Welcome to The Trouble With Nutcrackers, the third book in my new Craft Shop Mysteries series! I’m posting this first chapter as a sneak peek.
If you like this and want more, I’m launching a preorder Kickstarter campaign tomorrow at 9AM EST (Monday, July 6th, 2026) for a super early access to an illustrated, digitally signed version of the book. Ebooks, paperbacks, and hardbacks will all be available, along with the first two books, Once Upon a Craft Shop and The Glass Slipper Heist, and some other cool stuff.
Hope you enjoy this sneak peek!
The Trouble With Nutcrackers
Chapter 1
If anybody asked me, I was absolutely not procrastinating setting up my final outdoor Christmas decorations. Nope. Not at all.
For the first Monday morning in December, Celia’s Craft Shop had been busy. I’d had several older ladies come in and buy yarn for various knitting and crocheting projects they planned to make family members for Christmas.
In addition, another one of my regulars (who made a new quilt every month) had come in to peruse Christmas material for a Christmas quilt. She’d been torn on a festive red and green Lone Star pattern and a Broken Star, but had settled on the Broken Star. We’d chatted about the best techniques for sewing diamonds while I cut the lengths of fabric she needed.
Now I flitted up and down the yarn aisle in my shop, pulling white, gold, green, and crimson yarn for an online order and tucking it into the shopping basket looped over my arm. The familiar delightful smell of fabric and yarn surrounded me, laced with a faint underlying scent of cinnamon apple from the air freshener I plugged into a corner of the shop for an hour or so every morning. (I wanted a touch of yummy scent, but didn’t want to overpower anyone who was sensitive.)
Faint strains of classic Christmas music spilled from the bluetooth speaker I’d mounted on the wall. Thanksgiving was over and the Christmas season here in Starhaven, Kentucky had officially begun.
Overnight, it seemed the town had transformed. I knew it wasn’t really overnight—after all, it had taken the weekend to set up all the Christmas and other holiday decorations—but it sure felt like it had happened overnight.
A combination of clear and multicolored lights now lined the tops of buildings around the entire Square and the streets jutting off of it. Garlands had sprouted everywhere like skinny sideways mushrooms, and other signs of holiday cheer dotted businesses and homes throughout the rest of Starhaven.
My favorite part, however, were the multitude of Christmas trees and nutcracker and snowmen decorations scattered all over town. Even if I hadn’t initially been sure about this last part.
A few weeks back, I’d gotten a letter from the Town Council saying that Starhaven had particular rules and guidelines for holiday decorations. They were very specific—even down to the kind of lights allowed to be used on buildings and the company that business owners must rent decorations from if they wished to participate in the holiday cheer.
I’d been a little miffed at first—the idea of being constrained in my choices of Christmas decor rubbed me the wrong way—and I’d definitely gulped at the prices, but…after I’d thought about it, I’d realized it was a really good idea.
And, over the weekend, as Starhaven transformed into a Christmas wonderland, I came to fully appreciate the genius behind this plan. It was amazing. Everywhere I went, the same type of decorations tied everything together. It gave our already charming small town an even more charming, whimsical feel.
Now, as I carried the basket of yarn up to the front counter, I side-eyed several large cardboard boxes sitting by the rug at my front door. I’d paid to rent a nutcracker, but I hadn’t gotten around to putting it up yet.
Technically, I was procrastinating by pulling an order that wasn’t even going to be picked up until almost closing time, but even though I’d gone to town decorating the interior of my shop, I’d put off dealing with the nutcracker.
Bodacious Garnitures, the company Starhaven’s Town Council had hired, took care of stringing lights and setting up all the Christmas trees and other large decorations. They’d also delivered snowmen and nutcrackers all over town so that business owners didn’t have to go pick them up. We were, however, responsible for assembling our decorations.
I cast another frown at the boxes as I bagged up the yarn and set it in a plastic tote behind the front counter that I’d bought solely for the purpose of holding online orders. That just didn’t seem like a good idea. After controlling every other aspect of Starhaven’s holiday decorations, why would the Town Council trust random people to correctly assemble decorations?
Not everybody had mechanical ability. Some people couldn’t put a children’s toy together, let alone expensive holiday decorations.
Unfortunately, I couldn’t personally use that as an excuse—after all, I’d built all the shelving in this shop, among other things—but putting the nutcracker together was one more thing on an already long to-do list. (Even if it turned out to be easy.)
Unfortunately, I had a deadline. The letter from the Town Council had mentioned something about it being preferable to have all decorations up on Black Friday, but no later than the end of December 1st. I’d been rather busy working Black Friday and hadn’t had the time to assemble the nutcracker. Nor had I had time that Saturday or Sunday, either.
So here I was on Monday, the first of December, and I would just have to get it done.
Outside my shop’s front plate glass window, a dreary drizzle spattered the sidewalk. It was supposed to rain all day, which was also part of the reason I was procrastinating getting that nutcracker put together. Who wanted to work outside in chilly November rain? Even if I needed to?
Sighed, I rubbed a hand over my face. It would have to be done, though, or, well… I didn’t exactly know what would happen, but I didn’t particularly want to find out.
Since I’d packed up my life in Louisville and moved to Starhaven in August, there were times that I felt the Starhaven Town Council was a little bit like an HOA. Not that I’ve ever had an HOA myself, but I’d heard horror stories. I had friends and co-workers who lived in the suburbs of Louisville and they talked about the horrors of HOAs.
In theory, I think they’re supposed to encourage people keep their property neat and tidy and prevent people from being that crazy neighbor with three-foot tall grass and crazy lawn decorations, but the HOAs in the stories I heard went a little overboard.
At any rate, I did not want to get on the Town Council’s bad side only a few months into my residence here in Starhaven, I’d had enough trouble opening Celia’s Craft Shop as it was. I didn’t need to borrow more trouble.
Hands on my hips, I glanced around my shop. Was there anything else I needed to do before I tackled the nutcracker? But, no, everything was in order.
I’d gone to town decorating the inside of my shop. I’d strung clear Christmas lights around the ceiling, brightening the interior immensely, along with some garland and decorative red and gold ribbons. I even had a tiny Christmas tree on my front counter. It was about the size of Charlie Brown’s, but not a scraggly. Next to it stood a crocheted nutcracker doll I’d made before Thanksgiving to use as a decoration.
Frowning, I finally turned to survey the boxes that held the nutcracker. You might as well get it over with, I told myself.
Reluctantly, I snagged a box cutter from a drawer behind my front counter and strode over to the first large cardboard box. Kneeling down, I carefully slit the packing tape and unfolded the cardboard flaps.
A second later, I found myself looking down at a multitude of mint green packing peanuts. Oh, great. I sat back on my heels. Who in their right mind thought that packing peanuts were an appropriate mode of transportation for something like this?
When I was a kid, I’d always thought packing peanuts were fantastic fun to play with, but as I got older, I realized what a nightmare they were to clean up.
Shaking my head, I rummaged around in the top of the box until I encountered something that could only be the nutcracker’s head, except—
I frowned. This head was surprisingly round. My frown deepened as I felt around with my fingers. I thought nutcrackers had big tall hats. This did not feel like a big tall hat. Not at all.
I started to scoop packing peanuts out of the way, but then thought the better of it and went to find a plastic trash bag. The last thing I needed this morning was mint green packing peanuts all over my shop. I didn’t want another mess to clean up—and I couldn’t in good conscience leave it for Agnes, either.
The little brownie who’d come with my apartment as a live-in roommate (unbeknownst to me, initially) loved to clean. She kept both my shop and my apartment spotless, but I didn’t want to push my luck. It’d figure that packing peanuts would end up being the thing that upset Agnes.
Trash bag secured, I knelt on the hardwood floor and began to excavate the contents of the box. After about three seconds, it became painfully obvious that I had a big problem.
Instead of a nutcracker decoration, I found myself confronted with the bodiless head of a cheerful four-foot snowman. The brown tip of a stick arm was just visible poking out of the mass of mint-green packing peanuts beside it.
Bodacious Garnitures had sent me the wrong decoration.
My stomach sank. Oh, joy.
~~~
If you enjoyed this and want to read the rest, you can get a super early ebook, paperback, or hardcover during the preorder campaign Kickstarter. See you there!
