Body in the Woods (A Reverend Annabelle Dixon Cozy Mystery Book 3) (21 page)

To prepare the apricot glaze, put the reserved juice (there should be ½ pint so make up to this amount with water if necessary) in a small pan and heat through. Dissolve the arrowroot in a little water, then stir into the juice with the apricot jelly. Bring to the boil and simmer until thick. Cool slightly, then pour over the apricots. Cool completely before serving.
Serves 8.

SAINTLY STRAWBERRY CUPCAKES

For the cupcakes:

1 ½ cups flour

1 teaspoon baking powder

Pinch of salt

4 tablespoons whole milk

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

6 tablespoons of strawberry purée (blend fresh or frozen strawberries in food processor)

½ cup (1 stick) softened butter

1 cup sugar

2 eggs

For the frosting:

¼  cup soft butter

3 ½ cups thawed frozen or fresh strawberries

3 ½ cups powdered sugar

½ teaspoon vanilla extract

Preheat the oven to 350°F. Line cupcake tins with paper liners. Sift flour, baking powder, and salt together. Set aside. In a small bowl, whisk together the milk, vanilla, and strawberry purée. Cream the butter with an electric mixer and add the sugar. Beat until light and fluffy.

Add the eggs and mix slowly until combined. Add half the flour mixture and mix briefly. Scrape down the bowl and add the milk mixture, mixing just until combined. Scrape down the bowl and add the remaining flour mixture. Mix carefully and then divide the batter evenly among the cupcake liners. Bake the cupcakes until a toothpick inserted into the center comes out clean, about 20 to 25 minutes. Cool in the pans for about 5 minutes then transfer to a wire rack to let them cool completely.

 To prepare the frosting, purée then simmer strawberries until reduced by half. Beat the butter, sugar, and vanilla extract with an electric mixer. Add the strawberry purée a teaspoon at a time until the frosting is smooth and easy to spread. Pipe each cupcake with frosting and top with a strawberry slice.
Makes approximately 14.

All ingredients are available from your local store or online retailer.

You can find links to the ingredients used in these recipes at
http://cozymysteries.com//body-in-the-woods-recipes/

REVEREND ANNABELLE DIXON WILL RETURN…

Would you like to find out what happens next for Annabelle? Check out in the subsequent book in this fun, cozy mystery series,
Grave in the Garage
. You can find an excerpt on the following pages.

CHAPTER 1

THE USUAL SENSE of peace and tranquility that beset Annabelle whenever she walked around St. Mary’s centuries-old graveyard was not present today. She stepped slowly between the decrepit and leaning stones, her feet heavier than normal as they crunched against the dry leaves and patches of sodden, forlorn grass that even a cow would turn its nose up at. She shivered and pulled her black cassock tighter around her, not yet accustomed to the winter’s particularly sharp and sudden chilliness.

Her time as Reverend at St. Mary’s Church had been a consistent, daily process of rejuvenation; spiritually, socially, and not least, architecturally. She had taken every care to ensure that the church was a wonderful and pleasing tribute to the Lord, from the luxurious velvet of the kneeling cushions to the inch-perfect preservation of its roof tiles. The shrubbery and fauna that ran all around the church had been carefully maintained and groomed into a flourishing yet orderly arrangement, a delightful array of colored blossoms in summer, and a thick display of sculpted, earthy tones in winter. She had even varnished the mahogany pews and tenderly polished the stained-glass windows herself.

The graveyard, however, had remained an untouched thorn in her side. All its residents were a few generations dead, their descendants long-since moved away or neglectful in the upkeep of their deceased relatives crumbling memories. Annabelle had ignored the cemetery during her persistent improvements and renovations to the church, partly because she was loathe to disrupt the timeworn dignity of the area, partly because she had always favored life and vitality over the solemnity of death. But now the graveyard had taken on a wild, unrestrained, and almost ghoulish appearance, she could no longer delay addressing its deterioration.

The gravestones were mostly covered in moss and trailing plants. Some of them so much so that even the names and dates carefully engraved on them once upon a time had become obscured. What must have formerly been a flat, manicured plot of land was now a bumpy mass of mud and weeds. Even the solid, sturdy, iron railings that fenced half the graveyard perimeter were rusted and weather-beaten all out of shape.

The dark, brooding place had long since become a fearful place for children and a source of their horror stories. Now many grieving families preferred to lay the remains of their loved ones in the more attractive and well-maintained plots of a neighboring new town cemetery. There had not been a burial in the church grounds for over a year.

Such a state of affairs was unacceptable to Annabelle. After both a church and town meeting, about which nobody else seemed to care a fraction as much as Annabelle, the Reverend put her plan to a vote to ensure there would be no complaints or obstacles to her plan to revitalize the graveyard. With a new sense of purpose and the village’s (somewhat indifferent) approval, Annabelle was filled with enthusiasm and optimism as she prepared for yet another refreshing and invigorating project of improvement.

Until she saw the costs.

Fixing a graveyard was a task far too detailed and delicate for mere elbow grease, some hearty volunteers, and a few shovels. Annabelle would need the deftest green thumb to bring its wretched soil back to a state of well-nourished uniformity and the experience of a true craftsman to restore stones in such a bad state.

She pulled a notepad and pencil out from beneath her cassock and intensely studied the figures once more, the wind tossing her hair against her brow as vigorously as her thoughts rushed about her mind.

“If staring at the price made things cheaper,” came the warm, lively voice from behind her, “then I’d have a house on the south coast of Spain already. Tea, Vicar?”

Annabelle spun around to see the always comforting sight of her friend and the church bookkeeper, Philippa, carefully treading between the stones, a mug of steaming tea in her hand.

“Oh yes, that’s just what I need,” Annabelle put the notepad away and took the cup.

“You’ll catch your death of cold if you keep coming out here, Vicar. Why, you’re not even wearing your coat!”

Annabelle sipped slowly from the mug and gazed out into the cemetery before musing, almost to herself, “We shall need another fundraiser.”

“Reverend!” Philippa gasped as she hugged herself tightly against the wind. “We’ve already had
three
in the past month! The bake sale, the children’s talent show, and the raffle. That raffle prize was one of the best I’ve ever seen, to put it mildly!
A custom-made coat from Ms. Shore ditch?!
I’ve never seen such immaculate tailoring. I bought a dozen tickets myself!”

“Then why are we still so short?” Annabelle replied with a tone of exasperation that Philippa knew not to take personally. “We raised more money when we held a flower sale for the path to be re-graveled! I just don’t understand it.”

Philippa sighed and placed a hand on the tall Vicar’s shoulder. Annabelle turned, her face a mixture of confusion and desperation.

“Are people tired of the church?” Annabelle asked her friend, as if pleading for an answer. “Have they run out of sympathy for its causes? Maybe it’s the graveyard. Perhaps it’s too macabre for most of them to care about. Do they believe the childish tales of ghosts and goblins?”

As the Vicar gazed at her, Philippa opened her mouth as if to say something, before quickly closing it and putting a finger over her lips.