Christmas Fudge Fatality

By Addison Moore

A baker who sees the dead. One too many suitors. And a killer. Living in Honey Hollow can be murder.
MURDER IN THE MIX Cozy Mystery Christmas Special

A laugh out loud standalone cozy mystery by New York Times Bestseller Addison Moore ***Includes RECIPE***

My name is Lottie Lemon, and I see dead people. Okay, so I rarely see dead people, mostly I see furry creatures of the dearly departed variety, who have come back from the other side to warn me of their previous owner's impending doom.

The holidays have arrived, and the Jolly Holly Tree Lot is hosting a special event that has pets and people alike bustling to get a picture with the jolly old elf himself. My sweet cats are just as anxious as I am to get to the front of the line, but that body I stumble upon threatens to take the joy right out of the season. 

Lottie Lemon has a brand new bakery to tend to, a budding romance with perhaps one too many suitors, and she has the supernatural ability to see the dead—which are always harbingers for ominous things to come. Throw in a string of murders, and her insatiable thirst for justice, and you'll have more chaos than you know what to do with.

Living in the small town of Honey Hollow can be murder.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Addison Moore
• Release date: Dec 8, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223161004

Addison Moore

Addison Moore is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of contemporary and paranormal romance. Previously she worked as a therapist on a locked psychiatric unit for nearly a decade. She lives with her family on the West Coast. Learn more: addisonmoorewrites.blogspot.com.

Book preview

Chapter 1

My name is Lottie Lemon, and I see dead people. Okay, so rarely do I see dead people. Mostly I see furry creatures of the dearly departed variety who have come back from the other side to warn me of their previous owner’s impending doom. But right now I’m not seeing a dead anything. In fact, the entire Jolly Holly Tree Lot is brimming with people and pets alike, anxious to get a picture with the jolly old elf himself.

It’s just the beginning of December, and already we’ve had our fair share of snow flurries. All of Honey Hollow is covered in thick vats of downy soft powder—heck, all of Vermont is a virtual winter wonderland.

Lottie, let me hold one of them for you, Everett, my good friend, offers as he takes one of my sweet cats from my arms.

Oh, wait. Take Waffles instead, I say as I quickly do a switcheroo with him. Pancake likes to cling to me a bit more whenever we leave the house.

Both Pancake and Waffles are off-white fuzzy Himalayan cats with gorgeous silver-blue eyes and rust-tipped tails—and best of all, they also happen to be brothers.

The thick scent of familiar cologne permeates the area, and before I know it, Detective Noah Fox is standing next to me shedding that dimple-laden smile.

Noah! I offer up a spontaneous hug. Glad you could make it.

Not a problem. He pulls back and scowls over at Everett. Judge Baxter.

It’s true. Everett Essex Baxter is indeed a judge down at the Ashford County Courthouse. And even though Noah and Everett are both on the right side of the law, they don’t seem to get along all that great. About a million years ago, when they were in high school, Noah’s father was married to Everett’s mother and quickly hightailed it out of town with as much of her money that he could get his paws on.

But when you get down to brass tacks, that didn’t affect their friendship as much as the fact that Noah saw fit to swipe Everett’s girlfriend away from him at the time. And now, I seem to be the next girlfriend hurdle in their path.

Both Everett and Noah have made their feelings clear. They’re both interested in me, and sadly, I’m interested in both of them as well.

I know—I know. It sounds terribly wrong. That’s because it is. I need to pick a lane. But I don’t know which lane I prefer just yet.

Everett offers a mock bow. Noah, I see you’re still stalking Lemon proficiently.

Lemon isn’t just my surname. It’s the cute moniker Everett insists on tagging me with, and I don’t mind a bit.

I can’t help but roll my eyes at his statement, though. Nobody is stalking me. I invited you both out here tonight. I thought it would be fun. I give Everett’s shoulders a playful bump with my own. I mean, look at the bustling crowd of people all giddy to be here, bundled in their winter coats and sipping hot cocoa. Not to mention the size of that line to sit on Santa’s lap.

Everett grunts, I’ve got a red suit at home. If we hightail it off to my place, you could be on my lap before you know it.

I can’t help but chuckle at the bawdy proposal. However, Noah gives an audible groan at the idea.

Hand Waffles over. Noah gingerly takes Waffles from him and the cute kitty nuzzles right up against Noah’s shoulder. See there? He sways as if he were rocking a baby. He likes me better.

Everett’s lips twitch, but he’s too stubborn to give a smile. The boys have always liked you better.

All right, I say. Enough, you two. Let’s get in that line to see Santa before all of Honey Hollow shows up.

And we do just that. Although, it doesn’t feel as if we moved all that far from the parking lot—the line is just that long.

Snow is lightly dusting the ground, and the Jolly Holly Tree Lot is nearly filled to capacity with people bundled in their winter parkas. There’s a giant red banner strewn across the opening of the circus-like tent that reads Take a picture with Santa! All pets and people welcome!

And you can bet your bottom dollar that the fine people of Honey Hollow have taken this to heart. There are just as many tiny tots present this evening as there are fur babies. And among the animals, there seems to be an even split between cats and dogs. I’m pretty sure I even see a ferret in someone’s arms up ahead.

I’m not entirely certain if owning a ferret is legal in Vermont, but it’s Christmastime and I don’t care about anything else but this glorious holiday season.

You might say that things are finally going right for me. My bakery is taking off like never before with as many holiday orders that I can handle, and my love life is starting to take shape, too. I’ll admit, it’s not such a bad thing to have two handsome men warring for my affection.

I’ve known both Noah and Everett for some time now, and I’ve grown close to both of them.

Noah is a sweet, albeit aggressively handsome, homicide detective with dark hair that turns red in the sun and deep-welled dimples—not to mention he seems to have the ability to make me laugh whenever he’s around.

Everett is smolderingly good-looking—almost unfairly so with that jet-black hair and stunning cobalt blue eyes. In fact, he’s been dubbed Mr. Sexy by the baristas the world over. It’s sort of a play on his formal first moniker, Essex. But for whatever reason, he prefers people call him by his middle name, Everett.

The only people who seem to freely call him Essex are the multitude of women that he’s done the mattress mambo with. I guess you could say they acquire his first name as sort of a door prize.

Regardless, both men have the ability to cause any woman with a pulse to crane their necks in their direction. Suffice it to say, we’re causing quite the scene at the moment with the female population without even trying.

"Lottie, a female voice calls out from my left and I turn to see Tamara Gray, a petite brunette about my age, waving from the makeshift concession stand. Your chocolate fudge is to die for!" She holds up a small bag of my delectable delights.

The Jolly Holly Tree Lot asked my bakery, the Cutie Pie Bakery and Cakery, to stock their concession stand and I was more than happy to fill the order.

Glad you like it! I added extra pecans to this batch! I give a friendly wave back just as she heads over to a group of friends.

Poor thing, I whisper to Everett and Noah as we scoot up in line a smidge. "She and