The Nanaimo bar Christmas Mystery: Anna Maple Cozy Mysteries, #1

By Jo-Ann Carson

If you're looking for an updated Miss Marple  with a Canadian flair, you'll enjoy this novella. Lots of Canadiana to go with the Vancouver Island location and recipes. Good pacing and light read. (Cass on BookSirens)
Retired nurse Anna Maple enrols in a Christmas baking workshop to revive her culinary skills, but when she finds Nanaimo's most meddlesome neighbor, Sally Evans dead, the cozy holiday setting unravels into something far more sinister. The news of Sally's demise quickly spreads through the small seaside town stirring rumors about the secrets the nosy woman collected. Could one of them have been so dark it led to her death?
The murder is too close to home for Anna's comfort, so she decides to hunt for the killer. As she delves into the mysteries lurking beneath the calm surface of her small seaside town, she fears she could become their next victim.
As Christmas approaches, Anna sets out on an unexpected quest for truth. Will the locals sing carols of joy and peace on earth? Or will another corpse lie at their feet on the not-so-silent night?

Take a festive journey to the small Canadian town of Nanaimo and join Ms. Maple as she uncovers a murderous mystery with no trace of gore, sex, or bad language in sight. Indulge in this suspenseful journey with a bonus: three delicious Nanaimo Bar recipes! 
Get your copy today and enjoy the wintery warmth of a cozy Christmas murder mystery.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jo-Ann Carson
• Release date: Feb 28, 2024
• ISBN: 9781989031582

Jo-Ann Carson

Jo-Ann Carson ~ paranormal mystery and romance ~ Reports of Jo-Ann Carson’s death on a Gulf Island are greatly exaggerated or, at the very least, premature. An award-winning fiction and non-fiction author, blogger and podcaster Jo-Ann loves to tinker with words. Her latest two series the Ghost & Abby Mysteries and the Gambling Ghosts feature eccentric characters, such as a Viking ghost with existential issues, a broken-hearted Highlander and a Casanova-man-witch. At the center of each tale is a strong woman trying to make sense of life and love.  A firm believer in the magic of our everyday lives, Jo-Ann loves watching sunrises and walking the beaches near her home in the Pacific Northwest. You can find her at her author website: http://www.jo-anncarson.com/. Blog/ Twitter/ Author FB/ Pod FB/ Pinterest/ Instagram / BookBub Page

Book preview

Introduction

The Nanaimo Bar Christmas Mystery

Ms. Maple Cozy Series, Book 1

~ a sweet & decadent murder topped in chocolate

Retired nurse Anna Maple enrols in a Christmas baking workshop to revive her culinary skills, but when she finds Sally Evans, Nanaimo’s most meddlesome neighbor, dead, the cozy holiday setting unravels into something far more sinister. As the news of Sally’s demise spreads, concerns arise about the secrets she collected. Could one of them have been so dark it led to her death? 

Feeling murder is too close to home for comfort, Anna hunts for the killer. As she delves into the mysteries lurking beneath the calm surface of her small, seaside town, she fears she could become the next victim. 

As Christmas approaches, Anna finds herself on an unexpected quest for truth. Will the locals sing carols of joy and peace on earth? Or will another corpse drop at their feet on a not-so-silent night?

Take a festive journey to the small Canadian town of Nanaimo and join Ms. Maple as she uncovers a murderous mystery with no trace of gore, sex, or coarse language. Indulge in this suspenseful journey with a bonus: three delicious Nanaimo Bar recipes!

Chapter 1

Love is a Mystery

T onight, Jean Claude will propose to me, and I will have everything I ever wanted. Anna rushed to meet him at the door. This will be my best Christmas ever.

Winston, her black miniature poodle, tilted his head.

Jean is everything I’ve ever dreamed of, she continued. Handsome, charming, and rich to boot. I know he’s not your favorite person, but you’ll grow to love him. Or at least stop peeing on his foot, she thought.

Winston groaned.

The moment Jean Claude stepped into the room; Anna’s heart stopped. He had a ruggedly handsome face with a powerful jaw, and denim-blue eyes to die for. How could such a debonair, silver-fox be interested in her, a sixty-year-old, retired nurse with grey hair, and a Buddha belly?

He held the door open for her. Shall we leave, my love? He spoke in perfect English with a slight French accent that melted her insides. The scent of his spicy aftershave embraced her, as she walked past him.

Outside, a cold December rainstorm blew in from the Pacific and battered their coastal town with relentless fury. She held her purse over her hair as they ran to his sports car and climbed in. When they got to the fancy restaurant, Jean Claude parked close to the door, but they still had a bit more of a walk to get the entrance. He opened a black umbrella and held it over the two of them as he ushered her out of the car. As they approached the entrance, a gust of wind blew the umbrella inside out, and a torrent of rain hit Anna’s two-hundred-dollar updo. She could taste hair spray dripping into her mouth.

So sorry, my darling, he whispered in her ear.

It’s just hair, she told herself, and she plastered a smile on her face. That’s when she felt the lashes on her left eye droop. Oh, good grief, how had they come loose?

Anna never wore falsies, but a couple hours ago her best friend Lucy talked her into them. Add some spice to your life, she had said. You’ll look glamorous, she said. Everyone wears them, she said, Even Oprah. The spicy bits of glamor now sagged so low they cut Anna’s vision in half.

She bit her bottom lip. Maybe they just needed a nudge to get them back into place.

The restaurant’s hostess, a slender young woman wearing a black dress led them to a small table covered in a linen tablecloth. In the middle sat a holiday centerpiece. Pinecones, strands of holly, and cedar greenery folded around a circular white candle that gave off a Christmas scent. There were twenty people sitting at tables around them. While rain pelted on the windowpanes and thunder rumbled in the distance, the room felt cozy.

The weight of her droopy eyelashes worried Anna. Lucy had poured a lot of glue on her eyelid. Surely, they wouldn’t fall off.

As Jean Claude picked up the wine list, she timidly, felt along her eyelid. The string of lashes felt loose on one side. Anna gave them a little tug, but they stayed in place.

She glanced up at Jean Claude hoping he didn’t notice her eye lash problem. He was busy studying the menu. Noticing a drop of water on his lapel, Anna leaned across the table to swipe at it. Halfway across the space her loose lashes fell off.

Anna’s breath caught in her throat as she watched her lashes descend like a skydiving spider into the puddle of liquid wax on the top of the candle. A knot formed in Anna’s stomach.

This couldn’t be happening. Not tonight! She watched in horror as the lashes appeared to be swimming in the molten wax. She reached for them. Her fingers burned. She bit back a cry and quickly pulled her hand back.

Jean Claude gazed at her. I am sorry about your hair getting wet, but you do still look quite lovely.

Anna smiled. Someday, after they were married, she would tell him about her lashes, and they would laugh about it together. But tonight, was all about things being perfect. The perfect beginning for their perfect life together.

I’m thinking champagne, Jean Claude said. Do you have a favorite?

You choose. She told herself to get a grip, but her fingertips hurt. And that was not part of her plan.

Jean Claude put down the wine list. Do you smell something funny?

No, lied Anna.

Something’s burning. He sniffed.

Anna shrugged. I’m sure they won’t serve it. She glanced down. Her lashes floated closer and closer into the flame.

It smells … He sniffed again. Like plastic. I hope there isn’t a fire in the kitchen. He stood. I should pull the alarm.

Anna grabbed his arm. I’m sure it’s fine, dear.

Hmm. Jean Claude folded his tall body back into the chair.

A heavy-set young man with a goatee, wearing an ill-fitting black suite, arrived at their table. Good evening. I’m Stanley, your server for tonight. After rambling off the evening specials, he took their orders, and left.

The bubbly came first. Jean Claude lifted his champagne glass to make a toast. Anna held her breath fully expecting this to be a wedding proposal, or at the very least a proclamation of his undying love for her.

Before he could say a word, a shot rang through the air, and a streak of lightning lit up the room. Anna gasped. She gazed around at the other patrons. Everyone looked shocked.

Sorry. Sorry, called Stanley from the other side of the room, with a sheepish grin. The bubbly is feisty tonight.

Could this be a bad omen? Anna tucked a wet strand of her hair behind her ear.

After a few chuckles, the warm murmur of friendly conversation returned to the room.

Jean Claude took a gulp of his champagne. Not bad, he said.

He gulped it! Anna closed her eyes to regain her composure. After a moment, she said, "I thought you were making a