilyn Hayes. That is, until murder shows up on her doorstep. Marilyn's world is rocked, as she discovers that, things are not always as they seem, she didn't know her daughter as well as she thought she did, and some old wounds never quite heal.
Will the hunky Detective Cortland save the day? Or will Miss Marilyn be the next victim?
CONTENTS
Christmas Parties are Murder
THE CANDY CANE KILLER
A Charming Blend
Bonus Book
A Lime To Kill
Christmas Parties are Murder
Jenna St. James
Christmas Parties are Murder
Temp worker Amanda Adkins had no idea when she offered to bake her boss a diet cake for the office Christmas party, that someone would use her generosity to commit cold-blooded murder. But that’s exactly what happened.
When the detective in charge looks to pin the murder on Amanda, she has no choice but to enlist the help of her 75-year-old grandmother—an Army Veteran Nurse and “hidden-weapons” specialist.
Together the two ladies set out to prove Amanda’s innocence. When handsome IT expert Blake Wellington offers his help, Amanda is instantly cautious…especially when some of the clues point to Blake being the killer.
Can Amanda and her grandmother track down the killer before Detective Carlson makes good on his promise to arrest Amanda?
Or worse, instead of Christmas being the most wonderful time of the year for Amanda, will it end up being the most deadliest time of the year?
Who knew office Christmas parties could be so dangerous?
Contents for Christmas Parties are Murder
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
About the Author
Copyright
Dedication
To Stephanie Davis Ah Yat…it’s because of you that I decided to go this route. Blessings to you and your family.
Chapter 1
“We’re gonna tear this place up tonight!” my seventy-five-year-old Nan cried as she tugged down the hem of her black mini dress.
I barely suppressed a groan at her words as we hurried into the foyer of the three-story office building where I worked as a temp. Technically my last day had been yesterday, but I was still invited to the office Christmas party.
“Simmer down there, Nan,” I joked. “Let’s not get too crazy.”
Melanie “Mel” Adkins is not only my Nan, but she’s also my best friend. My mom died in childbirth, so I never really knew her. My dad would show me pictures and movies they took right up until the time of her death. So I feel I know her in some ways…but I never had a chance to physically meet her. My dad raised me the best he could. When he died young from a brain tumor around my twelfth birthday, I went to live with my Nan. She’s been my rock and my best friend ever since.
Don’t get me wrong, it’s not always been sunshine and roses. Nan is sometimes a hard woman to live with, and she had a hand of steel when she needed it…but once I reached adulthood, she just slipped into being my best friend and roommate. Now at twenty-six, I’ve come to appreciate all she’s done for me.
Immediately after nursing school, my Nan volunteered to serve in the Army Nurse Corps during the Vietnam War. When her time was up—including a one-year tour in Vietnam—she came back stateside, married my Papa, and then immediately had my dad. A few years later, Nan went back to college and was one of only a handful of people in the United States at that time to become a nurse practitioner. According to Nan, a nurse practitioner in the late seventies was virtually unheard of.
My Papa also died before I was born, and my Nan never remarried. She claimed no one would ever capture her heart like Papa. Of course, that doesn’t keep her from dating at least once or twice a week. For a woman who has lost both her one true love and her only child, she has
a very positive outlook on life. I love that about my Nan.
I waved to the elderly security guard, Bernie, behind the huge counter and veered off toward the elevators. For the last two weeks I’d worked as the administrative assistant to Margaret Eldemire—a high-powered ad executive at the Staley & Thomas firm in Piper Springs, Kansas. Margaret’s regular assistant had gotten married and was on a two-week honeymoon cruise.
Nan shook her head. “How is it you turned out so straight laced, Amanda?”
It’s not the first time we’ve asked each other that question. Nan and I are total opposites. I’m medium height and build, shoulder length reddish-auburn hair, hazel eyes, and according to Nan, I’m a goody-goody. I currently work temp jobs until I can support myself as a full-time pastry chef. My Nan is just over five feet, athletic, has a nearly wrinkle-free complexion, and she has the most beautiful electric blue eyes. Those eyes currently matched her hair. That’s right, my seventy-five-year-old Nan sports short, spiky black hair with electric blue tips. She’s well educated and has a fabulous sense of humor. Her other perk…she carries and conceals at least five different weapons on her body at all times.
I shifted the miniature cake in my hand and pushed the up arrow on the elevator wall. I’d baked the sugar-free, low-carb cake tonight for Margaret Eldemire. Last week she confided in me that she’d recently lost forty-five pounds and wanted to keep it off, but the holidays proved to be more difficult than she thought. She was a stress eater, and under more stress than normal…not from the holidays per say, but from her job.
According to Margaret, Staley & Thomas would announce the new vice-president of advertising and marketing at the Christmas party. She’d sworn me to secrecy before confiding that the three candidates up for the job had already been told, and she’d gotten the promotion. Margaret needed a way to celebrate with her friends without inhaling too many calories. When I offered to make a mini sugar-free, low-carb cake for her, Margaret jumped at the chance. She’d scribbled my name down on the sign-up sheet in the break room, bragging to everyone I would bake a diet cake just for her.
“One more quick look.” Nan fluffed up her hair and checked out her appearance in the mirrored walls as we waited for the elevator. Her three-inch black and gold strappy high heels paired nicely with the knee-length, skin-tight black dress that hugged her curves perfectly. She looked both wild and sophisticated. Not at all like you might think a seventy-five-year-old grandma should look.
I surreptitiously took in my four-seasons-ago long black dress and tried not to cringe. Usually this was my designated funeral dress, but tonight it had to double as my semi-formal attire. Mainly because I couldn’t afford to go out and buy a new dress. Nan had offered to buy me a new outfit, but I refuse to let her spend money on me. And every additional penny I make goes into my savings for my future bakery.
The elevator doors slid open and we entered the miniscule death trap. As the coffin doors closed, I had Nan push the button for the second floor. I pretended I wasn’t unnerved and hummed along softly to the Christmas music in the elevator and prayed once more I’d have a good time tonight. Letting my hair down was not something I did easily.
“Take a few deep breaths,” Nan said. “You’ll be fine. Drink a little…but not too much. You don’t want to be a meme on social media tomorrow.”
I rolled my eyes and chuckled. “I think that advice is more for you than me.”
“You’re right. I’ll try and remember I’m your plus one tonight and not embarrass you.”
“Technically,” I said, “my last day was yesterday. So you’re fine.”
Nan winked at me. “Good to know.”
The elevator doors slid open, and my senses were immediately assaulted. About fifty people were crammed in the front office area, drinking and laughing. Most sported Santa hats and blinking jewelry. Snowflakes, Christmas ornaments, and candy canes hung from ceiling tiles, and the smell of cinnamon and pine permeated the air.
I was about to take a step backward into the elevator and flee back to our condo when Nan grabbed hold of my elbow and gave me a reassuring smile. “We’re here to have a good time, Amanda.”
“You’re right.”
Nan laughed and shook her head. “Let’s go find you a drink to help you relax.”
“First let’s put the cake in the workroom. Then we can find a drink and relax.”
“And hit on cute guys,” Nan added.
I snorted. “I didn’t see many of those around in my two weeks here. Especially in your age group. But I have no doubt if there’s a cute guy running around, you’ll find him.”
Nan grinned, wrapped her arms through mine, and together we ambled over to the workroom. I kept my eyes open, hoping to catch sight of Margaret so I could find out where exactly she wanted me to put her candy cane cake.
Yesterday afternoon I received an email from Margaret as I was leaving work. She asked if I could make her diet cake with mounds of white and pink diet buttercream frosting. So last night I went online and found a recipe for diet frosting. In the end, I was impressed with the consistency of the frosting. To make the cake more Christmas-y, I went ahead and crushed up candy canes to sprinkle on top of the pink and white frosting, then added pink sugar crystals for effect.
Nan and I entered the crowded workroom, and I gasped at the lovely sight before me. The tables all had red tablecloths draped over them, and the matching candy cane plates, cups, and napkins paired well with the candy cane centerpieces. Intrigued, I picked up one of the centerpieces and examined it. Someone had taken four candy canes and flipped them upside down so the loops rested evenly on the table. From there they glued the four canes to a skinny, red candle, and then tied mistletoe around the candle.
I set the candy cane centerpiece back down on the table and looked around for Margaret. I caught her eye across the room. She waved and excused herself from the group and hurried over to where Nan and I grazed from a food table. When Margaret saw the little cake I carried, her mouth dropped open and tears filled her eyes.
“Oh, it’s precious!” Margaret cried. “I almost don’t want to eat it.”
I laughed. “Where do you want me to set it?”
Margaret bent down and scooted a couple desserts closer together and made a spot for her cake. Grinning, she pulled a tiny piece of paper out of her dress pocket. Scrawled in fancy pink letters was her name. She set the place card in front of the mini cake and clapped her hands.
“No one should bother it,” Margaret said. “Pretty much everyone knows I’ve lost this weight. Not like you can hide forty-five pounds.”
“But good for you for planning ahead,” Nan said.
“I love how you went with a pink and white theme,” Margaret said. “Matches the décor.”
“Just like you requested,” I said.
Margaret frowned. “I did?”
I laughed at her forgetfulness. “Yes. In your email to me yesterday?”
“I guess I forgot.” Margaret shrugged. “I’ve been so busy lately I can hardly remember my own name. Now let’s get out of here before I inhale this table.”
We all headed back out toward the main party area.
“What time is the announcement for the promotion?” I asked Margaret.
“Around eight o’clock,” Margaret said. “At least that’s what the email from Patrick Staley said.”
I glanced at the clock on the wall. There was still about thirty minutes before the final decision would be announced.
Margaret groaned. “Looks like Marc is waving me over. I better go see what he wants.”
Marc Mallard paced back and forth in front of Margaret’s office. His face was a scary shade of red, and his blonde hair was tousled and stuck up in spikes. His blue suit was disheveled and wrinkled, and his tie was undone and flopped loosely around his neck. Marc had also been a contender for the vice-presidency job according to Margaret.
“Wonder what that’s all about,” Nan murmured.
I shrugged. “N
ot a fan of Marc Mallard, so I really don’t care.”
Nan laughed and snagged two flutes of champagne from a tray on a nearby table. “Let’s go mingle. I see some eye candy over by the copy machine.”
I accepted the glass and swiveled to see who it was she meant. I wasn’t kidding when I said I hadn’t seen anyone worthwhile in the two weeks I worked here.
I sucked in my breath. “Wow. I don’t remember seeing him around.”
“Let’s go,” Nan said as she grabbed my elbow and dragged me behind her.
Standing nearly a foot taller than anyone around him, a handsome man with piercing brown eyes, long wavy brown hair, close-cropped beard, and a square, chiseled jaw stood lazily sipping from a glass beer bottle. I guessed him to be in his early thirties. I snorted at his choice of clothing…short-sleeved T-shirt sporting a kitsch picture of cats and dogs in Santa hats. His dark, fitted jeans were stylish and expensive. He also touted a lot of solid muscle. He reminded me of that hottie Jason Momoa. When his eyes fell on Nan and me, he lifted one corner of his mouth along with his beer.
“Hi there,” Nan said as she wiggled her way in between three other people standing by the handsome guy. “Nice party.”
He gave my Nan a wolfish grin as he took her all in. “It is now.”
I gulped down my glass of champagne and pretended not to notice his sleeve of tattoos. He had danger written all over him…from his piercing eyes, to his muscled body, to his bad-boy tattoos. This was exactly the kind of guy Nan liked. If only he wasn’t forty years younger.