{"product_id":"hark-the-herald-angels-slay-isbn-9780425280829","title":"Hark the Herald Angels Slay","description":"\u003cb\u003eSanta’s summer vacation plans turn deadly in this festive mystery from the author of \u003ci\u003eRest Ye Murdered Gentlemen\u003c\/i\u003e and \u003ci\u003eWe Wish You a Murderous Christmas\u003c\/i\u003e.\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe town of Rudolph, New York, has the Christmas spirit all year long—but when homicide heats up a summer holiday, it’s up to shop owner Merry Wilkinson to wrap up the case.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eIn Rudolph, Christmas in July heralds Santa’s arrival by boat to begin his summer vacation at the lake, and Merry Wilkinson, owner of Mrs. Claus’s Treasures, is looking forward to a busy weekend. But she’s caught off guard when her ex-fiancé, Max Folger, unexpectedly arrives with a team from a lifestyle magazine wanting to do a feature on the July festivities.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eIt’s clear that Max’s visit has less to do with business and more to do with winning back Merry’s heart. Merry has too much on her plate to deal with an old flame, but when Max is found strangled to death in Mrs. Claus’s Treasures, she must find out who wanted him dead—and stop a killer from ruining the summer holiday cheer.\u003cb\u003ePraise for \u003ci\u003eRest Ye Murdered Gentlemen\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e “Delightful…[A] humorous tinsel-covered tale that made me laugh out loud even while keeping me guessing.”—Jenn McKinlay, \u003ci\u003eNew York Times \u003c\/i\u003ebestselling author\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e “Witty writing, an unexpected solution, and truly likable characters ensure that the appeal of this holiday-themed series will last long past the Yule season.”—Kings River Life Magazine\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e “Delany has given us a story full of holiday cheer, an exciting mystery, wondrous characters all in a place I would love to really visit. Its charm just lit up my day. This is one mystery you shouldn’t miss this holiday season.”—Escape with Dollycas into a Good Book\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e “I delved right into this story—it grabbed me in and wouldn’t let me go.”—Socrates’ Book Review\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e “Vicki Delany does a masterful job of creating an inviting fictional small town that is all about Christmas.”—Open Book Society\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e “Ms. Delany has started a promising new series with \u003ci\u003eRest Ye Murdered Gentlemen\u003c\/i\u003e.”—Fresh Fiction\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e “A fun Yuletide-themed cozy with an appealing amateur sleuth.”—\u003ci\u003eLibrary Journal\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cb\u003eVicki Delany\u003c\/b\u003e is the national bestselling author of the Year-Round Christmas Mysteries, the Constable Molly Smith Novels, the Sherlock Holmes Bookshop Mysteries, and, writing as Eva Gates, the Lighthouse Library Mysteries.Chapter 1\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e In Rudolph, New York, we love Christmas so much, we celebrate it      twice a year.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Christmas in July. A time to be silly, enjoy our brief hot summer,      have some fun. And attract tourists to our town, of course.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e I was in the back room of my shop, Mrs. Claus's Treasures,      surrounded by boxes, studying my costume. My Mrs. Claus getup      consisted of an ankle-length wool skirt, long-sleeved checked      blouse worn under a knitted sweater-vest bearing a decorated      Christmas tree design, plain glass spectacles, and a cap with gray      curls attached. The forecast for the weekend was for temperatures      reaching into the high eighties, and it would be even hotter,      taking humidity into account.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Dressed in that outfit, standing in the sun, I might well melt.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e I briefly considered going for a seductive Mrs. Claus look, but      decided against that for two reasons. I don't do seductive, and      Santa is played by none other than my own father.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Merry!\" Jackie, the shop assistant, called. \"Someone here to see      you.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Back to work we go,\" I said to Matterhorn, my ten-month-old Saint      Bernard.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e I put the costume back on its hanger, left the storage room, and      shooed Mattie into my office. He gave me a mournful, pleading      look, as if to say, No! Not the office! Anything but the office,      before doing as he was told. \"You are such a ham,\" I said, heading      to the front of the shop. I'd have to decide soon what I was going      to wear. Today was Thursday and the big weekend was coming up      fast.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e I expected the caller would be a salesperson waiting to introduce      me to their line of goods that I couldn't possibly live without.      But it wasn't.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e I stopped dead in the curtained doorway separating the private      areas at the rear of the building from the salesrooms. A man stood      at the counter with his back to me. Jackie was behind the cash      register, smiling broadly at him, head cocked to one side, her      light laugh filling the air.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e He didn't have to turn around. I knew that stance, the broad      shoulders, the slim hips, the long legs, the short dark hair. I      started to back away, to run through the storage room, out the      back door into the alley, and keep on running, but before I could      move Jackie said, \"There she is,\" and he turned. I also knew the      high cheekbones, the straight white teeth, the eyes so dark they      were almost black, the long lashes, the trace of black stubble on      the strong jaw. Jackie widened her eyes, fanned her face, and her      mouth formed the word \"Wow!\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Hello, Merry,\" he said.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Mmmm.\" I cleared my throat, feeling a wave of heat as color      rushed into my face. \"Max.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Even Jackie could sense the tension in the air, and she dropped      her comic expression to stare at us. Unfortunately, at this moment      the shop was empty of customers. There was nothing to distract      Jackie's attention or provide me with something I could pretend      was in desperate need of my services.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e He kept his eyes, those gorgeous black eyes under lashes so long      and thick they could be used to string tennis rackets, fixed on my      face. \"Your shop's very nice, Merry. You have lots of great      things. You must be doing well.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Well enough.\" I struggled to find my voice. \"Can I help you find      something, Max?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Actually, Merry, you can. I've lost something very precious, and      I've come here to get it back.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"I'd be happy to do what I can. What are you looking for?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"The love of my life,\" he said.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Jackie gasped. I threw her a look over Max's shoulder. Her eyes      threatened to pop right out of her head. She pointed to Max, did      the fanning-the-face thing again, and then she pointed at me and      mouthed \"Wow!\" again.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e I tried to ignore her. \"Max, why are you here?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"I wanted to see you again, Merry. To talk. But\"-he turned toward      Jackie-\"as charming as your helper here is, I'd like to go      someplace private.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e I had a death grip on the curtain. \"My office is . . .\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Not in your office. How about we have dinner tonight? The place      across the street looks okay. I'll make a reservation for seven.      Shall I pick you up or meet you there?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"I'll meet you. I mean . . . I don't want to have dinner with you,      Max.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Sure you do,\" he said. \"Seven o'clock it is.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e The chimes over the door sounded as the door opened and a woman      came in. \"There you are. Why aren't you answering your phone?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Max gave me another long look before turning to face the newcomer.      \"I'm on a break.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"No time for breaks. Isn't that what you always say, Max? Breaks      are for losers.\" She looked past him for the first time. Her eyes      were about to flick over me, but then she did a double take.      \"Merry, is that you?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Willow?\" I said. \"Good heavens, Willow, what are you doing here?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e She crossed the room, arms outstretched. Max stepped aside, and      Willow Rasmon enveloped me in a light hug accompanied by a kiss on      the cheek that was more of a peck at the air. At five foot eleven      and wearing her customary four-inch stilettos, Willow had to just      about fold herself in half to reach me. \"Max Folger, you are a      naughty boy.\" She waved a bloodred nail at the end of a long      finger. \"Getting us to come here under a false pretext so you      could see Merry.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Nothing false about it,\" he said. \"It's still a great story.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Will one of you tell me what's going on?\" I said.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"It was all Max's idea,\" Willow said, \"and for once I have to      admit it's a good one. We're going to do a feature on Christmas in      July for the new travel section of the magazine. And what better      place to celebrate Christmas than America's top year-round      Christmas destination.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Jackie squealed. \"You're from Jennifer's Lifestyle! Oh my gosh. I      love that magazine. My mom has a subscription, and she gives me      her copy every month when she's finished with it.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"How nice,\" Willow drawled.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Jackie ran around the counter and almost jumped up and down in      front of Willow. \"I can help you. I've lived here all my life. I      know everyone!\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Willow peered down her long nose. \"Goodness, I wouldn't have      recognized you for a small-town girl.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Jackie beamed. I threw Willow a glare. Now I remembered: beneath      the air-kissy faade Willow was nothing but a ruthlessly      ambitious, stuck-up Manhattan snob.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Max laughed, and I glared at him, too.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Willow's oversized Michael Kors bag trilled, and she dug into a      side pocket for her phone. At least she'd given up wearing one of      those ridiculous earpieces that made people look as though they      were about to be assimilated into the Borg Collective. \"We're at      Mrs. Claus's Treasures. Across the street from the library.\" She      hung up and put the phone away.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Who was that?\" I asked.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Our photographer,\" Willow said. \"He's been scouting out vantage      points around town.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Jackie squealed again. I felt the air move as she ran past us      heading for the back rooms.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Is someone going to tell me what's going on?\" I said. \"Or do I      have to guess.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Guess away, Merry,\" Max said. \"It shouldn't be too hard.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e The door opened once again and a man came in. He wore a beige,      multi-pocketed vest of the sort last seen in the pages of National      Geographic, carried a large bag, and had a long-lensed black Nikon      slung over his shoulder. \"This is going to be rich,\" he said. \"I      don't know what to shoot first.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Jason Kerr, meet Merry Wilkinson,\" Willow said. \"I don't think      Jason did any work for us in your day, Merry.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e He grinned at me. \"I've heard a lot about you, when we were      getting ready for this trip. You left big shoes to fill when you      quit.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e I couldn't help sneaking a peek at Max. Jason, I'm sure, meant      when I left my job. Max would have been thinking of something      else.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Welcome to Mrs. Claus's Treasures.\" The curtain was swept aside,      and Jackie stood there, framed in the entrance. She'd been gone      for only about one minute, but she'd undone the top two buttons on      her blouse, twisted the shirttails into a knot so it rode up to      give us a peek at her taut belly, tightened the belt on her short      denim skirt, applied a heavy layer of rose blush, and pulled her      hair out of its clip so it fell in waves around her shoulders. She      struck a pose, hip cocked, one shoulder forward, head tilted.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Max grinned at her. Willow's lip turned up in a sneer and she      rolled her eyes. Jason said, \"Do you work here?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Here? Yes, I'm Jackie O'Reilly. Head of customer service.\" That      title was new to me. Jackie was my only full-time employee. \"If      you're looking for something special, I'd be delighted to assist      you.\" She turned her smile on Max. \"Both of you.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"I'm sure,\" Willow said.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e The chimes sounded and a customer, a real live customer, came into      the shop.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"If you don't mind,\" I said, \"I have a business to run. Jackie.      Jackie!\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"What?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e I jerked my head toward the customer, a middle-aged woman dressed      in comfortable, but not inexpensive, clothes.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Jackie pouted prettily. But she knew where her paycheck came from      and went to assist the new arrival.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Since you left, Merry,\" Max said, \"we've started a new regular      feature in the magazine called Discover America. It's all about      road trips and vacations the reader can find right in their      backyard. We're here to do Christmas in July in Rudolph.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e As much as I wasn't happy to see Max in my shop, or in Rudolph, I      have to admit I was pleased at the idea. We were a tourist town.      If there's one thing tourism needs, it's publicity. Good      publicity, that is, not the sort we had in the days leading up to      last Christmas, which threatened to turn Rudolph into the Ghost of      Christmas Towns Past. \"Sounds like a great idea.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"It was Max's suggestion,\" Willow said. \"I wonder what made him      think of it.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Don't you have locations to scout, Willow?\" Max said.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"I suppose I do. There's a darling little bakery up the street      with a display of gingerbread cookies in the window. So charming.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Victoria's Bake Shoppe,\" I said. \"Their gingerbread is a Rudolph      institution.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"I'm thinking we might be able to expand into a piece for the food      section. I'll try and pry some of the recipes out of them for our      test kitchen.\" Willow pulled a small notebook out of her bag. It      was a real paper notebook, too, with a pen attached. Willow was      always jotting down ideas. It was part of what made her a      successful style editor.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Don't get ahead of yourself,\" Max said. \"We're not here for      food.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"I thought,\" Willow said, \"we were here to do a good story. Heaven      knows, the magazine needs something. Anything to get circulation      back up.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Not food,\" Max said. \"That's Adrienne's domain.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"If we run pictures of the bakery window,\" Willow snapped, \"we'll      get letters asking for the recipes.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Then Adrienne can decide if she wants to feature some.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Gee, you guys are sure making me wish I was back at the      magazine,\" I said. \"Not. Find someplace else to do your      storyboarding, will you? I have a business to run.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Willow pointedly studied the room. Jackie was showing earrings to      the sole customer. As can be guessed by the name of my shop, I      sell Christmas things. The earrings in question were gold, formed      into the traditional triangle shape representing a Christmas tree,      with red and green glass draped from the frame to represent the      lights and decorations. \"I can see how busy you are,\" Willow said.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"We'll be busy on the weekend.\" I rushed to defend my business. In      defending Mrs. Claus's Treasures, I was also defending the      decision that had me leaving my life and job in Manhattan and      returning to my hometown.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Of course you will, sweetie,\" Willow said. \"That's why we're      here.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"The focus of the section will be on Saturday's activities,\" Max      said. \"Family-friendly stuff. Right now we're checking things out,      looking for a bit of color.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Jason lifted his camera and took a picture of Jackie. Caught      unaware, she squeaked and struck a pose. The customer pretended      not to notice the camera as she patted her hair, thrust out her      chin, and sucked in her stomach.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"You can get a full schedule of the day at the town office,\" I      said. \"Santa will be arriving by boat and setting his chair up on      the beach to meet children of all ages. We'll have other      activities going on throughout the day.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Say cheese,\" Jason said, swinging the camera in my direction.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Instinctively, I smiled. Then I remembered myself. \"Don't do that.      I don't want to be in your magazine.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Sure you do,\" Willow said. \"Everyone does. I'm going to the      bakery now. Jason, come with me. So nice to see you, Merry. I'm      sure we'll have lots of time to chat before I leave.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"I'm heading back to the hotel,\" Max said. \"I have calls to make.      Willow, stop in at that restaurant across the street and make me a      reservation for two for seven o'clock.\" He kept his eyes fixed on      me. I shifted.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"I'm not your secretary,\" Willow snapped.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"You are if I say you are,\" he said.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e She huffed, but didn't reply, and she and Jason left. \"Catch you      later,\" Jackie called after them. \"I'll be here all weekend, hard      at work. Although, I don't have to be here all the time if you      need someone to show you around.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Jason gave her a wave, but Willow didn't so much as slow down.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"I'll take these,\" the customer said, holding the earrings. \"Miss,      I said, I'll take these.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Sorry.\" Jackie tore her eyes away from the window. She went      behind the counter to ring up the sale, wrap the jewelry in      tissue, and put the packet into a paper bag bearing the Mrs.      Claus's Treasures logo.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"See you at seven, Merry,\" Max said to me.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"I don't . . .\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"It'll be fun to catch up, won't it?\" He gave me the grin that      once upon a time would have been guaranteed to melt my feeble      heart.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e No longer.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e The bells tinkled as the happy shopper left.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Max crossed the shop floor. \"Those earrings you just sold,\" he      said to Jackie, \"or ones like them, would be perfect for our      article. I plan to do a sidebar on shopping. Maybe you could model      them for us.\"","brand":"Berkley","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":46302438064357,"sku":"NP9780425280829","price":7.99,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":false}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/1842\/7735\/files\/9780425280829.jpg?v=1767728722","url":"https:\/\/k12savings.com\/products\/hark-the-herald-angels-slay-isbn-9780425280829","provider":"K12savings","version":"1.0","type":"link"}