The Mystery of the Tea Cup Quilt is the first book in Jodi Allen
Brice’s new series – Harland Creek Mystery Quilters. This cozy
mystery novel is packed with engaging characters, a mystery that will
keep you page-turning to the end, and a goat that you are absolutely
going to love. This book’s absolutely gorgeous cover is just the
icing on the cake when it comes to this fun story and I just know
that fans of cozy mystery novels will not want to miss out on
this novel.
The Mystery of the
Tea Cup Quilt is the first book that I have read by Jodi Allen Brice,
but I know that it will not be the last. I’m already looking
forward to more of the Harland Creek Mystery Quilters. These ladies
are so much fun, and while Dove isn’t necessarily my favorite
character, I enjoyed reading her story.
Dove has fallen into
a less-than-desirable situation. One minute, she’s happy and
successful, then next she’s down on her luck because someone she
trusted scammed her. Now, she’s returned home to try and rebuild
her life. Too bad the local busybody has no intentions of letting
Dove live a peaceable life. When Dove pops off at the mouth of the
woman, things go south fast. What makes things worse is when said
busybody ends up dead. Prime suspect? Dove. Living in a small town
is about to get really messy.
I absolutely
devoured this book. I enjoy cozy mystery novels and this one was a
lot of fun to read. Dove isn’t taking things lying down when she’s
accused of murdering a woman she was seen arguing with just hours
before. Of course, Dove isn’t going to let out that she was also
threatened by the now-deceased. But living in a small town, the rumor
mill has already churned out a litany of rumors and it has spread far
and wide. What’s Dove to do now?
Dove isn’t alone
in her investigation. She has a lot of help from her mom, and the
quilting ladies as well. There is quite a bit of humor sprinkled
throughout this book, as well as a misunderstanding or three.
Everyone is a suspect, well...except for Petunia...the goat. LOL!
This small town is full of secrets, and it would seem that the victim
knew quite a few – both true and false.
Dove is an
interesting character, but, in order to keep her true to life, she’s
flawed. Very flawed. Sometimes I couldn’t help thinking that Dove
wasn’t all that bright in certain situations. I say that because
she’d push out certain pieces of information or try to act
indignant with the Sheriff only to get herself into trouble. You can
honestly tell she doesn’t think certain things through before opening her mouth. Honestly, though, it adds a layer of humor to the
story.
The diversity of the
characters adds another layer of enjoyment to this story. While most
of the ladies are older, they are still pretty spry and quick-witted.
There are some that will stand out more in your mind, and ones that
will quickly become your favorites. Regardless of the fact that she’s
a goat, Petunia is probably one of my favorite characters. She’s
definitely one that you want with you when you go sleuthing. LOL!
The author perfectly
captures Harlan Creek as a small town in the south. You have the
trailer park, the eccentric characters, the people just
passing through, the church potlucks, and, the most important
element, the rumor mill. So many elements come together to really
bring this book to life and it all works together beautifully.
When it comes to
mystery novels, I’m always trying to figure out who the killer is.
Well, the author kept me wondering up to the last few chapters. I
loved it. I know that my fellow readers are going to enjoy guessing
who the killer is and their motive. There will be no lack of
suspects, but as we all know, only one can be guilty. Simply not
liking a person or being seen arguing with them is enough evidence.
From beginning to
end the author succeeds in writing a complete story that will engage
you all the way through. The author pays close attention to detail
and puts in just enough in the right places. It’s easy to imagine
the small town and get that small-town feel. Your imagination will
conjure up images of Harland Creek, Mississippi, and have you wishing
that you could see the beautiful quilts mentioned for yourself.
Readers of cozy
mysteries, this book is an absolute must-read. I can’t wait for the
next book in this series. There are hints of romance to come and I’m
here for it all. I also can’t wait to get more of Petunia. LOL!
I’m rating this
book 5 out of 5 stars. I wholeheartedly look forward to the next book
in this series. But, while I wait (since none will be out until next
year) I’ll check out some of the author novels that this author has
written. Since the Christmas holidays are quickly approaching Christmas in Harland Creek sounds like a good place to start and get
you into the holiday spirit.
Thank you to the
author, Jodi Allen Brice, and R&R Book Tours for the opportunity
to read and review this book.
The
Mystery of the Teacup Quilt (Harland Creek Mystery Quilters)
Publication
Date: September 5th
Genre: Cozy
Mystery
Hi!
I’m Dove Agnew, former successful dress designer who was living the
high life in New York, until my sleazy business partner used my
business to move his drugs, leaving me to pack my ruined reputation
and move back home to the tiny town of Harland Creek.
Despite
the setback, all was going relatively well until I found Gertrude
Brown’s body on the floor of my mom’s quilt shop. Now, rumors are
flying and all eyes are on me. I’m a murder suspect! Even my
ex-boyfriend, the current chief of police, is suspicious of me.
Now,
it’s up to me to clear my name and find out who the real killer is
before someone else gets hurt. But I’m going to need help, and the
Harland Creek Quilters, and a goat named Petunia, are just the group
to get things done.
Welcome
to the new series set in the beloved town of Harland Creek.
With
the quilting club ladies and a sidekick, which happens to be a goat,
this book will keep you guessing and laughing out loud!
Add
to Goodreads
Excerpt
I
thought no one knew my secret. But I was wrong.
Yesterday,
Gertrude Brown had come into the quilt shop demanding that I finish
her quilt in one day. I’d never liked that old lady. She was as
mean as a snake and cruel just for sport. I had let my anger get the
best of me and let Gertrude have a piece of my mind. My mom had been
horrified and the two customers in the store had gaped.
I
immediately regretted my action and tried to apologize, but Gertrude
stormed out of the store. My guilt had me staying late after the
quilt shop closed to try to finish her quilt as a peace offering. I
should have known better. There would never be any peace between
Gertrude Brown and me.
Things
went from bad to worse when Gertrude burst into the quilt shop after
Mom had left. Gertrude told me she knew about my secret in New York.
She said she would not hesitate to tell the whole town I was a
criminal if I didn’t finish quilting her Tea Cup quilt that night.
Gertrude was the cruelest woman in Harland Creek, bent on making
everyone miserable if she didn’t get her way.
I
laid my head on the steering wheel and groaned. “Why didn’t I
just keep my big mouth shut?”
A
knock on my car window jolted me back to the cruel reality of where I
was.
I
frowned at the plump older woman with mousy brown hair styled in a
bowl cut. She shoved her vintage silver glitter cat eye glasses up on
the bridge of her nose and squinted at me. She was wearing a tight
purple tracksuit in the middle of summer. The stress lines around her
mouth and forehead made me think she was in her late fifties.
I
went to press the button to roll down the window, then remembered I
was no longer in my Lexus convertible.
Grimacing,
I remembered the Ford’s windows couldn’t be rolled down without
turning the engine back on. I didn’t want to deal with another fart
of smoke so I opened the door.
“Yes?”
I asked.
“You
must be Dove Agnew. You’re Mildred’s daughter, aren’t you?”
The woman’s mouth shot up in a wide grin, making her cheeks look
big and rosy. “I could tell by the eyes. No one has eyes like
Mildred.”
I
cringed at the sound of my birth name but then forced a smile. It had
been a while since anyone called me Dove.
“I
am.”
“I’m
Patricia Earle. I work with your mom. She hired me a few months ago
to help in the quilt shop. I was off these last few days to take care
of Mother. She schedules all her doctor’s appointments the same
week and I have to drive her.” Her smile faltered. “Mildred said
you’d be working here, too.”
I
sighed and nodded slowly. “Yes. Mom asked me to help with the
quilting orders. Seems like summer is a busy few months for her.”
Patricia
looked a little pale around the lips. “So, you will not be running
the register? I was afraid you were going to replace me.” She
extracted an inhaler from the pocket of her tracksuit, put it to her
mouth and took a deep pull.
I
frowned. “Are you okay?” The last thing I needed was to be giving
a strange woman CPR.
She
nodded and then let out the breath. “Yes. I have asthma. My mom
told me I don’t need to get all worked up and upset over nothing.”
“Your
mom is right.”
“She’s
always telling me what to do. I live with her.” She gave me a
slight smile. “Like you and Mildred.”
My
smile slid off my face. “It’s only temporary.” Like me, staying
in Harland Creek was temporary.
She
smiled. “That’s what I said. But it’s been ten years since I
moved back home, and I’m still living with my mom. I’ll see you
inside.” She gave a little finger wave and walked into the quilt
shop.
It
was my first week back at Mom’s quilt shop, and I already felt like
I was suffocating.
I
glanced at my reflection in the rearview mirror. The double braid I
had fashioned my blonde hair into was starting to frizz in the
Mississippi heat. I blinked. Patricia had been right.
No
one had ice blue eyes like my Mom, except me.
Instead
of wallowing in my self-pity, I climbed out of my car and grabbed my
Christian Louboutin bag, the only expensive thing I still owned, and
made my way to the shop.
The
honeysuckle that wrapped around the side of the building hung heavy
in the air. A smile escaped my lips, reminding me of sweet memories
of how as a child, I’d pluck the blossoms and suck on the nectar.
A
bead of sweat trickled from my neck down my back. I had sold a lot of
my expensive clothes back in New York and my wardrobe was severely
limited. Thankfully I’d borrowed a T-shirt of Mom’s and my denim
shorts to help stay cool while I quilted. While the shop had air
conditioning, the room where I worked was the hottest in the
building.
I
swiped my brow with the back of my hand and opened the door to the
quilt shop.
Patricia
had already switched the window sign to Open and had turned on all
the lights. The scent of fabric welcomed me inside the shop as I made
my way toward the back room where the long arm machine was.
The
phone rang, and Patricia immediately answered. “Mildred’s Quilt
Shop, where the sewing magic happens. How may I help you?”
I
headed to the back room and put my purse under the counter where my
mom kept the coffee maker beside the usual tray of pastries that her
quilting buddies would bring by.
My
mom poked her head out of the office. “Good morning, Dove. I was
hoping you’d get here earlier so you can work on Gertrude Brown’s
quilt. She left two messages on the answering machine after we
closed. After that terrible row between you two, I think it best if
we go ahead and finish her quilt.” Mom let out a heavy sigh.
“I’m
sorry about what I said to her yesterday. I know it’s not good for
business to be yelling at customers. No matter how demanding they
are.” I gave her a pained smile.
“Well,
she had it coming. No one has ever stood up to her in this town.”
Mom shook her head. “I swear this is the last time I’m ever
quilting for her.”
I
poured myself a cup of black coffee and walked over to her. “I
finished her quilt last night.”
My
mom’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “You what?”
“I
stayed up half the night so I could finish it. I even completed the
binding.”
Mom
gaped. “That’s the quickest quilting job I’ve ever seen.”
“I
wasn’t going to stay late, but after what happened yesterday, I
felt it best to get it done.” I left out the part about Gertrude
trying to blackmail me.
Mom
stood up and her eyebrows knit together in a frown. “That woman is
so demanding. And mean as a snake to boot.” She lifted her chin.
“You should have just made her wait. I would have if she had talked
to me that way.”
I
took a sip of my coffee and averted my eyes. “I didn’t mind,” I
lied. I minded a lot.
Mom
pressed her lips together in a thin line. “That woman thinks she
runs Harland Creek. I don’t like people like that.”
“Neither
do I. Want me to call to tell her to come get her quilt?” I looked
at her.
“Let
me see it first. I don’t want to give that old bat something to
criticize.” Mom set her mug of coffee down on the counter and
followed me out of the office.
“Knock,
knock!” The woman I recognized as Elizabeth Harland, walked into
the back of the shop. Gray, short hair curtaining a face with kind,
yet strong features, Elizabeth Harland was a steel magnolia. She
sought comfort over fashion and worked hard for a living. She wore
blue jeans and a floral blouse with black orthopedic shoes with white
socks. “I brought goodies. Homemade lemon bars. My grandmother’s
recipe.” She held up the decorative platter covered in cellophane.
Elizabeth
Harland was one of Mom’s quilting group. She was widowed, ran her
own flower farm with a young woman named Heather, and the town was
named after her ancestors. She preferred muumuus when she worked her
farm and was a wonderful cook.
Mom
walked over to give her friend and fellow quilting buddy a hug.
“Elizabeth, you shouldn’t have. But I’m glad you did.” She
turned to me. “You remember my daughter, Dove?”
Elizabeth
gave me a bright smile. “Of course, I do. Hello, Dove. So nice to
have you back in Harland Creek.”
I
smiled in spite of myself. “Thank you, Mrs. Harland. I’m here to
help Mom get caught up on her long arm quilting.”
“That’s
right. You’re quite the seamstress.” She walked over and placed
the platter of sweets next to the coffee. “And please call me,
Elizabeth. I hope you’ll join us for our quilting bee. We’d love
to have the help. We have to finish hand quilting a quilt of valor
for one of the residents at the nursing home.”
“How
kind of you. But I don’t know if you’ll want me quilting with you
ladies. I’m better at long arm quilting than hand quilting.”
“I
doubt that.” Elizabeth gave me a wink. “Have you had time to
finish a quilt yet? I’d love to see it.”
“Then
you got here in time. She finished Gertrude’s last night. Fastest
quilting job I’ve ever seen.” Mom shook her head.
“I
heard she made some kind of coffee pot quilt.” Elizabeth wrinkled
her nose.
I
let out a laugh. “Actually, it’s a tea cup quilt. She appliqued
fabrics in the shape of tea cups and tea pots onto her blocks.”
“Sounds
pretty. Which is unlike Gertrude.” Elizabeth groused.
“Oh,
it is pretty. She even added folded vintage women’s handkerchiefs
under each tea cup. She sewed a seam around the whole handkerchief so
it wouldn’t open. The effect was pretty, but it made it difficult
to quilt through the extra layers.”
“If
she were going to do that, she should have just cut the handkerchief
in half.” Elizabeth quipped.
“I
totally agree, and I told her that. Her response was to shut up and
sew it the way she wanted.”
Mom
gasped. “Dove, you should have called me. I don’t let anyone talk
to my employees, let alone, my daughter like that.”
“I
heard you gave Gertrude quite an earful yesterday.” Elizabeth
grinned.
“Ugh.
I guess it’s all over town. I was hoping to avoid that.” I buried
my face in my hands.
“Ha!
That old bird had it coming.” Elizabeth lifted her chin. “Hopefully
you won’t have to deal with her again.”
I
took another sip of my coffee. “I hope not. Come on, I’ll show
you the finished product.”
Mom
and Elizabeth followed me into the next room, where we kept the quilt
orders written on a whiteboard. There was a wall of built-in shelves
where we kept the pieced quilts to be quilted, as well as the
finished quilts waiting to be picked up.
I
flicked on the switch and immediately screamed. A body, with lifeless
eyes stared up at me.
Lying in the middle of the white
linoleum floor was Gertrude Brown.
Dead.
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About
the Author
Jodi
Allen Brice is a USA Today best-selling author and has written
numerous books under a different pen names. Under Jodi Allen Brice
she writes fiction, small town clean and sweet romance and cozy
mystery.
She
transitioned away from paranormal romance in the year 2020 when the
virus hit and currently writes under Jodi Allen Brice.
Jodi
Allen Brice
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