Sweet Revenge: Cocoa Narel Chocolate Shop Mysteries, #1

By Morgana Best

When a car accident leads to extensive plastic surgery and an inability to gain weight, Cocoa Narel finds herself transformed from an ugly duckling into a beautiful swan. 
No longer forced to temper her love for chocolate, Cocoa plans to open a candy store and begins to enjoy the sweet life along with her quirky rescue cat. But when her high school bullies start being murdered one by one, Cocoa becomes the prime suspect. 
Can she clear her name, or does the true culprit have a few Twix up their sleeve?

Book 1 in the Cocoa Narel Chocolate Shop Mysteries, a fun cozy mystery series from USA Today Bestselling author, Morgana Best.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Best Cosy Books
• Release date: Aug 22, 2020
• ISBN: 9781925674262

Morgana Best

After surviving a childhood of deadly spiders and venomous snakes in the Australian outback, bestselling author Morgana Best writes cozy mysteries and enjoys thinking of delightful new ways to murder her victims.

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

The bright hospital lights had been overbearing when I had first woken up, but I had soon become accustomed to them. I had been lying there for months—all it did any more was make me want to go home that much more. I was lucky to be in one piece. Well, mostly in one piece. I hadn’t lost any important pieces, and they had been able to fix me up completely. As a matter of fact, I looked better than I had before. Much better.

The other driver had been drinking, of course. I had swerved too late to avoid him. They say never to swerve if something’s on the road, but I hadn’t known how to approach that advice when that something was another (bigger) car. I lost consciousness as soon as we collided, which was probably a blessing, since I hadn’t exactly been in good shape.

My first memory afterwards was being wheeled into the hospital. I heard a man’s voice say, She’s going to need a much bigger stretcher, before bursting into loud raucous laughter. If I hadn’t been fading in and out of consciousness—and at death’s door—I would’ve told him what I’d thought of him.

I was used to it, but insults like that never stopped hurting. Looking down at myself in that hospital bed, though, I realised that the car accident had been a sort of blessing in disguise. I’d been in intensive care for weeks, and I’d had extensive surgeries to keep me alive. All of this resulted in massive weight loss. I looked better than ever, although at the cost of not being able to move for weeks and nearly dying. It wasn’t a weight-loss regime I could recommend.

The last months were a kind of painful blur, although I’d mostly managed to piece together a time frame. After I’d been hit, I had been entirely unconscious for a few weeks in a medically induced coma. Afterwards, I was a mess, both physically and emotionally. The accident had caused severe damage to my entire body, including my face. I had thought at the time that my life was essentially over, but the doctors had offered me something I hadn’t considered at the time—plastic surgery to reconstruct my face. I’d taken them up on the offer before they’d even finished explaining the risks.

Thank goodness Australia has free medical care—that is, if you don’t have medical insurance. A weird paradox, I know, but this time, the system worked in my favour. If I had to pay for all this… well, it just wasn’t worth thinking about.

I was ready to head home. I could now move freely after extensive physical therapy, and I’d actually been allowed to move about the hospital a little bit. The doctors had encouraged it in order to keep my muscles strong, and it was good to move around. More than anything, though, I had to get used to my new self. I felt—and was—lighter than ever, and while I wasn’t in great condition, it was the best I’d ever felt about myself.

It had been hard growing up. I had been heavy for as long as I could remember, and of course I was teased and bullied relentlessly. What teenager in my place wouldn’t have been? I’d often come home from high school crying and had to lock myself away. Life had improved considerably since high school, as most lives do, but it had affected my life deeply, and my confidence was more than a little shot.

I sighed as I found myself flicking between channels on my little box television, thinking they must only be made for hospitals any more. I dropped the remote on the bedside table, surrendering to boredom and waiting for the all-clear to head home. After a few minutes, the door swung open as Dr Bradford entered. He was the cliché doctor: middle-aged, white, male, well-groomed greying hair. Today he was wearing casual clothes for some reason, which sort of broke my fantasy of this man living in a real-life medical soap opera.

Hello, Miss Myers. He greeted me with his regular neutral tone and expression. How are we feeling today?

I don’t know about you, but I’m fine, thanks, I replied. After spending months in the hospital, I was annoyed about everyone asking me how ‘we’ were. "Are there any updates? I can go home today, can’t I?" I added in desperation.

Yes, you can. He gave me a small smile as he said it, but I could’ve kissed him. I couldn’t wait to get out. Have you called someone to collect you?

Yes! My best friend, Carl Camden. Thank you. I hadn’t felt so happy in as long as I could remember. I obviously appreciated the hospital and everything they’d done, but I was more than a little sick—no pun intended—of being cooped up in there.

Now, before you leave, there is a very important matter we must discuss. His expression turned grim. Mrs Myers…

Ms, I corrected him.

"Excuse me, Ms Myers. I’m afraid there’s an effect of your condition that you might not be aware of."

My heart sank and I gritted my teeth. Was it going to prove fatal? How bad was it?

He continued in a dreadfully solemn tone. I’m afraid that after your accident, we had to do numerous amounts of quite invasive surgery, as you’re only too well aware. He gulped. I’ll just cut straight to the point. Narel, I’m so sorry to have to tell you this, but you’re now medically unable to gain any weight.

It took me at least a full minute to stop myself laughing. At several points Dr Bradford had looked like he was going to try to sedate me forcefully, but patiently waited it out. By the time I’d calmed down, he was wearing a unique expression—a combination of boredom, shock, and worry.

Ms Myers, are you okay?

Between short giggles I managed an answer. I’m great, Bradford, you beautiful man.

He didn’t seem to take this as the compliment I intended. I’m going to recommend a very skilled therapist. He wrote some information on the back of a card before handing it to me. I implore you to see her with the utmost urgency.

Sure, I said. I was only half listening. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been this happy.

CHAPTER 2

Carl was late, as usual. He was my best friend, but like anyone, he wasn’t without his annoying habits, and being late was his worst. Yet despite my impatience to get home, I didn’t mind.

Carl was doing me a huge favour by collecting me from the hospital, and I was honestly a little bit nervous to see him. I had of course told him about my plastic surgery procedures and subsequent transformation, but I couldn’t imagine that Carl would really understand until he laid eyes on me. The last time he had visited me, my face had been swollen and red after the final plastic surgery procedure. That was the trouble with our town being an eight hour drive from the hospital in Sydney.

Plus, I was too happy with the strange new twist in my life to worry any more. Any heavy-set person can tell you that maintaining a slim figure is every bit as difficult as getting one in the first place, if not more so, and yet the universe had seen fit to drop a near-magical solution in my lap. I was, of course, worried about possible medical implications, but to tell the truth, I was way too distracted with the positive side to care much at all.

Dr Bradford decided to pay me another quick visit before I left, to tell me yet again that I was now medically unable to become overweight. He seemed highly concerned about the fact. I had been eating healthily lately, if you could call hospital food healthy, and that was something I wanted to maintain. The doctor, for some bizarre reason I didn’t understand, thought I’d be upset about staying skinny forever. He was equally distressed that people wouldn’t recognise me, due to the extensive plastic surgery on my face. Hadn’t the man ever seen one of those makeover shows? He was the one who needed therapy, not me!

Just as he was explaining it all for what seemed like the fifth time, Carl walked through the door. He was well-dressed, as always, with beautiful hair and immaculate fashion sense. As soon as he saw me, his jaw dropped so far I thought he might need to be admitted to the hospital. Narel, is that really you?

I smiled widely at him. Yep.

No way! He ran over and hugged me tightly—uncomfortably tightly—but thankfully decided to let go in time for me to start breathing again.

You must be Carl Camden. Doctor Bradford extended a hand.

Carl took it and replied, I sure am, handsome.

Bradford didn’t seem to know how to respond, and I held back a snigger. At least Bradford didn’t react poorly or seem overly-uncomfortable. Carl could be a bit too straightforward sometimes, and more often than not it would land him in a bit of trouble. Still, it would help if he’d release the doctor’s hand.

Here you go. Carl finally did release the doctor’s hand, and threw me a plastic bag. It’s clothes! he said gleefully. Carl loved clothes. I know you told me your new size, but of course I didn’t believe you, so there’s some of your old stuff in there, too.

Thanks so much, Carl. I looked inside happily. It was no surprise to see he’d chosen a fantastic ensemble of clothes. I noticed that not only were my old clothes indeed in there, but that he’d actually brought along several new pieces of clothing, not just the one outfit. I’ll get changed and be right back. I all but ran to the bathroom. I couldn’t wait to get out of this stupid hospital gown.

I didn’t go back to the room for a long time, and it occurred to me that Carl and Bradford were probably a bit worried. I couldn’t help it, though. I was much too busy crying. I’d been fine trying on the new clothes Carl had brought me—he really did have a talent for choosing nice things—but then I decided to try on my old stuff. It wasn’t even close to fitting, no more than a parachute canopy would have been, and the whole thing had me overwhelmed with emotion.

I sat in the tiny bathroom and cried for what felt like much too long. I didn’t even know what emotion I was feeling, but it didn’t seem as simple as sadness or joy. I was happy with what had happened, or I thought I was, but it had made such a big difference that I didn’t really know how to react to everything.

After a while, I managed to compose myself and head back to the room where Carl was patiently waiting. Bradford was gone, which was no surprise. If one of the doctors of the hospital had been waiting here this whole time, I would have had concerns.

How are you doing? Carl asked. He was sitting on my hospital bed when I walked in, but stood up and walked over to me when I entered. He must’ve known that it would be a strange experience for me, and I thought that maybe Bradford had warned him.

I’m okay, thanks, but it’s just all so overwhelming. It’s weird that I don’t recognise myself in the mirrors anymore. That’s a good thing, but still… Anyway, I’m looking forward to getting home. I smiled happily, a smile Carl returned.

Well, let’s get going! I wanted to pick you up and walk out holding you, because I wanted to be the first person to do that, but Brad told me I probably shouldn’t until you’ve had a chance to recover.

I laughed. Brad? I didn’t realise the two of you were so comfortable. Besides, I think I’d want a man I’m interested in romantically to be the first, if you don’t mind.

Carl put his hand on his chest and feigned a hurt look. Narel, how could you? I thought we had something special.

We do! I hugged him. Thanks again for coming to collect me. Now take me home! I demanded, only half jokingly. Carl smiled warmly and opened the door for me. I hurried through, eager to escape from the hospital.

Checking out didn’t take long. At least, not out of the hospital. Carl decided he’d spend quite a while checking out some of the staff, much to my embarrassment. Carl, I get that you’ve been single for a while, but I’d really like to get home, I said sternly. He frowned at me, but obliged.

I practically ran to his car and had to wait for him to catch up. He jogged after me, looking perturbed. Your home isn’t going anywhere, Narel.

At this rate, neither are we. Come on! I was so excited I realised I was doing a sort of dance on the spot. Carl sighed and unlocked the car, so I jumped straight in and sat impatiently. Carl took his sweet time—apparently getting his revenge by annoying me on purpose—but eventually opened his door and slowly sat inside. Now, where are my keys? he asked rhetorically, fumbling around his pockets for what seemed to be several minutes.

Oh, come on! Did you seriously lose them? My mouth dropped open. I really did appreciate him coming to collect me, but it was hard to not to be annoyed when I was so eager to get out of here. I’ll go look for them. Maybe you left them at the front desk.

I undid my seatbelt and got out of the car. I was halfway out of the car park when I heard him yell. I’ve found them, Narel! They were in my pocket.

It wasn’t until I was back in the car that I realised he’d needed them to locked the car in the first place. Oh, why’d you do that? I huffed grumpily. I really want to leave!

Carl laughed, feigning innocence. I know, but you’re being very annoying, so I thought you deserved it. He shrugged and started the car. I supposed he was right, but it was still hard to resist the urge to punch him.

It was a long drive home. After the crash I’d been taken to my local hospital immediately, but they weren’t able to treat me properly there given the extent of my injuries, so I’d been transferred by the Westpac Rescue Helicopter to Sydney. That was one of the reasons Carl had to collect me in the first place.

I found it difficult to be back in a car. When I had first climbed in the car, it felt natural, but now that we were back on the freeway, I was nervous.

I knew it was silly. Sure, I’d been in a serious crash, but it was still a one-off occurrence. I wasn’t any