Abigail Stone Cozy Mystery Series

Abigail Stone - Shelter Mountain, Alaska

“I found myself emerged in the community and characters and wanting another book to read.”

“Fun and full of action. This is a good read that just keeps you turning the pages.”

About this series

A secluded town in Alaska. A sleuth who is obsessed with ice cream and solving murders. Welcome to the charming small town of Shelter Mountain, Alaska, home of Sweet Street ice cream shop and its owner, mystery-loving Abigail Stone. 

When a dead body turns up in Abigail's life, she puts her mystery-solving skills to work alongside her childhood friend Tucker, the Village Safety Public Officer. With help from her adorably addictive pet ferret Flick, gossipy best friends, and the Scoops & Sips Tasting Club, Abigail gathers clues all the while whipping up killer ice cream creations on her quest to solve the murder.

Abigail soon realizes every resident of Shelter Mountain seems to be hiding secrets, making each one a suspect in her small-town murder investigation. 

Over the course of five humorous cozy mysteries, Abigail will unravel long-buried secrets, navigate love interests and disgruntled employees at Sweet Street, and prove she can solve any mystery Shelter Mountain throws her way, all while testing new flavors of homicidal ice cream along the way.

Murders, insanely delicious recipes, and whodunnits await you in Shelter Mountain, Alaska. 

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

"The plot is suspenseful to the end."

"This is a fun read with lots of twists and turns."

"This is definitely the beginning of a series you can look forward to returning to again and again!"

"There is a lot of mayhem and drama among the characters to make this an entertaining read which has an exciting finish to it."

"I'm ready to go back for the next mystery!"

"A great new series."

Enjoy a sample from Sipping Wine & Fishing For Bodies, Book 1

Releasing a quick breath, Abigail stepped away from the building door and walked toward the short, stocky woman who looked like a walking fluff of cotton candy, with her graying hair and her pink puffer vest zipped up to her throat. 

“Hello, Ms. Phillips,” Abigail said cheerily as she approached the woman. Flick chose then to climb out of the pouch and scale her shoulder to dook at the newfound visitor.

“Oh, there’s our little friend,” Ms. Phillips gushed. “How’s that little fuzzy-wuzzy today?”

Flick, seeing an opportunity to get more snuggles, leapt onto her shoulder and tickled her cheeks with his hummingbird-like whiskers as he continued to dook at her. “Whoa, boy, don’t smother the poor woman,” Abigail laughed, reaching for the little rascal. 

“It’s no bother at all,” Ms. Phillips replied, pursing her lips to return his affection, waving off Abigail’s attempt to retrieve the affectionate ferret.

Thankful for the timely and welcomed distraction, Abigail asked, “How’s it going? Are you ready for Scoops and Sips tonight?”

The woman’s blue-eyed gaze moved beyond Abigail to Tucker, who still beat on the door of the clinic, as she subconsciously continued to air-kiss a non-existent Flick who was instead nudging his head under her jacket, his body draped across her shoulders. “Is everything all right?” she asked. “I was on my way to the library when I saw you two fly by and pull behind the back of the clinic. I was worried you might be hurt.” 

“No, yeah. Everything’s fine.” Abigail waved a hand dismissively and then attempted to deter the woman by pointing to the enormous quilted bag she held at her side, since apparently Flick’s nudging affection wasn’t enough. Abigail knew Ms. Phillips had made the quilted tote bag herself specifically for carrying all of her quilting supplies because the woman had shared every leg of her progress with the Scoops and Sips group while making it. Ms. Phillips would quilt at the drop of a hat, anywhere, anytime. Abigail also knew it was a topic Ms. Phillips couldn’t resist, so she dangled what she thought was the perfect carrot in front of Ms. Phillips to distract her from what Tucker was doing. 

“Is that a new fabric?” Abigail feigned interest and touched the corner of a swath of midnight blue cotton cloth spilling over the side of the tote bag.

Unfortunately, Ms. Phillips ignored the attempt at conversation, crooked her head around Abigail’s shoulder and looked at Tucker. Then she shifted her gaze to the UTV. Her eyes widened, and her mouth formed an O. “My goodness,” she gasped, raising a hand to point beyond Abigail. “Is that a body in the back of Tucker’s buggy?” She squinted, pulling up her glasses that were around her neck and locked her gaze on the target. “Yes, yes. It is,” she exclaimed. She dropped her glasses, but her hand hung in the air. “That’s a body sticking out of Tucker’s buggy.”