I’d almost forgotten how beautiful the Christmas season can be in my home town of Salem, Massachusetts. I’m Lee Barrett, nee Maralee Kowolski, thirty-three, red-haired, Salem born, orphaned early, married once and widowed young. My recent winter holidays had featured lighted palm trees, beach volleyball and flamingoes decked out in sequined Santa hats. Now Florida seems very far away as I watch snow swirling in bright halos around the streetlamps and tree lights casting colorful dots onto wind-sculpted drifts. Sound nice? That’s the calm after the storm.

I’ve come home to Salem, moved into my own apartment in the same house where I was raised. (My Aunt Ibby and our big yellow boy cat O’Ryan are my much-loved housemates.) I’m dating a wonderful man—Detective Pete Mondello, and I’ve landed my dream job as a field reporter for WICH-TV. Happy holiday bells jingle all over the city and Christmas music rings out joyously darn near everywhere. What could go wrong?

At eleven in the morning, along with my favorite videographer, Francine Hunter, I set out to interview one of Salem’s most beloved figures—Albert Eldridge—the man in charge of the city’s annual Holiday Walk. Mr. Eldridge’s office was in his home—one of those elegant old New England mansions you see in snow scenes on Christmas cards. I entered the office, admiring the richly colored Oriental rug, flickering fireplace with evergreen boughs and holly berries arranged on the mantel and oil paintings of distinguished gentlemen and lovely ladies lining the creamy walls, and approached the huge mahogany desk where the elderly man appeared to be dozing.

I tapped his arm (ever so gently as I explained to the police later), then watched in horror as his chair rolled back and the man slid forward, feet first, until almost all of him was under the desk. A Santa hat covered one eye and the other was wide open, bloodshot, unseeing.

This was not starting out to be a good day. I glanced over at Mr. Eldridge’s gorgeous antique grandfather’s clock just after the EMTs had left, right before the medical examiner had arrived, and while everyone was waiting for the CSI team.

It wasn’t even noon yet.


Giveaway: Leave a comment below for your chance to win a print copy of Bells, Spells, and Murders. U.S. entries only, please. The giveaway ends September 28, 2018. Good luck everyone!


You can read more about Lee in Bells, Spells, and Murders, the seventh book in the “Witch City” mystery series.

Someone’s spreading deadly holiday cheer through Salem, Mass . . .

Lee Barrett has landed her dream job at Salem’s WICH-TV. As the new field reporter, she’ll be covering events live as they’re unfolding. Next on her holiday checklist is an interview with the beloved chairman of a popular walking tour through Salem’s historic districts. But it may be his ghost walking this snowy Noel season after Lee finds him murdered in his stately offices, bloody Santa hat askew.

With her police detective boyfriend working the case and a witch’s brew of suspects—including some bell-ringing Santas—Lee chases down leads aided and abetted by her wise cat O’Ryan and some unsettling psychic visions of her own. When a revealing clue leads to another dead body, not even a monster blizzard can stop Lee from inching closer to the truth . . . and a scoop that could spell her own demise this killer Christmas.

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About the author
Carol J. Perry is the author of the Witch City Mystery series, (Kensington). She was born in that magical witch city—Salem Massachusetts–on Halloween Eve! Carol’s writing background includes ad copy, non-fiction magazine articles (many on travel, more on antiques and collectibles) and several middle grade books. Her first Witch City mystery, Caught Dead Handed, appeared in 2014, followed by six more—the newest, Bells, Spells and Murders released September 25, 2018. Carol lives in Florida with husband Dan, one black Lab and one spoiled cat.

All comments are welcomed.