Title Mistletoe, Mutts and Murder
Author S.A.Kazlo
Genre Cozy mystery
Publisher Gemma Halliday Publishing
Book Blurb
Christmas is coming and children’s book author, Samantha Davies, and her lovable dachshund, Porkchop, are caught up in the holiday festivities in beautiful upstate New York. Sam’s parents, Chuck and Barbara, who have been enjoying their retired life in sunny Florida, have flown into Wings Falls to spend the holidays with Sam and meet her new boyfriend, Detective Hank Johnson. Sam is also busy hosting this year’s Christmas party for the Loopy Ladies, Sam’s rug hooking group.The Loopy Ladies know how to party and are enjoying an evening eating, drinking, and making merry... until Santa crashes the party. Unfortunately, this Santa is Sam’s next-door neighbor who her parents have had a long-running feud with. When not playing the local mall’s not-so-jolly old St. Nick, Leo Sayers is a newspaper reporter, and he announces to the group that he's written a damning article accusing Sam’s dad and his close friend, Herb Feinstein, of some very shady dealings in their past. To preserve peace on earth—and among the Loopy Ladies—Chuck and Herb escort Leo from the party.Only, not long after being sent on his way, Santa is found dead—lying in the snow, run over by a plastic reindeer, with a string of Christmas lights around his neck! Are Sam’s father and Herb now on the naughty list? If Sam can’t prove them innocent of murdering Santa, she's afraid their stockings will contain handcuffs and a one-way ticket to prison this year!
Excerpt
CHAPTER ONE
"How about here?"
"Maybe next to Rudolph." I pointed to the plastic, red-nosed reindeer ornament I had hung on my Christmas tree. "My parents bought him for my first Christmas."
"Your wish is my command." Hank Johnson, my boyfriend, carefully placed a delicate gold-winged angel next to Rudolph, then reached over with his strong, callused fingers and tucked a strand of curly brown hair behind my ear that had fallen over my eyes. Next, he leaned down and kissed me. I grabbed onto his wide shoulders for fear my legs would collapse from the searing heat of his kiss.
I stepped back from his embrace to catch my breath and glanced at my Timex watch. My parents gave it to me years ago as a graduation present. Despite its age, it still kept on ticking. "I guess we should start getting ready to pick up Mom and Dad at the airport. Their plane will arrive in a little over an hour."
"Do you want to clean up these boxes before we go?" Hank pointed to the open ornament boxes scattered on my sofa, chairs, and the floor of my living room. We'd spent the better part of the afternoon decorating my Christmas tree and house.
I loved the Christmas holidays but not so much all the fuss and muss that went with them. "I guess we should. I don’t want Mom to think I'm not taking proper care of the home they gifted me." She'd always kept it neat as a pin. At any unexpected moment it could have passed the white glove test. Unfortunately, I wasn't as devoted a housekeeper as her. There have been times when my dust bunnies had morphed into dust elephants.
After I divorced my cheating ex, George, my parents signed my childhood home over to me and retired to Florida to enjoy the sunshine and warm weather. Since they'd moved south a little over five years ago, they'd flown home only a few times. We kept in touch with weekly phone calls, but they preferred the Florida winters to the cold and snowy ones of upstate New York. I glanced out my front living room window and noticed a few white flakes floating down from the gray skies.
With my hands on my hips, I gave the tree a critical look. I felt sure my parents would love it. "So, what do you think of our afternoon's work?" I asked Hank. He was busy loading empty ornament boxes into plastic bins.
He stopped his efforts and glanced towards the tree. "I think it's beautiful—just like you."
His compliment caused a rush of heat to flush my cheeks. After a year and half of dating him, I was still getting used to his kind words. Praise was few and far between in the twenty-five years I had been married to George.
"What do you say about our handiwork, Porkchop?" Hank asked my reddish-brown dachshund who lay on the floor playing with a wad of tissue paper.
"Woof, woof," Porkchop replied.
Hank and I both laughed.
"I'm going to interpret his barks to mean he approves," I said, placing an empty ornament box into a bin on top of the ones Hank had already placed inside.
As I gazed around the room at the decorations on display, fond memories of my childhood growing up in this house flooded me. Tears threatened to escape my eyes. I was overcome with visions of me hanging my stocking on the fireplace mantle and rushing down the hall from my bedroom to see what Santa Claus had left under the tree on Christmas morning.
Hank reached for my hand and led me over to the sofa. He moved the empty ornament boxes to the trunk that served as my coffee table. "Here. Sit. Tell me what you're thinking."
I settled myself onto the chintz-covered sofa, swiped at the tears that threatened to fall with the back of my hand, then nestled into Hank's arms. The warmth of his body wrapped around me was comforting. Porkchop jumped up on the sofa and settled himself next to me. I gazed into the roaring fire Hank had made in the fireplace when he'd arrived at my house this morning.
"Oh, I was strolling down memory lane, remembering Christmases past." I glanced up at him. "I bet with seven kids in your family you had some very lively Christmases."
Hank chuckled. "Lively? More like bedlam. How my mom handled all of us, I don't know."
I joined in his laughter. "She must have been a saint rearing all of you on her own." Hank's father was an Albany fireman who died in the line of Duty leaving Hank's mom to raise seven children by herself.
"Yeah, I agree," Hank nodded. He pointed to the window I'd glanced out of earlier. "Let me put these bins back in your attic, then we’d better head out for the airport. The snow isn't much now, but you never know what it will be like by the time your folks' flight lands."
I pushed myself off the sofa. "You're right. I love a white Christmas, but I could do with no snow until after Mom and Dad are safely here. Let me help you, then I'll see to Porkchop before we go."
Hank kissed the top of my head. "You take care of Porkie and I'll put the bins away. First, I'd better call Aaron and see how Nina is doing."
Aaron is Hank's younger brother. He moved in with Hank about a year ago. His mother sent him north to live with Hank to get away from a rough crowd in Albany he was hanging around. She hoped since Hank was a detective with the Wings Falls Police Department, my hometown, it would be a good influence on him. Thankfully, it was. Nina, Hank's miniature bulldog—well, she was the other love of both Hank's and Porkchop.
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Author Biography
Syrl, a retired teacher, lives in upstate New York with her husband and two lively dachshunds. She writes the Samantha Davies Mystery series, featuring Samantha Davies and her loveable dachshund, Porkchop. When not writing she is busy hooking, rug hooking that is, and enjoying her family. Her newest book, number six in the series, Mistletoe, Mutts and Murder will be released in December 2024
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