Welcome to Once Upon a Craft Shop, the first book in my brand-new Craft Shop Mysteries series! I’m posting these first three chapters as a sneak peek.
If you like them and want more, I’m launching a Kickstarter campaign tomorrow at 9AM EST (Tuesday, June 3th, 2025) for a super early access to an illustrated, digitally signed version of the book. Ebooks, paperbacks, and hardbacks will all be available, along with some other cool stuff.
Hope you enjoy this sneak peek!
Once Upon a Craft Shop
Chapter 1
Golden morning sun poured through a large plate glass window, slanting across the dusty oak wooden floor and illuminating a horde of dust mites floating lazily in the thick air. It was only mid-June, but the almost-summer hazy Kentucky humidity was in full force. It was especially noticeable in the large, empty front room of this shop.
My shop.
I clutched an ornate silver key and a sheaf of papers to my chest, careful not to wrinkle the papers in my excitement. My chest swelled with emotion, and for a second my eyes burned with hot tears.
It was finally mine. I’d done it.
After years of wishing and hoping, I’d finally made my dream come true. I had leased a little shop and I would be able to open my very own fabric and craft store in Starhaven, Kentucky—the cutest, sweetest little town I’d ever seen this side of the Appalachian Mountains.
Celia’s Craft Shop.
Did I know anybody in town? No. Did it matter? Also, no.
I dragged in a deep breath of hot, humid air, resolve and giddiness twirling together like bright ribbons inside me. I’m fairly approachable. I’d manage to make friends eventually.
A bright smile lit my face, wide enough to make my cheeks hurt. Even better, with any luck, I’d have customers soon.
Still clutching the papers, I twirled in a giddy circle, letting the folds of my light summer skirt fan out around my legs. Oh, I was so excited!
My open-toe sandals made little scuffing sounds on the wooden floor that echoed in the large room as I turned. The stuffy heat and humidity in this room grew more oppressive by the moment, causing sweat to bead on my forehead, the backs of my knees, and under my breasts, but I didn’t notice. I was too busy painting the room with my mind’s eye, imagining what it would look like once I bought rows of shelving and brought in bolts of fabric.
I’d been doing that for the last two months now, though I’d tried to restrain myself in case I hadn’t been able to lease the shop. In theory, it was a great thought. Better to guard myself a little and protect myself so I wasn’t completely crushed if everything fell through.
Reality worked a little differently.
The truth was, I had fallen in love with this shop and what I’d seen of this town and the sheer potential of it all. I had never in my life walked into a place and see what could be with such startling clarity before.
I was so wrapped up in my giddy imaginings that it took a few moments to register the weight of the silence filling this room—and the unsettling feeling that I was being watched. Slowly, like a damp fog rising from the Ohio River, it seeped into my delight and tainted it. The hair on the back of my neck prickled.
I blinked once, twice, and the store I’d been arranging in my head fell away to be replaced by the empty reality of the room in which I stood. Despite the heat, a chill crept over my skin. The feeling of bright promise permeating my new shop and making the sunshine glitter even brighter gold seemed to dim.
Even the rays of sunshine slanting through the large plate glass window darkened, as though someone had thrown a lacy veil between the sun and the earth.
Someone was watching me—and I had the distinct impression that they were not happy I was here.
Under the guise of smoothing out my sheaf of papers, I swept a quick glance around the room, taking in the red brick walls and the original molded tin ceiling squares. Nothing.
I was alone in this room—I’d been alone since Mr. Moffet’s attorney handed me the sheaf of signed papers with a smile and let himself out.
The hair on the back of my neck continued to prickle.
Doing my best to maintain my giddy smile, I glanced toward the plate glass window. I expected to see a face duck out of sight—though I hadn’t thought there had been anyone outside on the sidewalk—but again, nothing.
It was only then that I finally noticed the disapproving heaviness of the silence filling the room. I stood perfectly still, listening. When I’d first set foot in this shop, I’d have sworn that the sounds of traffic from the street outside were audible.
I heard none of them now. The silence seemed to have melded with the heat and humidity to create a heavy layer that pressed down on me almost like a living thing.
Almost like it was trying to force me out. Like it was a disgruntled child trying to tell me I wasn’t welcome here.
Words stirred, formed before I could think about what I was doing.
“I signed a lease,” I said loudly, though to my own ears my voice sounded muffled. “I have a key.”
Instinctively, I tightened my grip on both my lease papers and my oddly antiquated silver key, as though someone—or something—was about to snatch them out of my hands.
But of course, that was ridiculous.
I breathed out a laugh that was only slightly shaky. What was I doing, talking to myself like this? It wasn’t like I’d never been alone in an empty room before.
The heat is getting to you, I thought. Need to get some fresh air.
Lifting my chin, I marched across the light wooden floor to the front door. In my hyper-alert state of listening for any other sounds, it struck me that this old floor was surprisingly non-creaky. The feeling that I was being watched persisted all the way up until I opened the door and stepped out into golden sunshine and fresh air—if you could call air so thick you could practically cut it with a knife ‘fresh’.
It was only when I took a deep breath and looked up and down the street that I realized that nagging feeling of being watched by disapproving eyes had disappeared.
I cast a backward glance over my shoulder. My shop’s front room was still empty. Shaking my head, I shut the door and locked it.
I was imagining things. I had to be. But on a practical note… I made a mental note to make sure I bought one of those little bells that jingled when someone opened the door.
A moment later, having safely tucked both the lease papers and the silver key in my purse, I looked around the street again. For a second, I couldn’t recall what I’d meant to do next.
A sultry breeze brushed past me, ruffling the leaves of the decorative tree in a large pot that graced the edge of the sidewalk two yards down from my door. My new shop was just off of Starhaven’s City Square. From where I stood, I could see similar trees dotting the sidewalks along each of the streets leading into the Square. They gave the downtown area a healthy, outdoor vibe that kept all of the concrete and brick from being overwhelming.
Three doors down from me, a large antique store took up one of the Square’s corners. An orthodontist office and a tiny jewelry store stood between us. Directly across the street stood a plant shop. The sign above the door read Vine Life in curly green.
I liked that. It had the same cutesy vibe you see on all those salt life stickers, but I knew the owner had to be dead serious about plants.
At that moment, a woman came through Vine Life’s front door with a large pink watering can and began to water a few hanging planters with vibrant green leaves that were suspended on either side of the door. Even from across the street, I could see she had a delicate face with large, dark eyes and a fall of chestnut-brown hair that almost seemed to glisten in the early morning sunlight. Everything about her was slender, from her long limbs and torso to the fingers grasping the watering can.
I almost took a step back when she turned her head and our gazes connected across the street. Those large, dark eyes were full of suspicion and—if I didn’t know any better—almost outright hostility.
I suppose I am staring, I thought, and forced myself to smile brightly and wave. The plant lady had to know who I was, though. Small towns differed in some things, like location or weather or layout, but there were a few things that remained the same no matter where they were.
One of those things was that everybody knew everybody else’s business. Particularly if a new business was coming into town from out of town.
For a split second, I debated crossing the street and introducing myself. But then the plant lady’s mouth firmed into a thin foreboding line. She broke eye contact and deliberately turned away, tossing her mane of chestnut hair.
My smile froze on my lips and my chest gave a funny ache, like somebody had shoved me really hard. Well, clearly at least one person in Starhaven was not happy I was opening a shop here.
Swallowing a protest that the plant lady didn’t even know me yet, I forced myself to turn away. Don’t let one cranky grump ruin your day, I told myself. They won’t all be like that.
The law of averages meant that at least a few people in this town would be glad to meet me, right?
Chapter 2
I stood in the sunshine on my doorstep for a moment, debating whether I should go ahead and unpack my car or whether I could spare a few moments for a celebratory iced coffee. There was a cute little coffee shop on the corner of the Square opposite the antique shop.
One of the coolest things about my new shop was the fact that the apartment over it was also included in my lease. My commute to work would literally consist of walking out of my apartment door and down the stairs to street level. It was an older apartment, but it had air conditioning and wi-fi access, and it wasn’t moldy.
Also, the combined rent was reasonable. I’d been thrilled.
I’d packed my car to the gills, but I’d had to hire movers to bring everything else from my apartment in Louisville. (It was either that or abandon what furniture I had. Unfortunately, none of my friends were available to help me drive a U-Haul.) I would have to drive back to Louisville this afternoon so that I could supervise the movers in the morning.
Unpack first, I decided. Then I could grab some coffee and head back to Louisville.
I had just taken the first step toward the alley that lay between my shop and the shop to my left when a disgruntled male voice spoke from behind me.
“What are you doing here?”
Startled, I whirled around, my fingers tightening instinctively on the straps of my purse. The light folds of my skirt tried to stick to my bare, sweaty legs.
“Excuse me?” I asked, before I realized who had addressed me.
It was a little man about four feet tall, dressed in khaki slacks and a dark blue polo, with a faded blue baseball cap pulled over gray curly hair. Arms folded across his chest, he glared at me from beneath his cap as though my very presence—and maybe the fact that he had to literally look up at me—personally offended him.
“You heard me.” The little man raised his chin, his scowl deepening. “Why are you here?”
Bewildered, I motioned to the shop window behind me with the hand not clutching my purse. “I just signed a lease.” I tried for a friendly smile, despite the fact that the little man’s brown-eyed glare could have stopped a flow of lava in its tracks. “I’m planning to open a fabric and craft shop.”
“You shouldn’t be here. We don’t need a craft shop.” The little man shook his head, his upper lip curling with disgust. “What was Moffet thinking?”
“Hey.” Irritation finally broke through my shock. I posted both hands on my hips. “What are you, one of those small-town people who think nobody should be allowed to move in unless they’re already from the area?”
The little man just glared at me mulishly.
I took a deep breath of humid air and mentally counted to ten. I had absolutely no idea who this guy was or how he fit into the dynamics of Starhaven, but I really didn’t want to get off on the wrong foot. Of course…I didn’t want to be walked all over, either…
“I’m Celia O’Malley.” I thrust a hand out toward the little man. “I’m from Louisville, originally—”
“At least you’re still from Kentucky,” the little man grumbled, eying my outstretched hand like it was something contagious.
“—but I fell in love with this town when I visited a while back and I decided to move here.” I dropped my hand, not bothering to mask my irritation.
“Why?” the little man’s arms were still folded across his chest. “What could possibly have made you think it would be a good idea to open a—“ his nose wrinkled in distaste, “—craft shop here?”
Another light breeze brushed past us, the heavy, humid air tinged with something delightfully floral. I was too focused on the man in front of me to wonder where that lovely flower smell originated.
“I know there are a lot of artists in the Appalachian Mountains.” I gestured to the town at large with one hand. “This region of Kentucky is known for the beautifully handmade things that come out of it.”
I drilled the short little man with a firm stare. “And I noticed when I was here that this town doesn’t have a store that caters to that audience. Somebody who makes things only has three options—buy whatever the big box store happens to have in stock, order it online, or travel to a bigger town that has a craft store.”
The little man opened his mouth to make a retort, but seemed to be unable to find the right words. Instead, he snapped his jaw shut and glared at me. “You shouldn’t be here.”
That again? I took another deep breath. Consider this practice for dealing with recalcitrant customers, I told myself, before offering him a tight smile. “You said that already.”
“And I mean it.” He drew himself up to his full height, bristling with indignation. “Outsiders don’t find this place.”
A burst of incredulous laughter escaped me before I could stop myself. The little man’s expression turned lava-level hostile again, and I bit my lip to hold back another giggle.
“I’m sorry,” I said, barely able to contain my laughter, “but have you looked at Google Maps recently? Y’all are on there.” I raised my eyebrows at him. “You’re on a map on the weather app I’ve got on my phone, too.” I nodded to my purse. “And I have cell service, so…” I shrugged.
A shrewd, calculating look came into the short man’s brown eyes. “But cell service was strange when you came into town, wasn’t it?”
I blinked at him, caught off-guard. I thought back to my arrival in town that morning—and then tried to recall the details of my visit a few weeks earlier. Come to think of it, my phone had acted a little strange, but I’d chalked it up to the peculiarities of the local terrain. Hollers and hollows tucked into the sides of mountains don’t tend to get good cell reception.
I decided to switch tactics. Clearly, this man, whoever he was, was one of the locals who resented anybody else coming to live in what he considered his territory.
Setting my irritation aside, I offered him a bright smile. “What’s your name?”
If anything, his scowl deepened. He looked downright suspicious now that I was smiling at him. “Why?”
Of course he was going to be difficult. Sending up a silent prayer that he would not, in fact, turn out to be one of my neighbors, I motioned to the Square. “Do you own one of these shops?”
“Not exactly.”
Oh, dear heavens. I gritted my teeth. This was worse than trying to pry family history out of my great-uncle Terry.
I opened my mouth to ask another question—what, I hadn’t entirely worked out yet—but a firm female voice sounded from behind me.
“Dave, are you being obnoxious to this poor girl?”
Chapter 3
I whirled around, but not before I glimpsed the little man’s face turn a peculiar shade of purple-red.
A plump woman just a little shorter than I was stood on the sidewalk in front of my new shop. A wild riot of silver-gray curls adorned her head, and green eyes sparkled at me from a round face. She wore a light blue dress with a lacy floral pattern and sleeves cuffed at the elbow with about two inches of lace. A white apron was tied around her waist.
I thought she had to be at least in her fifties, but her faintly-lined light brown skin gave her that indeterminable look that meant she could be anywhere from fifty to seventy.
“Maddie!” The little man, Dave, spluttered. He unbent his arms long enough to throw them into the air in frustration. “You can’t just go around town introducing people and handing out names willy nilly!”
“You mean like you just did?” The older woman, Maddie, propped her hands on her hips.
Dave choked back whatever he’d been about to say, falling into grumbly silence.
Fascinated, I watched the two interact. I couldn’t explain it, but I had the strangest feeling that I’d inadvertently stepped into an argument years in the making.
“It’s fine, Dave.” Maddie offered the little man a surprisingly gentle smile, her green eyes full of an understanding I didn’t quite comprehend. “Let me handle this.”
Dave’s face puckered like he’d just bitten into a lemon, but he jerked his head once in a short nod. His surly gaze flicked to me, and then he turned around and marched off without another word.
A faint frown creasing my brow, I watched him stomp away. Another humid breeze ruffled my brown hair. I tucked a stray lock behind my ear out of habit and turned to find Maddie watching me.
“Don’t mind him, dear.” The older woman offered me a friendly smile. “He’s not usually that cranky.”
Unwilling to let the little man off the hook so easily for his churlish behavior, I arched an eyebrow. “I suppose he randomly accosts everybody who moves into this town?”
For a second, the expression on Maddie’s light brown face could have been carved from stone. Then she sighed. “Believe it or not, dear, people don’t generally move to Starhaven.”
I wonder why, I thought, but I had the sense to keep the words to myself.
“Dave has had several…” Maddie hesitated, choosing her words carefully. She glanced down the street, apparently checking for Dave’s whereabouts, though he’d long since turned the corner and disappeared. “Well, he’s had several bad experiences. And he doesn’t handle change well.”
I remained undaunted. “Most people don’t like change.” I took one hand off my hip and held it out. “It’s part of the human condition.” My chest ached with a sudden, old pain, but I resisted the urge to put my hand over my heart. “The only way we can grow is through change.” I shook my head slightly. “It’s inevitable. That doesn’t give him the right to be downright hateful to a complete stranger.”
“Agreed.” Maddie sighed again, inclining her head in a slow nod. “But before you judge Dave too harshly, I will tell you that he has had a rough time over the years. There is a reason he’s so frightened of change.”
She held up a hand before I could even open my mouth. “It’s not an excuse, mind you. I just think you should know, if you’re going to live here, that this town is named Starhaven for a reason.”
She gave me a knowing look. “But then, you wouldn’t be here if that didn’t resonate with you in some level.”
Her words caught me completely off guard. I eyed this strange older woman, mentally debating whether this had been a lucky guess or if she knew something about me that she shouldn’t.
Lucky guess, I decided. I was a single young woman opening her own business in a new town. If that didn’t indicate I was making major changes in my life, I didn’t know what did.
“Now…” Maddie’s face broke into a smile. “I’m sure you have plenty to do, but let me buy you a coffee, Miss O’Malley. I’d love to hear more about this craft store of yours. I can assure you, there are plenty of people looking forward to you opening.”
This has been the strangest conversation I’ve had in a long time, I thought, but I only hesitated a second. “I’d like that.”
Maddie smiled at me and swept a hand toward the coffee shop at the other end of the Square. “After you.”
I hiked my purse up on my shoulder and started walking, but as I took the first step up the sidewalk, the hair on the back of my neck prickled again.
Someone was watching me.
I suppressed a shudder. Glaring at me was probably more like it. The truculent stare didn’t feel friendly, whoever was responsible for it.
I darted a glance sideways, but the tall, willowy owner of the plant shop across the street had vanished. Probably not her. My gaze flicked to the apartments and shops that lined the street above the businesses at ground level. Impossible to tell where that stare was coming from—someone could be watching me from any of those windows.
Ignore them, I told myself firmly, lifting my chin and holding my head high. You have just as much right to live in this town as they do.
As Maddie and I walked to the coffee shop, however, talking lightly about the weather and the number of shops along the Square, I couldn’t help but wonder. If this town was as insular as Dave seemed to think it was, why had it been so very easy for me to move here?
If you enjoyed this and want to read the rest, you can get a super early ebook, paperback, or hardcover during the Kickstarter. See you there!
