Holly Jolly Homicide Sneak Peek

Hi, friends! I missed a couple of weeks talking with you because I was sick, then my family was. I still have some residual annoying symptoms. Ugh. ‘Tis the season, I suppose.

Anyway, I turned 50 this week! My friends and family made me feel loved, and it wasn’t a hard birthday for me. I mean, I already bought the bifocals last month, so maybe I went through the existential dread already. Ha!

The big news is that, yesterday, I finished Holly Jolly Homicide! Okay, I finished writing it anyway. It still needs a round of edits, then a proofreading round in between Thanksgiving festivities this week.

BUT it’s going to publish on time on December 3rd, and I’m so excited. I really like this story!

I’m so eager to see what people think that I decided I couldn’t wait. I’m going to show you Chapter 1. Remember, it still needs a proofreading round, but since you’re my most loyal readers, I didn’t think you’d mind if there was a typo hanging around.

Feel free to share the post with any friends of yours who like paranormal cozy mysteries, and you can pre-order Holly Jolly Homicide so the ebook gets delivered to you first thing December 3rd. It will also be in Kindle Unlimited, and I’ll have a paperback version available too, though the timing on that is a little wobbly right now. Hopefully by publishing day.

Without further adieu, here’s Chapter 1. Let me know what you think!

Chapter 1

For the hundredth time of the day, I yanked at the hem of my shirt. The green tunic refused to cooperate, its too-short hem riding up as though it had a vendetta against my modesty. I directed my next breath upward, blowing a chunk of dark hair from my eye, and forced a bright smile for the red-faced little boy standing across from me.

“Is it okay with your mom if you have another one?” I asked, slipping into the saccharine tone I’d perfected over the last two weeks at what was easily the worst job I’d ever had. To seal the deal, I followed up with a wink and scanned the crowd for his mother.

The department store’s Santa’s Grotto was bustling, a glittering corner of Tadgerson’s transformed into a holiday wonderland. Piles of faux snow shimmered under the glow of twinkling lights, and six heavily decorated Christmas trees framed Santa’s throne. The chair—a high-backed monstrosity upholstered in green velvet and trimmed in gold—sat beneath an arch of candy canes, the whole display bordered by garlands that were starting to shed glitter like they were molting.

For some, it probably felt like a magical winter wonderland. For me? A headache-inducing, anxiety-fueled holiday nightmare.

“Yeah, she said I can!” The boy’s face grew redder, his voice climbing into a squeaky register as he wiped sticky hands on his shirt, leaving a fresh brown smear beside his miniature blue tie.

“Maybe you should wait until after your picture with Santa,” I suggested, hoping to avoid another mess.

“No!” he screeched, loudly enough that a nearby shopper winced. “I want it now!”

Resigned, I poured him a half-cup of lukewarm cocoa, topped it with a dollop of whipped cream, and passed it over. He grabbed the cup with sticky fingers, chugged three-quarters of it like he’d been trekking through a desert, and promptly spilled the rest down the front of his shirt.

“Perfect,” I muttered under my breath as he tossed the empty cup onto the table and darted off toward the Christmas trees to join a group of kids. I grabbed a napkin to mop up the table, fully expecting to be yelled at by the kid’s mom any minute.

“It’s not your fault,” Mia said, my best friend’s voice a welcome balm against the chaos around me. She sidled up with an armful of twinkling lights, her own elf costume fitting perfectly because of course it did. She was the store’s decorator, and the time between Thanksgiving and Christmas was her favorite of the year. “If his mom isn’t paying attention, that’s on her, not you.”

“Doesn’t matter.” I sighed, shoving the crumpled napkin into the trash under the table. “Curt will probably write me up for it anyway. He’s always looking for a reason.”

Mia rolled her eyes, which were expertly rimmed in gold eyeliner that matched the bells on her elf hat. “Curt can stuff it. He’s a jerk.”

I couldn’t argue with that. Curt Tadgerson, owner of the store and purveyor of all things insufferable, seemed to delight in making my life harder. If he wasn’t berating me for not smiling “elfishly enough,” he was blaming me for other things I couldn’t control—like kids spilling cocoa.

Mia tilted her head, studying me. “You okay? You look… I don’t know. Over it.”

“Over it is an understatement.” I adjusted the hem of my tunic again and leaned against the table. “But thanks for helping me get this job. I know it’s a disaster, but I do appreciate it. I needed the money.”

“And you’re great with the kids.”

“Am I?” I waved a hand toward the chaos in the grotto. “I’m pretty sure I’m making everything worse.”

Mia shrugged. “Then think of this as training. Maybe you’ll get a daycare job next.”

I snorted. “Not a chance. I’m still hoping to talk Siobhan into giving me another shot at the herbal shop.”

Mia’s lips twitched into a grin. “Okay, well, you’re not terrible with kids. And it’s temporary. Just a few more weeks, and then we can both go back to normal life. Whatever that is.”

“Normal” felt like a foreign concept. Between my dad’s cancer battle earlier in the year and my ex-boyfriend dumping me last Christmas day, my life had been a nonstop spiral of stress. This job was supposed to be a fresh start, but so far, it felt more like a cruel joke.

“Anyway,” Mia continued, shaking out a strand of lights, “I heard from one of the cashiers that Bob’s in a mood today. Be careful around him.”

“When isn’t he?” I muttered, dreading another run-in with Bob Mufflin, the man playing Santa Claus. He’d been nothing but rude since day one, barking orders like he thought he was the real deal. At least Mrs. Claus, played by Sassy Frassion, was decent. She had a flair for drama, sure, but she wasn’t outright mean. In fact, she had a motherly air about her, even though, under the makeup, she was younger than you’d think.

The line of kids waiting for Santa dwindled as the clock ticked toward the grotto’s half-hour break. I busied myself tidying the table and restocking cups, grateful for the lull.

“Azure!” Bob’s voice boomed across the grotto, and I cringed. “I’m taking my break early. You and Sassy keep these hooligans entertained while I…” He waved a hand dismissively and stomped off toward the dressing room.

“Charming,” I muttered, glancing at Mia. “And people wonder why I hate Christmas.”

She rolled her eyes but didn’t comment. Instead, she gestured toward the kids. “Guess you’d better keep them busy until Santa comes back. I’ll leave you to it.”

***

By the time my break rolled around, I was ready to sink into one of the rickety chairs in the break room and stay there for the rest of my shift. But as usual, there was no peace to be had at Tadgerson’s Department Store.

Bob Mufflin stormed through the employee door like a freight train two minutes after I got there, his fake Santa belly jiggling with every step. He yanked off his red cap and glared at me. “What do you think you’re doing, slacking off in here?”

“I’m on my break,” I said, trying not to snap. My nerves were already fried, and Bob’s booming voice wasn’t helping. “Why? What’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong?” His face turned a deeper shade of red. “The cocoa station is out of cups. Again! And there’s whipped cream all over the table. Nothing’s ready for the next shift of kids. Do I have to do everything myself around here?”

“I’ll take care of it,” I muttered, rising from the chair.

Bob huffed and stomped out, muttering under his breath about “lazy elves” as he went.

“Don’t let him get to you,” Mia said from across the room. She was perched on the edge of the counter, her long legs swinging slightly as she sipped from a travel mug. “He’s just mad because Sassy’s been stealing his spotlight with the kids.”

“Sassy?” I frowned, grabbing my own mug from the counter and taking a sip. The coffee was lukewarm like the cocoa, but I didn’t care. It would still serve its purpose as a caffeine delivery system. “What’s she doing?”

Mia grinned. “Apparently, she’s been ad-libbing during story time, throwing in these elaborate tales about the North Pole. The kids love it. Bob, not so much.”

I couldn’t help but smile at the thought. Sassy was a force of nature, her larger-than-life personality shining through even in her Mrs. Claus costume. If anyone could upstage Bob Mufflin, it was her.

The door creaked open, and Curt Tadgerson, the boss himself, stepped into the break room. The sight of him in his immaculate suit and perfectly coiffed hair was enough to make me stand a little straighter.

His gaze swept the dingy room, and he wrinkled his nose before focusing on me. “Azure.” His voice was as smooth as the marble floors in the store’s lobby. “A word?”

Mia shot me a sympathetic look as I followed Curt into the hallway. He led me to his office, a small but meticulously organized space that smelled faintly of leather and aftershave. He gestured for me to sit in the simple office chair across the table from him.

“Is something wrong?” My stomach twisted with anxiety.

Curt’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Nothing we can’t handle together. I just wanted to remind you of the importance of maintaining a positive image in the grotto. The children’s experience is paramount, and any negativity from the staff could reflect poorly on the store.”

I tilted my head, trying to read between the lines of his carefully measured tone. “What do you mean by negativity?”

His smile tightened, and he waved a hand dismissively, though the shift in his demeanor was unmistakable. “Oh, you know. Just the usual holiday stress. Customers can be demanding, and it’s important that everyone on staff stays cheerful and professional. We wouldn’t want... misunderstandings.”

Something about the way he emphasized that last word sent a ripple of unease through me, but I nodded anyway. “Of course. I’ll keep that in mind.”

“See that you do.” Curt leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers. “By the way, I’ve received some… feedback about your costume. Apparently, it’s a bit… snug.”

Heat rose to my cheeks. “That’s not my fault. It’s the costume Abigail left behind, and it doesn’t fit properly. I told you that when you assigned it to me.”

Curt waved as hand. “We’re all doing the best we can with what we have. Just make sure you’re presenting yourself appropriately. That’s all.”

I nodded tightly, biting back a retort. As much as I wanted to tell Curt exactly where he could shove his feedback, I needed this job too much to risk it.

“You’re dismissed,” Curt said, turning his attention to a short stack of papers on his desk.

I left the office, my jaw clenched so tightly it hurt. By the time I made it back to the grotto, the line of kids had grown, and Sassy was in full Mrs. Claus mode, just finishing up a tale about a mischievous reindeer named Twinkletoes.

“You’re back,” she said with a wink as I approached. “Good. These little trainer elves have been asking for more cocoa.”

I nodded and headed for the cocoa station, determined to focus on the task at hand and not let Curt or Bob ruin my day.

Time went fast until my next break, a haze of cocoa spills, sticky hands, and holiday chaos. I felt like a wrung-out dishcloth. As I trudged across the marble showroom floor, my elf shoes squeaked with every step, a final indignity to cap off a long day. When I slipped into the employee break room, letting the door click shut behind me, the quiet was a relief.

I opened my locker and pulled my cell phone out of my purse to find a text from my dad.

**Pizza tonight?**

With a grin, I shot one back to him. **Sounds perfect.**

Hearing from Dad always made my day instantly better. He’d been through a lot, but now he was cancer free and getting stronger.

After I’d eaten both the granola bar and apple I’d packed for a snack, I reluctantly left the break room and headed straight to the employee bathroom. When I came out again, Curt’s sharp voice rang its way to my ears from beyond the bathroom hall. “I don’t care if it’s inconvenient,” he barked. “You have a job to do, Bob!”

I froze, curiosity piqued. Sneaking over to where I could peek around the corner, I spotted Curt standing in the middle of the store, clipboard in hand, glaring at Bob Mufflin.

Bob, still in his Santa suit, crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m not some seasonal drone like the rest of them, Tadgerson. I’m a professional actor. I don’t need you breathing down my neck every five minutes!”

Curt’s jaw tightened, his eyes narrowing behind his rectangular glasses. “Professional or not, you signed a contract, and that means you’ll show up for your shifts, take your breaks on time, and stop leaving early!”

Bob smirked. “I signed a contract to play Santa, not to babysit half the city’s kids while you rake in profits from overpriced photos and hot chocolate.”

Curt’s face reddened, and he jabbed his clipboard in Bob’s direction. “Watch it, Mufflin. You’re replaceable.”

“Please,” Bob scoffed, brushing imaginary lint from his Santa sleeve. “You’re lucky to have me. Without me, this whole operation would fall apart.”

Their voices carried, drawing stares from nearby shoppers. Mia stepped up beside me, nervously twisting a strand of her hair. “What’s going on?”

“Not exactly sure, but I give it two minutes before one of them explodes,” I murmured.

Mia smirked but said nothing else as we settled in to watch the show.

Curt took a step closer to Bob, lowering his voice. I couldn’t make out the words, but whatever he said wiped the smug look off the actor’s face. Bob’s cheeks turned ruddy, and his gloved hands clenched into fists.

“You think you can talk to me like that?” Bob growled. “I’ll—”

“Take it up with HR,” Curt interrupted sharply. “Or you can pack up your beard and go.”

Bob’s glare could have melted the fake snow scattered across the store, but he didn’t argue further. Curt turned on his heel and strode off, his shoes sliding slightly on the polished marble floor. Over his shoulder, he chuckled and tossed his final words. “Oh, yeah. We don’t have an HR office.”

As soon as Curt disappeared, Bob’s gaze landed on Mia and me.

“What are you looking at?” Bob snapped, his voice dripping with condescension.

Mia stiffened but kept her tone polite. “Nothing, Mr. Mufflin. Wondering if you’re okay is all.”

“Don’t act like you care,” Bob sneered. “You’re just another one of Tadgerson’s little lackeys. And let me tell you something—your holiday ‘decorations’ are gaudy. Overdone. A real artist would know less is more.”

Mia blinked, stunned. Her lips parted, but no words came out. I knew what she was thinking—she loved her job decorating Tadgerson’s, especially during the holidays. To have someone say the place looked bad…it was like he’d said she had BO or something.

Anger flared in my chest, and I stepped between them, my tone firm. “Leave her alone, Bob. You’ve got enough problems without picking fights with people who are only trying to do their jobs.”

Bob’s eyes narrowed, but he didn’t respond. Instead, he turned on his heel and stomped off toward his dressing room, heavy black boots clomping loudly against the marble floor.

Mia exhaled sharply, her shoulders relaxing. “Thanks, Azure. I shouldn’t let him get to me, but sometimes…” She trailed off, shaking her head.

“You shouldn’t have to deal with him at all,” I said, shooting a glare at Bob’s retreating back. “You’re not even a part of Santa’s Grotto.” I gave her a quick side hug. “Don’t listen to him. He’s just a bully who thinks wearing a red suit makes him untouchable.”

Mia offered a small smile. “Yeah, well, if Santa’s supposed to know who’s naughty and nice, he’d better look in the mirror before checking that list.” She paused, then added with a smirk, “Although, with his attitude, I’m pretty sure he could get coal for Christmas and turn it into diamonds with the sheer pressure of his ego.”

I couldn’t help but laugh, shaking my head. “There’s my girl. Come on. Let’s get back to work before he gives us more reasons to hate this job.”

We parted ways at the grotto, and my stomach sank the moment I caught sight of the chaos inside. For half a second, I seriously considered turning around and leaving. Kids were running in every direction, their shrieks and giggles colliding in a cacophony that made me want to yank my elf ears down to muffle the noise. The energy level was off the charts, and it was clear no one was in control.

Barb, the other elf, was valiantly doing a jig in the middle of the madness, her movements exaggerated enough to hold the attention of about half the kids—though barely. Sassy, dressed to perfection as Mrs. Claus, was chasing after the rest, herding them into something that could generously be described as a line near Santa’s chair. The parents? Most of them stood off to the side, chatting in clusters or glued to their phones, only a handful stepping in to help wrestle their kids into submission.

I took a deep breath, squared my shoulders, and stepped forward. As much as I wanted to turn tail and run, I couldn’t leave Barb and Sassy to deal with this alone—especially since neither of them knew yet that Santa would be late.

I’d only just crossed into the fray when a blur of motion slammed into my leg. A little boy bounced off me like a rubber ball, landing hard on his backside.

“Whoa! Are you okay?” I crouched down, reaching for him.

He looked up at me with wide, tear-filled eyes, and then his face crumpled like a sheet of paper. The wail that followed was so piercing it made me flinch.

“Hey, hey,” I said quickly, leaning closer. “What’s wrong? Did you hurt yourself?”

“Ansel!” A man’s voice cut through the noise, and a moment later, he appeared at the boy’s side, scooping him up. “Are you okay? Did she knock you down?”

“What? No, I—”

He shot me a glare sharp enough to cut glass, then turned his attention back to Ansel, who was now sniffling dramatically into his dad’s jacket. Without another word, he stomped off, cradling the boy like he was made of glass.

I stayed frozen in place for a beat, too stunned to react. “Great,” I muttered under my breath. “Just great.”

The day was spiraling fast, and all I wanted was to go home, curl up with my cat, and pretend the outside world didn’t exist.

Then I heard it—a muffled thump, low but distinct, cutting through the background din of shrieks, chatter, and tinny holiday music. The sound came from the direction of Bob’s dressing room, and judging by the way Barb suddenly stopped mid-jig, I wasn’t the only one who noticed.

She frowned, glancing at me, her forehead creased with concern.

I nodded and started toward the dressing room, my heart picking up speed. When I reached the door, I knocked lightly. “Bob?”

No answer.

A chill crept up my spine, settling at the base of my neck. I knocked again, louder this time. “Bob? Everything okay in there?”

Silence.

The unease curled tighter in my chest as I reached for the doorknob. My fingers hesitated for just a moment before twisting it. The door swung open, and what I saw inside made the breath catch in my throat, and a feeling like I was choking made me push it out again in a strangled cough.

It took an instant to process the scene. A flash of red and white passed before my eyes, but it was on the floor. It wasn’t just Bob’s costume lying there—it was Bob, still wearing most of the suit, sprawled across the floor of the dressing room. His Santa hat had fallen off, and his head rested at an odd angle against the leg of a small chair. His face was pale, and his wide-open eyes stared blankly at the ceiling.

I froze, heart pounding so loudly in my ears that it drowned out the faint buzz of Christmas carols playing through the store’s speakers. For a moment, I thought he might be playing some kind of twisted joke—Bob Mufflin was enough of a jerk to fake a scene just to cause chaos—but the stiffness in his posture and the stillness of his chest told me otherwise.

“Bob?” My voice was barely above a whisper, my throat tight with the weight of dread.

Barb’s voice called from behind me. “Azure? What’s going on?”

I didn’t look back at her. Instead, I stepped closer to Bob, my stomach churning as the scents of peppermint and sweat mixed unpleasantly in the air. My foot nudged something on the floor—a small vial, the kind that would fit in the palm of my hand. Its label was smudged, and I couldn’t make out what it said, but there was a bit of something green and gooey looking inside.

“Call for help!” I said, louder this time, snapping out of my shock. “Get security or something! Bob has collapsed.”

Barb didn’t ask questions. She dashed off, and I could hear her urgent voice relaying the situation to someone. I crouched down next to Bob, careful not to touch anything, and reached for the pulse point on his neck. My fingers hovered there, not quite ready to confirm what my gut already knew.

“No pulse,” I whispered to myself, my stomach sinking further. I drew back, glancing around the room for any other clues as to what had happened. The sparkly contents of the vial glinted under the fluorescent light, catching my eye again. Beside it was a crumpled candy cane wrapper and the faint smear of sticky green stuff on the floor.

The scene was surreal, the jarring combination of Christmas cheer and cold reality colliding in my mind. I’d just been fantasizing about giving Bob a piece of my mind—or worse—and now here he was, lifeless on his dressing room floor.

Mia appeared at the doorway, her face pale. “What happened? Is he—?”

I nodded, my lips pressed tightly together, not trusting myself to speak. Her gaze flickered to the floor, taking in the vial and the scattered candy wrapper. Her eyes narrowed, and for a moment, I saw the gears turning in her mind.

“Azure,” she whispered, stepping closer. “Something’s not right here.”

“No kidding.” I tried to keep my voice steady, but it wavered. “I found him like this. I swear, I didn’t—”

“I know you didn’t,” Mia cut in, her voice firm. “But this…this isn’t normal. You don’t just keel over in the middle of your break unless—”

“Unless what?” I prompted, dread curling in my stomach like a coiled snake.

Her eyes darted to the vial. “Unless you have a heart attack or something…I…I guess.”

Before I could respond, the sound of hurried footsteps and voices grew louder. A security guard I didn’t know appeared in the doorway, followed by Curt Tadgerson, who looked pale but composed. His gaze swept the scene, lingering briefly on the vial before zooming in on me.

“What happened here?” Curt demanded.

“I found him like this,” I said, standing up and moving aside. “He didn’t answer when I knocked, so I opened the door.”

Curt’s expression was unreadable as he turned to the guard. “Call the police.”

“The police?” Mia echoed, her voice sharp. “Shouldn’t we call an ambulance first?”

Curt shot her a glance that was equal parts irritated and condescending. “I think it’s a little late for that.”

As the guard pulled out his radio to make the call, Curt turned back to me, his lips tightening into a thin line. “I’m going to need a full statement from you. And don’t think for a second this means you get paid overtime.”

I stared at him, incredulous. “You can’t be serious.”

“Dead serious,” he said, then winced as the words registered. “No pun intended.”

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