There’s no problem Charlie Kingsley can’t solve with tea, but when it comes to love, she doesn’t do love potions. So when her client asks about poison instead, Charlie thought she was kidding, that is until her client’s husband turns up dead. Fans of Agatha Christie’s Miss Marple Series will devour The Murder Before Christmas by Michele Pariza Wacek, a fun, twisty cozy mystery.
I hadn't quite figured it out myself, but was doing my best to sound more confident than I felt. The longer I sat there, the more convinced I was that it was a huge mistake. But at that point, it would have been even worse if I’d left, so I had to brazen my way through it. "She's my client," I said, which was true. She had bought some tea from me. Once. "And you've seen her condition."
Wyle's eyebrows went up. "Condition? You mean her pregnancy?"
"Exactly. Stress isn't good for mothers-to-be. Well, stress isn't good for any of us, but it's especially not good when you're pregnant. And she's already dealing with the stress of losing her husband ..."
"Who she likely poisoned," Wyle said.
Now it was my turn to raise eyebrows. "Are you saying she's a suspect?"
More squeaking as he moved again. We were sitting by his desk, which was tucked away in the corner of the police station. The room was too hot—Wyle had mentioned there was something wrong with the heater—but the combination of the heat, cigarette smoke, and the burnt-coffee-old-sweat odor made my stomach turn. Even though we weren't alone, no one appeared to be paying any attention to us. The constant collective noise of the phone ringing, typewriters clacking, and people talking filled the space. "Oh come on, Charlie. You're smarter than this. Everyone is a suspect in the beginning. Heck, you even made the list."
I was aghast. "Me?"
"Yes, you. Don't you think it's pretty suspicious you're even in here?"
"I never even met Dennis," I said.
"You don't need to meet the guy to sell his wife some poison."
"I don't sell poison," I said firmly, deciding I would definitely not be mentioning Courtney's request for something to kill her husband to Wyle. "I sell teas and tinctures."
If you've got a problem, Charlie Kingsley probably has a tea that’ll help make it right.
EXCEPT when it comes to love. She does NOT do love potions.
Not even for Courtney, her pregnant new client who showed up three weeks before Christmas seeking a love potion because her husband was cheating on her.
So, Courtney asked about poison, instead.
She said she was joking That's what happens between wives and husbands. They get angry and talk about killing each other. They don't really mean it.
It seems to make sense ... until Courtney’s husband turns up dead on Christmas Eve.
He was poisoned, of course.
And who is the number one suspect? Courtney. Of course.
But did she actually do it? Or is she being set up?
It's up to Charlie to sort through all the twists and turns in a case that gets more complicated the deeper she digs.
Meet Charlie. Better known as “Aunt Charlie” from the award-winning Secrets of Redemption series. She's back, making teas and solving cases in this quirky, twisty, cozy mystery series set in the 1990s in Redemption, Wisconsin.
Excerpt
Copyright 2021 Michele Pariza Wacek
"Why are you here again?" Officer Brandon Wyle asked me, his chair squeaking as he shifted his lean, lanky figure into a more comfortable position. His dark hair was longer than he normally wore it, curling around his collar and into curtain bangs that he absentmindedly brushed off his forehead. I found myself wondering if this was a new hairstyle, or if he kept forgetting to make an appointment with a stylist. His expression was carefully blank, but his dark eyes didn't miss a thing.I hadn't quite figured it out myself, but was doing my best to sound more confident than I felt. The longer I sat there, the more convinced I was that it was a huge mistake. But at that point, it would have been even worse if I’d left, so I had to brazen my way through it. "She's my client," I said, which was true. She had bought some tea from me. Once. "And you've seen her condition."
Wyle's eyebrows went up. "Condition? You mean her pregnancy?"
"Exactly. Stress isn't good for mothers-to-be. Well, stress isn't good for any of us, but it's especially not good when you're pregnant. And she's already dealing with the stress of losing her husband ..."
"Who she likely poisoned," Wyle said.
Now it was my turn to raise eyebrows. "Are you saying she's a suspect?"
More squeaking as he moved again. We were sitting by his desk, which was tucked away in the corner of the police station. The room was too hot—Wyle had mentioned there was something wrong with the heater—but the combination of the heat, cigarette smoke, and the burnt-coffee-old-sweat odor made my stomach turn. Even though we weren't alone, no one appeared to be paying any attention to us. The constant collective noise of the phone ringing, typewriters clacking, and people talking filled the space. "Oh come on, Charlie. You're smarter than this. Everyone is a suspect in the beginning. Heck, you even made the list."
I was aghast. "Me?"
"Yes, you. Don't you think it's pretty suspicious you're even in here?"
"I never even met Dennis," I said.
"You don't need to meet the guy to sell his wife some poison."
"I don't sell poison," I said firmly, deciding I would definitely not be mentioning Courtney's request for something to kill her husband to Wyle. "I sell teas and tinctures."
"Uh huh." Wyle tapped his pen on his notebook, which was balanced precariously on top of a stack of paperwork. His eyes continued to study me.
About Michele Pariza Wacek
When Michele was 3 years old, she taught herself to read because she wanted to write stories so badly. It took some time (and some detours) but she does spend much of her time writing stories now. Mystery stories to be exact, ranging from psychological thrillers to cozies, with a dash of romance and supernatural thrown into the mix. If that wasn't enough, she also hosts a virtual book club you can check out and join (for free!) at MPWNovels.com.
Michele holds a double major in English and Communications from the University of Wisconsin-Madison. Currently she lives in the mountains of Prescott, Arizona with her husband Paul and southern squirrel hunter Cassie.
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