Amanda Flower's Blog, page 5

Easter is just around the corner, it’s time to think about what you will be eating, right? I’m a vegetarian and do most of the cooking at home, so at our house, we skip the lamb and ham and usually go Italian with my vegetarian lasagna. It’s so good, and it’s the recipe that my husband asks for most often for special occasions from Christmas, Valentine’s Day, and yep Easter too. Enjoy!

Ingredients9 oz oven ready lasagna noodles10 oz. chopped frozen spinach1/2 onion choppedtwo tablespoons of minced garlicone red bell pepper chopped2 cups sliced mushrooms15 oz. low fat ricotta2 eggsmozzarella cheese shredded1 cup Parmesan cheese grated1 jar marinara sauceoreganobasilrosemarythymesalt and pepper to tasteInstructionsPreheat oven to 375.Thaw the spinach and squeeze out the water.Microwave onions, peppers, and mushrooms for one minute thirty seconds to remove extra moisture.In a medium-sized bowl, mix together eggs, ricotta cheese, spinach, red pepper, mushroom, onion, garlic, herbs, salt, and pepper.In a 9×11 pan, layer noodles, sauce , ricotta mixture, mushrooms, mozzarella cheese, and Parmesan cheese. Repeat layers three times.Bake at 375 for 20 minutes covered loosely with foil. Remove foil and bake for another 25-30 minutes or until golden brown.Allow to cool for 5-10 minutes before cutting and serving.

FEATURED BOOK OF THE WEEK

There’s fowl play afoot on the farm

Shiloh Bellamy has saved her family’s farm from financial ruin—but now what? She’s barely scraping by on the farm’s new organic business model and the fall festival she organized to drum up business comes to a screeching halt when the body of a prominent townswoman is discovered underneath a scarecrow in a nearby field. Worst of all, the evidence points to Shiloh’s childhood best friend, Kristy, as the prime suspect.

Between cooking up delicious treats made with her farm’s produce, convincing her cantankerous father to let her do things her own way, and dealing with a newcomer in town who could be serious competition for her customers, Shiloh doesn’t have time to wade into a murder investigation. But with a killer on the loose and suspicious activity circling closer and closer to Shiloh and the people she loves, she realizes there’s nothing to do but roll up her sleeves and get down to the dirty work of finding the killer and clearing Kristy’s name once and for all.

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Happy reading!

Amanda

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In the last several months, I have shared a slew of new book covers for my upcoming releases. In case you missed them, here they are! What do you think?

Hotel California– May 2022 (Anthology. I have a short story in the collection.)

Peanut Butter Panic– August 2022

Because I Could Not Stop for Death– September 2022

Frozen Detective– December 2022

Honeymoons Can Be Hazardous – January 2023

FEATURED BOOK OF THE WEEK

There’s fowl play afoot on the farm

Shiloh Bellamy has saved her family’s farm from financial ruin—but now what? She’s barely scraping by on the farm’s new organic business model and the fall festival she organized to drum up business comes to a screeching halt when the body of a prominent townswoman is discovered underneath a scarecrow in a nearby field. Worst of all, the evidence points to Shiloh’s childhood best friend, Kristy, as the prime suspect.

Between cooking up delicious treats made with her farm’s produce, convincing her cantankerous father to let her do things her own way, and dealing with a newcomer in town who could be serious competition for her customers, Shiloh doesn’t have time to wade into a murder investigation. But with a killer on the loose and suspicious activity circling closer and closer to Shiloh and the people she loves, she realizes there’s nothing to do but roll up her sleeves and get down to the dirty work of finding the killer and clearing Kristy’s name once and for all.

Amazon Barnes and Noble

Happy reading!

Amanda

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Spring is a time of rebirth and renewal—a great time to discover some new-to-you writers! In the spirit of the season, I’ve teamed up with a delightful group of mystery writers to offer the March of the Mysteries Giveaway! Enter at https://bit.ly/marchofthemysteries TODAY for a chance to win 11 captivating reads!

PRIZE PACKAGE INCLUDES:

Little Black Book by Kate Carlisle

A Curious Incident by Vicki Delany

Matchmaking Can Be Murder by Amanda Flower

Merit Badge Murder by Leslie Langtry

Murder Is a Must by Marty Wingate

Wild Irish Rose by Rhys Bowen

The Glass Thief by Gigi Pandian

Ghostly Paws by Leighann Dobbs

Murder at Honeychurch Hall by Hannah Dennison

Bake, Borrow and Steal by Ellie Alexander

Murder in an Irish Bookshop by Carlene O’Connor

ENTER NOW at https://bit.ly/marchofthemysteries!

FEATURED BOOK OF THE WEEK

There’s fowl play afoot on the farm

Shiloh Bellamy has saved her family’s farm from financial ruin—but now what? She’s barely scraping by on the farm’s new organic business model and the fall festival she organized to drum up business comes to a screeching halt when the body of a prominent townswoman is discovered underneath a scarecrow in a nearby field. Worst of all, the evidence points to Shiloh’s childhood best friend, Kristy, as the prime suspect.

Between cooking up delicious treats made with her farm’s produce, convincing her cantankerous father to let her do things her own way, and dealing with a newcomer in town who could be serious competition for her customers, Shiloh doesn’t have time to wade into a murder investigation. But with a killer on the loose and suspicious activity circling closer and closer to Shiloh and the people she loves, she realizes there’s nothing to do but roll up her sleeves and get down to the dirty work of finding the killer and clearing Kristy’s name once and for all.

Amazon Barnes and Noble

Happy reading!

Amanda

Join my email list

By clicking submit, you agree to share your email address with the site owner and Mailchimp to receive marketing, updates, and other emails from the site owner. Use the unsubscribe link in those emails to opt out at any time.

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I’m so happy that the second Farm to Table Mystery, Put Out To Pasture, is out in the world. This series is so much fun to write, and so many of aspects of farming in the book, I’ve learned through our farm. Enjoy this sneak peek of the novel!

Chapter One

It was a crisp mid-October afternoon. The weather was perfect for sweaters, light scarves, and riding boots. The air smelled of apple cider, hay, and pumpkin spice. It was my favorite time of year. Autumn in Michigan was something I had missed the fifteen years I lived in California. Despite the beautiful day, a knot was pulled as tight in my stomach as the ropes that tethered the boats to the dock on Lake Michigan.

Cars, minivans, and pickup trucks lined the half mile-long driveway as they waited to park in the open pasture next to my barn. When I came up with the idea of Fall Daze, I never for a moment thought I would have this level of response. It was over­whelming, and worse, I was underprepared.

            I wasn’t the reason all these people were here either. I had done my part by putting flyers up around town about the event, made an event post on social media, and bought a tiny ad in the local paper. However, my best guess was seventy percent of the hundred-some vehicles in my pasture were there because of my best friend, Kristy Brown. When Kristy endorsed something in Cherry Glen, people listened and lent their support.

            Kristy managed the Cherry Glen Farmers Market. It was one of the most popular farmers markets in the region outside of Traverse City. She scored a spot on the local television station to plug the market, which she did, but she also spoke about Fall Daze at Bellamy Farm, calling it the best fall festival of the season. By the looks of it, people listened, and now I had to live up to her claim. That was a tall order. Fall in Michigan was serious business. It seemed that every town, city, and farm had a festival, and every weekend until the first snow was packed with autumnal activities. If everything went well, I had a real chance to save my family farm. If it went poorly, I might drive the farm further into the hole. No pressure.

        When I was a child, Bellamy Farm was composed of four hun­dred acres. When my grandfather died, he divided the farm in half between his two sons. Years after my uncle died, Stacey, my cousin, sold the half of the farm she’d inherited from her father so that she could pursue her real passion in local theater.

        She sold the land to a developer for a pretty penny, but then the development company landed in some trouble. As a result, that portion of the old Bellamy Farm was left to waste. As far as I knew, the development company still owned the property but had made no changes to the land. I wondered if it was just biding its time until the housing market boomed again and the second half of Bellamy Farm could be transformed into a subdivision. A subdivision on our family’s land would make my grandfather do somersaults in his grave, and it made me a bit queasy just thinking about it. Ideally, I would have the money someday to buy the land and put Bellamy Farm back together again. However, since I didn’t even have enough money to replace the shutters on the farmhouse, it wasn’t looking good.

        My father, Sullivan “Sully” Bellamy, stood next to me, gripping the arms of his walker. In his early eighties, he was perpetually cold and had a sour disposition that occasionally the right person could crack and make him smile. I was rarely that person. At the moment, he wasn’t pleased with me at all. There were very few things my father enjoyed less than being around large groups of people. Hundreds of people invading his sleepy farm was his worst nightmare.

            My father wore a black stocking cap that was pulled down over his bushy, gray eyebrows. The cap gave him a bandit-like appear­ance. He glowered at me. “How on earth are you going to feed all these people?”

It was a good question. My fawn-colored pug, Huckleberry, stood at my father’s feet and cocked his head as if he considered this too. Then he glanced around with his wide-eyed pug stare. It looked like his round, brown eyes might just pop out of his head. I leaned over and scooped up the pug and hugged him close. I knew when my dog needed comfort. Maybe I needed some too.

            Dad shook his head. “You’ve turned the farm into a circus.”

            “Dad, this is great PR.” My voice was a tad shaky.

            “Not if these people go home hungry. I’d say that’s terrible PR. In fact, that’s the worst PR that you can get. I don’t know what it’s like in California, but when someone shows up at an event in Michigan, they had better not leave with an empty belly or there will be hell to pay. I can tell you that!”

I glanced at the food table that was becoming sparse. When the festival began two hours ago, it had been piled high with plastic containers and bakery boxes of my organic baked goods. I used the festival as an opportunity to test my organic recipes. I had always loved to bake, especially with my Grandma Bellamy while growing up, but when I had been in LA, I had little opportunity. Too many people in the Golden State avoided carbs, myself included. Since returning to Michigan, my passion for baking had returned and I had wild dreams of someday having a bakery and café on our property that would serve real, organic farm-to-table fare that was produced right here on Bellamy Farm. The dream was a long way off, but the festival was a start, and I had truly believed it was a good start until it began.

        I thought I had baked enough for the two days of the festival. There were over three hundred items ranging from cookies to muffins to cakes, but it would never be enough.

        My assistant, Chesney Stevens, made a face at me. She was a tall and strong woman in her late twenties with brown hair that just brushed the top of her shoulders. She always wore a cloth headband to hold the hair back from her face. Chesney was a grad­uate student whom I had hired a few weeks back when I realized I couldn’t do everything I needed to at the farm myself. She only worked as much as I could pay her, which admittedly wasn’t a lot, but having her help for the ten to fifteen hours a week I could afford made a huge difference.

        She was the perfect candidate for the job. She was getting her MBA with a concentration in agricultural business at my old alma mater in Traverse City but lived right here in Cherry Glen. She rented a small house in town with her younger sister. The little money I could pay would help her get by and supplement the sti­pends she received from the university for her graduate program. It all sounded too good to be true, so being me, I expected that it was.

        Imagine my happy surprise when she turned out to be just who she said she was. There was no way I could have pulled off Fall Daze without Chesney’s help. The last few weeks we worked tirelessly to make the worn-down farm presentable for this big event, and now it might be ruined because people would go home hungry.

            I swallowed. “I have enough apples to make more apple cider,” I told my father. “And I’ve called in reinforcements. They should be here soon. There’s more to Fall Daze than food. There’s the corn maze, yard games, and the hayride—plenty for everyone to do while they wait to eat. Don’t worry, Dad. I’ve got this handled.”

            “Looks like you do,” he muttered and shuffled away.

            I sighed and went back to Chesney at the food table.

            Chesney handed a customer her change. “Enjoy your cherry strudel!” she said with a bright smile.

            The customer walked away, and while the next person in line considered what was left on the table, Chesney whispered to me. “We’re running low.”

            “I know. I called a friend. She should be here soon with more food.”

            “You have a friend who is an organic baker?” Her blue eyes went wide.

            “Not exactly…”

            “Shi!” a friendly voice called to me from the pasture. Kristy Brown walked toward me, weaving in and around the people standing in front of the barn waiting in line for food.

Kristy pushed a double stroller. She was a new mom of twin girls, and she looked quite pleased with herself. “Look at this turn­out! You did a great job getting people to come!” Her dark eyes sparkled. She wore a brightly colored handwoven scarf around her neck. The scarf was yellow, orange, pink, red, and lime green. The colors should have clashed with the rest of her outfit, but the intri­cate geometric pattern of the scarf just worked. I knew the scarf well. Kristy had had it for over twenty years, a gift from one of her aunts in Mexico.

        My eyes went wide. “This is because of your spot on TV. I had very little to do with it.”

        “Don’t be modest.” When I didn’t say anything, she studied my face. “What’s wrong?”

        I set Huckleberry on the ground. He walked over to the stroller, put his forepaws on the side of it, and peeked in at the sleeping twins. Huckleberry looked back at me with a whimper.

        Kristy laughed. “Looks like he wants a little sister.”

         I frowned. “He has plenty of little sisters and brothers in the barn cats. There are the chickens too.”

        She rolled her eyes. “Your chickens do not qualify as siblings for Huckleberry. They are more like a street gang.”

        “That seems a little harsh.”

        “Shi, one of the chickens chased a woman through the corn maze until a volunteer caught and locked the chicken up.”

        I winced. “I thought they were all in the coop.”

        Hearing this news about the chickens, I was more grateful than ever for the high school volunteers who were helping Chesney and me out with the event. All of them were members of the high school’s Future Farmers of America chapter. To be honest, they were prob­ably a lot better at chasing chickens than I was. There were thirteen high school student volunteers in total. They guarded the corn maze—from wild chickens apparently—drove the hayride, super­vised the pumpkin picking in the pumpkin patch, and helped park the long line of cars. I would be in a lot worse shape without them, including having to deal with a lawsuit over a chicken attack.

“I bet it was Diva,” I said. Diva was a chicken who more than lived up to her name. “She’s my most disobedient hen.”

Copyright Amanda Flower 2022. All rights reserved.

KEEP READING! ORDER THE BOOK. AVAILABLE ANYWHERE BOOKS ARE SOLD!

Amazon Barnes and Noble

FEATURED BOOK OF THE WEEK

There’s fowl play afoot on the farm

Shiloh Bellamy has saved her family’s farm from financial ruin—but now what? She’s barely scraping by on the farm’s new organic business model and the fall festival she organized to drum up business comes to a screeching halt when the body of a prominent townswoman is discovered underneath a scarecrow in a nearby field. Worst of all, the evidence points to Shiloh’s childhood best friend, Kristy, as the prime suspect.

Between cooking up delicious treats made with her farm’s produce, convincing her cantankerous father to let her do things her own way, and dealing with a newcomer in town who could be serious competition for her customers, Shiloh doesn’t have time to wade into a murder investigation. But with a killer on the loose and suspicious activity circling closer and closer to Shiloh and the people she loves, she realizes there’s nothing to do but roll up her sleeves and get down to the dirty work of finding the killer and clearing Kristy’s name once and for all.

Amazon Barnes and Noble

Happy reading!

Amanda

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February is not my favorite month. By this point, I’m tired of winter and longing to garden again. It’s easy to become a little blue when it’s still cold and dark outside after so many weeks. However to keep my spirits up, I’ve made a list of what I like about my least favorite month this year. It’s a reminder that if you look for good thing, you will find it. The same rule applies to the bad thing too. My list is below. What would be on your list?

My nephew’s birthdayValentine’s DayBy the end of the month, the sun is setting after 6pm.It’s short.Seed catalogsPut to Pasture release 2/22Birds at the bird feederAn occasional springlike dayThe Olympics Planning for spring

Pre-order Marriage Can Be Mischief, Farm to Table Mystery #2, from the Learned Owl Book Shop and get a signed copy of the book and exclusive Because I Could Not Stop For Death magnet!
They ship!
Order from the Learned Owl https://www.learnedowl.com/book/9781492699941
You can also order by phone! 330-653-2252 / 800-968-2685

There’s fowl play afoot on the farm

Shiloh Bellamy has saved her family’s farm from financial ruin—but now what? She’s barely scraping by on the farm’s new organic business model and the fall festival she organized to drum up business comes to a screeching halt when the body of a prominent townswoman is discovered underneath a scarecrow in a nearby field. Worst of all, the evidence points to Shiloh’s childhood best friend, Kristy, as the prime suspect.

Between cooking up delicious treats made with her farm’s produce, convincing her cantankerous father to let her do things her own way, and dealing with a newcomer in town who could be serious competition for her customers, Shiloh doesn’t have time to wade into a murder investigation. But with a killer on the loose and suspicious activity circling closer and closer to Shiloh and the people she loves, she realizes there’s nothing to do but roll up her sleeves and get down to the dirty work of finding the killer and clearing Kristy’s name once and for all.

FEATURED BOOK OF THE WEEK

You can pre-order the title HERE!

Happy reading!

Amanda

Join my email list

By clicking submit, you agree to share your email address with the site owner and Mailchimp to receive marketing, updates, and other emails from the site owner. Use the unsubscribe link in those emails to opt out at any time.

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Pre-order Marriage Can Be Mischief, Farm to Table Mystery #2, from the Learned Owl Book Shop and get a signed copy of the book and exclusive Because I Could Not Stop For Death magnet!
They ship!
Order from the Learned Owl https://www.learnedowl.com/book/9781492699941
You can also order by phone! 330-653-2252 / 800-968-2685

There’s fowl play afoot on the farm

Shiloh Bellamy has saved her family’s farm from financial ruin—but now what? She’s barely scraping by on the farm’s new organic business model and the fall festival she organized to drum up business comes to a screeching halt when the body of a prominent townswoman is discovered underneath a scarecrow in a nearby field. Worst of all, the evidence points to Shiloh’s childhood best friend, Kristy, as the prime suspect.

Between cooking up delicious treats made with her farm’s produce, convincing her cantankerous father to let her do things her own way, and dealing with a newcomer in town who could be serious competition for her customers, Shiloh doesn’t have time to wade into a murder investigation. But with a killer on the loose and suspicious activity circling closer and closer to Shiloh and the people she loves, she realizes there’s nothing to do but roll up her sleeves and get down to the dirty work of finding the killer and clearing Kristy’s name once and for all.

FEATURED BOOK OF THE WEEK

You can pre-order the title HERE!

Happy reading!

Amanda

Join my email list

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As a vegetarian, I eat a lot of salad, and I get tired of the same old thing all the time. To avoid getting bored, I have been making a variety of new salads that are low in calorie but bursting with flavor. One of my favorites is my Easy Chickpea Salad. It’s fast and delicious. I hope you enjoy!

Easy Chickpea Salad

Ingredients

15 oz can of chickpeas2 tablespoons of light Miracle Whip or light mayonnaise2 stalks of celery chopped4 sweet pickles chopped1 tablespoon dill weedsalt & pepper to tasteLettuce

Directions

Rinse chickpeasWith a potato masher or fork crush chickpeasPut crushed chickpeas and all other ingredients and mixMake a bed of lettuce and put the chickpea salad on topEnjoy

FEATURED BOOK OF THE WEEK

Pre-order Marriage Can Be Mischief, Farm to Table Mystery #2, from the Learned Owl Book Shop and get a signed copy of the book and exclusive lemon recipe card!
They ship!
Order from the Learned Owl https://www.learnedowl.com/book/9781492699941
You can also order by phone! 330-653-2252 / 800-968-2685

There’s fowl play afoot on the farm

Shiloh Bellamy has saved her family’s farm from financial ruin—but now what? She’s barely scraping by on the farm’s new organic business model and the fall festival she organized to drum up business comes to a screeching halt when the body of a prominent townswoman is discovered underneath a scarecrow in a nearby field. Worst of all, the evidence points to Shiloh’s childhood best friend, Kristy, as the prime suspect.

Between cooking up delicious treats made with her farm’s produce, convincing her cantankerous father to let her do things her own way, and dealing with a newcomer in town who could be serious competition for her customers, Shiloh doesn’t have time to wade into a murder investigation. But with a killer on the loose and suspicious activity circling closer and closer to Shiloh and the people she loves, she realizes there’s nothing to do but roll up her sleeves and get down to the dirty work of finding the killer and clearing Kristy’s name once and for all.

You can pre-order the title HERE!

Happy reading!

Amanda

Join my email list

By clicking submit, you agree to share your email address with the site owner and Mailchimp to receive marketing, updates, and other emails from the site owner. Use the unsubscribe link in those emails to opt out at any time.

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It’s hard to believe January is coming to an end, and Valentine’s Day is right around the corner. If you are are looking for a dessert for your sweetheart, friend, or yourself for the holiday, look no further than my Triple chocolate brownies. My husband said they were in the top three recipes I’ve ever made him. You’ll want to give these a try!

TRIPLE CHOCOLATE BROWNIES

Ingredients

4 eggs2 sticks melted unsalted butter1 teaspoon vanilla extract2 cups sugar1/4 cup milk chocolate cocoa powder1/4 cup dark chocolate cocoa powder1 teaspoon salt1/2 teaspoon baking powder1 cup chopped walnuts1 cup chocolate chips.

Directions

Preheat over to 350 degrees.Grease 9×13 baking dish.Mix together all ingredients in a bowl, holding back 1/4 cup of walnuts.Pour brownie batter into a the baking dish.Sprinkle the remaining walnuts on the top of the batter.Bake for 25-30 minutes.Let cool and enjoy!

FEATURED BOOK OF THE WEEK

Pre-order Marriage Can Be Mischief, Farm to Table Mystery #2, from the Learned Owl Book Shop and get a signed copy of the book and exclusive lemon recipe card!
They ship!
Order from the Learned Owl https://www.learnedowl.com/book/9781492699941
You can also order by phone! 330-653-2252 / 800-968-2685

There’s fowl play afoot on the farm

Shiloh Bellamy has saved her family’s farm from financial ruin—but now what? She’s barely scraping by on the farm’s new organic business model and the fall festival she organized to drum up business comes to a screeching halt when the body of a prominent townswoman is discovered underneath a scarecrow in a nearby field. Worst of all, the evidence points to Shiloh’s childhood best friend, Kristy, as the prime suspect.

Between cooking up delicious treats made with her farm’s produce, convincing her cantankerous father to let her do things her own way, and dealing with a newcomer in town who could be serious competition for her customers, Shiloh doesn’t have time to wade into a murder investigation. But with a killer on the loose and suspicious activity circling closer and closer to Shiloh and the people she loves, she realizes there’s nothing to do but roll up her sleeves and get down to the dirty work of finding the killer and clearing Kristy’s name once and for all.

You can pre-order the title HERE!

Happy reading!

Amanda

Join my email list

By clicking submit, you agree to share your email address with the site owner and Mailchimp to receive marketing, updates, and other emails from the site owner. Use the unsubscribe link in those emails to opt out at any time.

Processing… Success! You're on the list. Whoops! There was an error and we couldn't process your subscription. Please reload the page and try again.

Pre-order Marriage Can Be Mischief, Farm to Table Mystery #2, from the Learned Owl Book Shop and get a signed copy of the book and exclusive lemon recipe card!
They ship!
Order from the Learned Owl https://www.learnedowl.com/book/9781492699941
You can also order by phone! 330-653-2252 / 800-968-2685

There’s fowl play afoot on the farm

Shiloh Bellamy has saved her family’s farm from financial ruin—but now what? She’s barely scraping by on the farm’s new organic business model and the fall festival she organized to drum up business comes to a screeching halt when the body of a prominent townswoman is discovered underneath a scarecrow in a nearby field. Worst of all, the evidence points to Shiloh’s childhood best friend, Kristy, as the prime suspect.

Between cooking up delicious treats made with her farm’s produce, convincing her cantankerous father to let her do things her own way, and dealing with a newcomer in town who could be serious competition for her customers, Shiloh doesn’t have time to wade into a murder investigation. But with a killer on the loose and suspicious activity circling closer and closer to Shiloh and the people she loves, she realizes there’s nothing to do but roll up her sleeves and get down to the dirty work of finding the killer and clearing Kristy’s name once and for all.

FEATURED BOOK OF THE WEEK

You can pre-order the title HERE!

Happy reading!

Amanda

Join my email list

By clicking submit, you agree to share your email address with the site owner and Mailchimp to receive marketing, updates, and other emails from the site owner. Use the unsubscribe link in those emails to opt out at any time.

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It’s finally here! The last installment of the Magical Bookshop Mysteries has arrived! I am so glad that I am able to bring this final novel in the series to you and end the adored series right where I wanted it to end. It’s been hard to say good-bye to these characters and the world of Charming Books and Cascade Springs, but I know it’s time. Thank you for loving these books. This series would not have lived on so long without my amazing readers. I hope you love the end as much as I do. For Violet, Rainwater, Grandma Daisy, Faulkner, Emerson, all the other beloved characters found in this series, and for myself, thank you for reading!

Now enjoy this sneak peek!

Love, Amanda

CRIMES AND COVERS

Chapter One

“Violet, we have to talk about the wedding!” Sadie said as she bounced through the front door of Charming Books. Bouncing was Sadie’s main mode of movement. She wore a red dress with white faux fur trim and a matching red beret on her head. No one since the 1920s has loved a beret as much as Sadie. She was basically Tigger in a Mrs. Claus outfit.

In my arms, I held a stack of new fiction releases to be shelved as Sadie excitedly told me everything we needed to do for the big day.

“And then there is the cake, and the favors—you have to have favors because you don’t want to look cheap—and the candles—”

My head began to spin. I set the stack of books on one of the couches in front of the large fireplace, which ran at full steam in the middle of the winter. Charming Books was the bookstore I owned with my Grandma Daisy in the small village of Cascade Springs, New York. The village was only a fifteen-minute drive from the majestic Niagara Falls, and Decembers here were bit­terly cold. The fireplace had been going around the clock since Halloween.

Faulkner, the shop crow, flapped his wings from the second lowest branch on the birch tree that grew in the middle of the bookshop. It was just after ten in the morning, and Faulkner liked a quiet snooze after his breakfast of fruit and peanuts. Being awakened by a bouncing Christmas elf was not on his agenda.

The birch tree was the soul of the bookstore and the heart of the its magic. Some might think all bookshops have magic because the books found on their shelves can transport read­ers away to new places. But, in the case of Charming Books, I meant it quite literally. The shop could talk… sort of… It was complicated.

Sadie twirled, and her skirt kicked out around her in a red ring. I was happy to see she was wearing leggings underneath her dress.

Emerson, my tuxedo cat, wound his way around my feet. I scooped him up and set him on the back of the couch. “Sadie, what do I have to do for the wedding? You and Grandma Daisy told me all I have to do is show up.” I was to marry my fiancé, Chief David Rainwater of the Cascade Springs Police Depart­ment, the weekend before Christmas. Rainwater was everything that I could want in a partner and husband. I couldn’t wait to spend the rest of my life with him. I still called him by his last name all the time, even though we were engaged. Old habits die hard and all that.

However, neither of us was excited about planning a wed­ding. After I offhandedly mentioned to my grandmother, Mayor Daisy Waverly of Cascade Springs—yes, my fiancé was the police chief and my grandmother was the mayor—she and Sadie took the wedding planning into their own hands. Rainwa­ter and I had just held on for the ride.

“I know,” she said. “But the wedding is three days away. We have to get you ready.”

“Get me ready?” I squeaked.

“There’s your hair, makeup, nails. A juice cleanse is not out of the question.”

I tugged on the hem of my red Charming Books sweatshirt. “Oh, it is definitely out of the question. Trust me on that.”

She stopped twirling and dropped her arms, looking like a little girl who’d lost her balloon. Sadie was six years younger than me and was petite with silky black hair and a bright spirit. She had the best vintage wardrobe in the state since she owned Midcentury Vintage, the clothing boutique that was across River Road from Charming Books. She was the one of the first people to befriend me when I moved back to Cascade Springs and was like a younger sister to me. Making Sadie frown was never a goal of mine. I would have to compromise.

“You can paint my nails,” I said, hoping my lacquered olive branch would put an end to the juice cleanse conversation.

She clapped her hands. “Excellent!” She paused. “What juice flavors do you like the most? Lemon packs the biggest punch to rid your body of toxins.”

“As much as I love you, I’m still saying no to the juice cleanse.” I walked over to the sales counter and leaned against it.

“Okay, fine,” she conceded. “But Violet, you are getting married, and you’re acting like it’s no big deal.”

I might be acting like it was no big deal, but it was a huge deal. Massive. Colossal. The proof of it sat on the ring fin­ger of my left hand. The bright green emerald glittered in the morning light streaming in from the skylight above the birch tree. Rainwater had told me that he knew I needed something unique, and the stone was as green as the leaves on the birch that I held so dear. It was his way of saying he not only accepted but supported my connection to this place and the tree. It was the perfect choice.

Sadie put her hands on her hips. “Aren’t you excited about the wedding?”

“I’m excited about being married to David,” I said. “The whole day is intimidating. Any time you and Grandma Daisy talk about it, it seems to grow bigger and bigger. We just wanted a small ceremony.”

“You know the whole village is invited, right?”

How well I knew that. We would get married here at Charming Books, but since we couldn’t possibly fit all the guests that my grandmother felt she was obligated to invite, we would be having the ceremony on the front porch of the bookstore. Grandma Daisy, in her capacity of mayor, would be officiat­ing. Sadie was my maid-of-honor and Rainwater’s younger sister Danielle was his best woman. At least they let me keep the wed­ding party small like I’d wanted. I’d won a few small battles in the plans. I wasn’t naïve enough to think I’d won the war.

There was one more potential member of the wedding party—Fenimore James, my father. But I hadn’t spoken to him in months, and I didn’t know if he would attend. I didn’t even know if I wanted him to be there.

Sadie sighed. “Vi, we are so different. I want a huge wed­ding. It’s the one time in your life that you truly are the center of attention. When I get married, it will be a giant blowout and I won’t make apologies for that.”

I smiled. “And no one is asking you to.” Sadie’s dream might not be that far away. After years of chasing the wrong man, she had finally found a good and decent guy, Simon Chase, who was stable and over-the-moon in love with her. I wouldn’t be the least bit surprised if she got a ring for Christmas.

“Now back to that manicure. My friend at the salon has an opening tomorrow morning. She can give you a hair trial too.”

I raised my brow. “An opening this close to Christmas?” I asked.

Sadie nodded. “We got lucky, two people just canceled. Don’t worry, no one else will snap it up. I already grabbed it and talked to Daisy about watching the store while you’re out. It will take a few hours.”

“Hours?” I squeaked, realizing that I squeak a lot when it came to listening to Sadie and Grandma Daisy’s plans.

“Well, we couldn’t do it before this because you were busy at the end of the semester. We have to cram everything together in one day. Don’t worry, we will get it done. I have an itinerary.”

I knew this was true. December was always a crazy time for me between the shop and the end of the semester at Springside Community College, where I was an adjunct English professor.

Before I could ask Sadie what exactly was on the itinerary, the front door of Charming Books opened and a delivery man walked inside.

He had so many boxes stacked in his arms that I couldn’t see his face, but I knew it had to be my delivery man.

“Hank!” I cried, and ran over to help. “What are you doing carrying all those boxes in at once? They are all books. You could throw your back out.” I took the top two boxes from the stack. When I did, I could see most of his narrow face turn into a wide grin.

Hank was a congenial man, close to Rainwater’s age, so somewhere near forty. He had a beard and wore the insignia jacket of his delivery company, NY Box. He was an inch or two shorter than I was and had a thin frame like he had run cross-country in high school.

He has been delivering to my store since early September. He told me once that he’d taken the delivery job to make some extra money for his family, especially for his ill daughter, and now planned to continue after the new year.

He placed the three remaining boxes on the hardwood floor by the sales counter. “Aww, you know I have to keep pushing myself to carry more. The more boxes I can deliver all at once, the more stops I can make and the more money I can earn. Also, you know I love coming here the most.” He rubbed his hands together. “What do you have for me today?”

I chuckled. “I’ve got a new teen romance in I know Abby will enjoy.” I walked to the stack of books that I had left on the couch and picked up a hardback with a glossy silver cover.

“I know Abby will love it. She has loved every book that you’ve given her,” Hank says. “We are so grateful to you for them. The books are huge comfort to her during treatment.”

I smiled. Hank’s fifteen-year-old daughter Abby had been in treatment for lymphoma for over a year. I knew how hard it was on Hank and the entire family. On a personal level, I knew how hard it was to watch because my mother died of cancer when I was close to Abby’s age.

“She will probably read the whole thing in one sitting.” Hank’s eyes glimmered. “How much is it?”

“No cost. It’s yours.” I held the book out to him.

Hank waved me away. “Violet, you can’t keep giving me books.”

I just smiled.

He sighed. “Someday I’ll be able to pay you back for all that you’ve given me.”’

“Just think of it as a tip for your great service delivering all the supplies we need for the shop.”

He chuckled. “Nice try, but my company doesn’t want us to take tips.”

“Okay, it’s not a tip then. It’s just a Christmas gift for Abby.” I held it out a little further.

He accepted the book. “I guess I can take a Christmas gift for my daughter. That’s different.”

“It’s very different,” I said, but as I spoke, Hank was already reading the dust jacket closely.

“This sounds like something she’d love. I don’t know how you find all these authors that she likes so much. You always know what she wants to read.” He held onto the book tightly. “It’s like some kind of magic.”

Something like that, I thought as I glanced at the tree.

“Violet is the book whisperer,” Sadie chimed in. “Every time I come into the store, I leave with books to read. Violet really knows her stuff.”

“Imposter,” Faulkner cawed from the branches. Leave it to Faulkner to call me out.

Hank’s whole body jerked at the sound of the bird. “I will never get used to that crow looming overhead. There are a lot of scary animals on my route, but your crow takes the cake. Are you sure he won’t attack someday?”

“Faulkner is harmless. He talks big but would rather nap than cause any real trouble.”

“False,” the large black crow countered.

I shot him a look. He wasn’t doing himself any favors by proving me wrong.

Hank rubbed the bottom of his beard. “It’s like he under­stands you.”

“He might understand a little. Crows are very smart—on par with dolphins and pigs even.”

Hank wrinkled his brow and removed the scanner from his belt and held it out to me. “Just sign here with your finger, and we are good to go.”

I did as I was told.

“Thanks.” He clipped his scanner back on his belt and held up the book. “Thank you for this. I have a lot more stops on my route today, but I can’t wait to give this to Abby as soon as I get home.”

“Sounds like a perfect December night,” I said with a smile.

“You bet it is.” He grinned and headed for the door. “Sadie, I left a package outside your door too.”

“Oh, thanks. I’ll go grab it now. I think Violet needs a break from my wedding talk.”

He paused. “Wedding talk?”

“Oh, Violet and Chief Rainwater are getting married on Saturday. You didn’t know?”

“They are?” His eyes went wide.

“Violet, you didn’t tell Hank?” Sadie’s question was border­ing on an accusation.

I wrinkled my brow. “Should I have?”

“Of course.” She reached into the pocket of her Mrs. Claus dress. “Here’s an invite, Hank. If you are free, you should come. It will be the party of the year!”

He took the invitation and tucked it into the front cover of the book I had given him. “Well, if I’m not on the route, I’ll try to come. I’m never one to turn down free cake.”

“You’re a guy after my own heart, Hank,” Sadie said and turned to me. “Violet, we can go over your beauty regimen later.”

Regimen? Who said anything about a regimen?

“Sounds like your wedding will be quite a big to-do. I thank my lucky stars every day that my wife agreed to elope.”

At the moment, I wished I had done the same when Rainwa­ter brought it up right after we had gotten engaged.

Hank waved, but as he went out the door, a woman blew in with a gust of snow, blocking his path. “Excuse me,” Hank said and tried to maneuver around her, but she didn’t budge.

Another gust of cold air, snowflakes, and a few stray leaves blew into shop. The wind was enough to make the large birch tree sway, and Faulkner complained from his perch. He puffed up his feathers to fight the cold.

When the snow settled, the small woman in a long skirt and a giant coat stood in the doorway. A stocking cap was pulled far down over her face, covering her eyebrows. A scarf hid the lower half of her face. We could not see anything but her bright blue eyes.

“Excuse me,” Hank said.

She glanced at him and moved to let him by.

Sadie and I stared at her. Her skirt was so long it even cov­ered her shoes, making her look like she was floating.

“What do I have to do to get some customer service?” the woman asked in a high-pitched voice.

I stepped forward. “I’m so sorry. How can I help? Can we help you find a book?”

Her icy blue eyes turned to me and narrowed. “I’m not here to buy a book. I’m here to sell a book. I’m looking for a woman named Violet Waverly?”

My eyes widened. “I’m Violet. We don’t have a very large used book section, but I will be happy to talk to you about what­ever it is that you wish to sell.”

“You most certainly will,” she said in an almost threatening tone.

Sadie must have heard the threat in the woman’s words as well because she stepped closer to me. I don’t know how she thought she was going to protect me in her red velvet dress and high-heeled boots, but she would surely try. Sadie picked up Emerson like she would protect him too. This did not sit well with the little tuxedo cat, who tried to wriggle out of her grasp.

Emerson was not a timid cat. He jumped to the floor and circled the strange woman like a cheetah on the hunt. My guard was up. When my cat didn’t trust someone, it was noteworthy.

I walked over to the counter. “I’m happy to see what you have, and we can take it from there.”

The woman shuffled across the shop’s old floorboards as I slipped behind the sales counter. Typically, I never sat there unless I was ringing up a sale. I liked to be out on the floor where I could interact with the customers. I encouraged the two part-time clerks I had recently hired to do the same. This time, I felt more secure with some space between the woman and me.

“You said you had a book?” I questioned. There was nothing in the woman’s hands.

She unzipped her massive coat and reached inside to pull out a package wrapped in brown paper.

Standing on her tippy toes, she set the package on the coun­ter. With an air of reverence, she unwrapped a very old book, one I couldn’t believe I was seeing with my own eyes, in my shop.

I stared at it. It couldn’t be…

She removed her hat, revealing a curly mop of reddish-gray hair underneath. As she removed the scarf, I saw she had a tiny nose and pointed chin. “How much will you give me for that?”

I couldn’t put a price on it. I was speechless.

KEEP READING!

FEATURED BOOK OF THE WEEK

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Violet Waverly sleuths a Thoreau-ly puzzling Christmastime murder in Agatha Award-winning, USA Today bestselling author Amanda Flower’s fifth Magical Bookshop mystery.

Christmas is coming to the Western New York village of Cascade Springs, and so is the long-awaited wedding of Charming Books proprietor Violet Waverly and police chief David Rainwater. Grandma Daisy and Violet’s best friend, Sadie, go all out to make the nuptials the event of the season–whether Violet likes it or not. But the reception becomes memorable for all the wrong reasons when a woman’s dead body floats by on the frigid Niagara River.

Violet is shocked to recognize the deceased as a mysterious woman who visited Charming Books two days before the wedding, toting a rare first edition of Henry David Thoreau’s Walden. Well aware that a mint condition copy could be worth more than $14,000, Violet told the woman she would have to have the book appraised before she could consider buying it. Most displeased, the woman tucked the precious tome under her arm and stormed out of the shop. Now she’s dead, and an enigmatic message scrawled in pen upon her palm reads, “They stole my book.”

It’s a confounding case, indeed. But fortunately, Violet can draw on the resources of her bookshop’s magical consciousness, which communicates clues to Violet via quotes from Walden. With Emerson the tuxedo cat and Faulkner the crow at her side, Violet sets out to recover the priceless book by solving a murder most transcendental.

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