By Abigail Browining
An outstanding vacation present for secret lovers, this new brief tale choice of over thirty Christmas stories of crime includes contributions from the very best writers of the style: Patricia Moyes, John D. MacDonald, Rex Stout, Julian Symons, Georges Simenon, Margery Allingham, Lawrence Block, John Mortimer and so forth. those vacation stories with a murderous twist contain suspicious Santa's helpers; a Christmas festival participant who assumes the function of a killer; and evil elves with malicious intentions. watch out for placing mistletoe and filled stockings this season, as you have a good time a creepy Christmas with Murder such a lot Merry.
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Additional resources for Murder Most Merry
Their mother tried to distract them. ' Shelby interrupted. 'Well, yes. ' 'I spy with my little eye, something . ' Shelby started. ' Blake yelled. '. . starting with D,' finished Dad. ' Blake called out. ' 'Dashboard,' said Connor with a yawn. Shelby and her mum groaned. ' Blake asked. ' 'Ninety-nine bottles of beer on the wall,' Shelby sang. ' the others chorused. They lapsed into silence again. Shelby wished that she'd borrowed Erin's MP3 player. At least she would have something to do. She leaned forward, elbows on knees, resting her chin on the heels of her hands, keeping an eye out for floats or horse transport trucks.
She smiled briefly. 'It seems silly now, so I thought I'd do it all at once. ' Dad said. He was smiling, but Shelby could tell that underneath it he was worried. When Shelby was younger they had really only seen Aunty Jenny at Christmas time when she came to stay with them, but Shelby had noticed recently that her father was arranging to see her more often, and phoning Aunty Jenny 'just to say hi'. He joked and laughed, but underneath that was the same concerned expression that he was wearing now.
Both,' Shelby answered. Her mother laid her playing cards face down on the table and waited. Shelby's face grew redder. She was going to have to come up with an explanation. 'Well, what happened is, yesterday I met a . . ' Her father turned to her mother again. ' 'Shut up,' Shelby muttered, her face flushed again. 'Did you hear that? She's telling us to shut up. She's wearing a miniskirt and meeting an um friend, and bam! Just like magic she's a teenager. Where's my camera? ' He jumped up. 'We can have it blown up for her twenty-first.
Murder Most Merry by Abigail Browining