A Dark and Stormy Knit (Black Sheep Knitting Mystery)

“The Black Sheep Knitting Mystery series has it all: Friendship, knitting, murder, and the occasional recipe create the perfect pattern. Great fun.”

—
New York Times
bestselling author Jayne Ann Krentz

Praise for
The Silence of the Llamas

“Maggie and her group are as efficient with their investigation as they are with their knitting needles.”

—Library Journal

“Small-town crafty ambience. . . . This enjoyable tale is similar in style to the work of both Sally Goldenbaum and Cricket McRae.”

—Booklist

“The antics of Maggie and her friends will keep readers turning the pages. Tempting recipes round out the volume.”

—Publishers Weekly

Praise for
Till Death Do Us Purl

“An entertaining mystery.”

—Kirkus Reviews

“[A] smooth fourth knitting cozy.”

—Publishers Weekly

“Intriguing mysteries and a slew of interesting characters.”

—Single Titles

“Enthusiastic, engrossing, and exciting.”

—The Mystery Gazette

Praise for
A Stitch Before Dying

“Sure to hook cozy fans.”

—Publishers Weekly

“Congenial characters and a mystery that keeps you guessing.”

—Kirkus Reviews

“Sure to attract readers of Sally Goldenbaum and Barbara Bretton.”

—Library Journal

Praise for
Knit, Purl, Die

“The fast-paced plot will keep even non-knitters turning the pages.”

—Publishers Weekly

“An intriguing mystery with a few surprising twists and turns.”

—
Romance Reviews Today

“An engaging story full of tight knit friendships and a needling mystery.”

—Fresh Fiction

Praise for
While My Pretty One Knits

“The crafty first of a cozy new series. . . . Canadeo’s crime yarn [is] a charmer.”

—Publishers Weekly

“Fans of Monica Ferris . . . will enjoy this engaging amateur sleuth as much for its salute to friendship as to Lucy’s inquiry made one stitch at a time.”

—
The Mystery Gazette

“Delightful. Enchanting. Humorous. Impressive. Witty. Those are just a few adjectives to describe Anne Canadeo’s effervescent cozy debut.”

—
Book Cave

“A unique murder mystery. . . . Fast-paced and electrifying. . . . A series you are sure to enjoy.”

—Fresh Fiction

“The diverse group of friends and their heartwarming camaraderie is what makes
While My Pretty One Knits
an enjoyable read.”

—
Kwips and Kritiques

Maggie Messina
, owner of the Black Sheep Knitting Shop, is a retired high school art teacher who runs her little slice of knitters’ paradise with the kind of vibrant energy that leaves her friends dazzled! From novice to pro, knitters come to Maggie as much for her up-to-the-minute offerings like organic wool as for her encouragement and friendship. And Maggie’s got a deft touch when it comes to unraveling mysteries, too.

Lucy Binger
left Boston when her marriage ended, and found herself shifting gears to run her graphic design business from the coastal cottage she inherited. After big-city living, she now finds contentment on a front porch in tiny Plum Harbor, knitting with her closest friends.

Dana Haeger
is a psychologist with a busy local practice. A stylishly polished professional with a quick wit, she slips out to Maggie’s shop whenever her schedule allows—after all, knitting is the best form of therapy!

Suzanne Cavanaugh
is a typical working supermom—a realtor with a million demands on her time, from coaching soccer to showing houses to attending the PTA. But she carves out a little “me” time with the Black Sheep Knitters.

Phoebe Meyers
, a college student complete with magenta highlights and nose stud, lives in the apartment above Maggie’s shop. She’s Maggie’s indispensable helper (when she’s not in class)—and part of the new generation of young knitters.

Three can keep a secret if two of them are dead.

~ Benjamin Franklin

The clever cat eats cheese and breathes down rat holes with baited breath.

~ W. C. Fields

Many thanks to my dear friend Kathleen Caputi, for sending me a news article that set me on the path to writing this story, for her support and encouragement of my literary efforts, and most of all, for her cherished friendship—definitely Black Sheep quality.

M
aggie left for her shop earlier than usual on Thursday. She faced a full schedule—teaching a new sock-making class, sorting out the picked-over winter inventory, and hosting her weekly knitting group in the evening. She wasn’t even sure yet what to serve her friends for dinner and considered swinging by the market to grab some ingredients for the slow cooker—conveniently stashed in the stock room.

Better to get to work and figure out the menu later, she decided. A good dessert would go far. Something chocolate to cheer everyone up.

Dense gray clouds hung low in the sky, and the forecast predicted flurries. She hated these long, bleak weeks after the holidays were over and spring was far from view. She hoped it
would
snow a little. The village streets, now dotted with dirty, melting patches, could use a fresh coat of white.

Her assistant, Phoebe, called this in-between season “the butt end of winter.” Not a term Maggie would repeat, but the image fit, she had to admit. The town was so quiet and still, it
seemed as if all of New England was hibernating. All of Plum Harbor anyway.

She didn’t notice anything unusual as she turned onto Main Street. Did she have enough quarters handy for those infernal new parking meters? That was her main concern.

She checked the cup holder next to her seat, where she stashed them. Just enough to get through the morning. Unless some eccentric customer hauled in a piggy bank to pay for a purchase, she’d have to run to the Schooner Diner later for more change. Edie Steiber, who owned the eatery, was testy at everyone coming in just to feed the meters lately.

“Do I look like a casino slot machine to you?” Edie had complained only yesterday. It didn’t take much to get on the diner owner’s churlish side. Maggie thought it best to avoid that option for a few days.

She could always shake down her friend Lucy and see if some quarters rolled out. Her good pal stopped by almost every morning while walking her dogs to town, to share gossip and get advice on her knitting dilemmas . . . and real-life problems, too.

Maggie expected to see the trio trotting down Main Street any minute.

The meters were such a grand nuisance. Most business owners in the village, herself included, had protested the proposal. Village shops had enough trouble competing with the big-box stores on the turnpike and at the mall. People didn’t like to shop where there were meters. The Plum Harbor Chamber of Commerce had even collected a petition to ban them with more than a thousand signatures.

But a stalwart faction for raising town revenue had finally won, pushing the parking meters through by a narrow margin.
None of the village trustees owned a business, Maggie had to assume.

Main Street was practically empty at this hour except for a slow, rumbling school bus, a few parked cars, and a delivery truck down near the deli. Maggie could see all the way to the harbor, mesmerized for a moment by a swaying ribbon of gray-blue water that came into view. But as she pulled up in front of her store, she realized something about the street definitely looked . . . different.

A round bag-shaped cover had been dropped over the top of each meter. Like a wrapper on a lollipop. Up and down the street, as far as she could see. Had the town finally given in to some protest she hadn’t heard about?

Maybe it was a holiday she wasn’t aware of. I could save my stash of quarters, she thought with a smile.

But no . . . the coverings were not village issue. She realized that as soon as she parked her car. She turned off the ignition and jumped out. Then examined the nearest meter with sheer amazement.

The coverings were knitted, made of brightly colored yarn. A purple feline face—complete with a pert pink nose, red whiskers, pointed ears, and glowing yellow eyes—stared back at her. The jagged smile—stitched in blood-red yarn—was a comical, yet somehow unsettling, detail.