B.K. Baxter's Blog

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We are loving what you are saying about The Cat of Monte Cristo and want to show you some of the reviews.

"Sir Chonksworth the Bold is a brilliant detective. It’s because of him and his investigations that I had this one figured out before Jade did. Now, that did leave me a tiny bit frustrated that the human portion of the sleuthing contingent hadn’t picked up on the clues quite so quickly, but Jade and the rest of the quirky residents of Beulah are just so darned entertaining, that I was perfectly happy to sit back and enjoy the ride. And, it’s looking like Chonks might already have another mystery on his paws that needs looking into. Whatever the case, I can’t wait until it’s time for us to come back and join my new favorite feline detective and his people as they uncover more of the secrets hidden in this irreverent small southern town."

"Chonks did it again! I absolutely love this series. It has mystery, intrigue and a little Sweet romance. It will keep you engaged throughout the book! Love it!!"

Prologue

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By this time back in Baltimore, the leaves would be a collage of blood reds, burnt oranges, and vibrant golds, but the heat kept its grip tight around New Orleans, and the leaves remained green even as the children returned to school in their long yellow buses.

Still, the days didn’t seem as ungodly hot, or maybe I was just getting used to it. After all, Jade and I had been living in Beulah, the flyspeck of a suburb on the outskirts of the Big Easy, for six months now.

I hadn’t adjusted to everything in our new hometown yet. The humidity still made my fur frizz, and the leash training Jade was insisting upon was somewhere between intolerable and unbearable. Whatever possessed that woman to think a cat could be led around by a piece of string, I would never understand. And those lumbering oversized rats that inhabited the swamps and lowlands were something I wasn’t expecting to ever get used to.

Beulah had accepted us—well, most of Beulah at least. A few of our neighbors weren’t too pleased at the way Jade stuck her nose into town business, even if her heart was in the right place. Still on the whole, the sleepy New Orleans suburb had gotten used to their new part-time librarian and full-time snoop. And most had finally caught on to share a little snack with their favorite new feline detective when he made his rounds.

Which was what I was doing this evening. Jade’s best friend, Char, had stopped by to pick her up for what they were calling “Grub and Gripe Thursday.” Each week, they’d head into New Orleans to some new culinary treasure to complain about work over a fancy dinner. Although if I knew Char, she’d do less complaining and more inhaling of whatever was set in front of her. The poor girl might be allergic to cats, but she’d never met a snack that disagreed with her.

Speaking of snacks, and not the tummy kind, I wished, not for the first time, that I could convince Ethan to move in with us permanently. Char called him a “snack,” which never failed to make Jade blush, although I failed to see the resemblance between the beefy handyman and a food item. At least, I’d never tasted anything special when I’d given him a few test licks. He was human, just like the ladies, although the way he stroked behind my ears was divine.

I knew Jade liked Ethan’s company, which went double for me. So why not invite him to share the ramshackle plantation with us? Lord knew he was there enough, fixing this, repairing that, and always on the lookout for my latest escape route. He wouldn’t find this one, though. Humans, even this human who was quickly becoming my all-time favorite, weren’t that smart.

I’d left the planation this evening, safe in the knowledge that I could easily get home before Char and Jade ran out of complaints and menu items. I was currently jogging along through the underbrush toward downtown Beulah. Although I wasn’t currently on a case, I’d become fascinated with a certain taciturn old woman who never failed to get my roommate’s goat. I was headed to Beulah’s library again to continue my surveillance of the dreaded Luanne Jackson.

I’d started keeping an eye on the head librarian when I’d gotten tired of Jade’s constant complaints. Surely, no human could be as annoying and obstinate as Jade painted her boss to be. It hadn’t taken long to discover that Jade had not been overemploying hyperbole in the case of the spinster Miss Jackson. If anything, she’d underestimated the woman’s withering personality.

Luanne Jackson was a crabby old woman who had long given up caring what other people thought about her. She was also prone to say exactly what she was thinking, a rare trait among humans and one that delighted me. Spying on the old lady had become somewhat of an addiction these past few weeks, in part because I’d discovered something the rest of Beulah didn’t know. Miss Luanne was more than a boring old librarian. She was a woman with a secret obsession.

I arrived at the library after closing time, but I knew she’d still be in there. It seemed to be a habit of hers, lingering at work as dusk settled on the town.

I hopped onto the casing of the air-conditioning unit that still hummed away in the heat, causing a not unpleasant vibration to course through me. The perch afforded me a view through the window outside Luanne’s office.

Like most other nights, she sat at her desk, working away on the project that seemed to take up much of her free time. A stack of books sat beside her elbow as she paged through an old tome, making notes in the journal she kept locked in her drawer during business hours and that she stuffed into her bag each night as she left.

There was something in that journal Luanne didn’t want to come out, some secret she feared being exposed.

I adjusted my position, figuring I might get some bathing done while the old woman worked. Licking my thick fur until it shone, I peeked up periodically to make sure I didn’t miss anything important. It was near dark when Luanne closed the book and tucked her journal away. My eyes followed as she left her office and closed the door.

Soon, Luanne was locking the front door of the library behind her and starting off down the sidewalk. I jumped down and tagged along behind her, sticking to the lengthening shadows so the old woman didn’t know she had a tail. This wasn’t the first time I’d followed her home, and she hadn’t yet noticed me. We cats were naturally stealthy, and I preferred to believe I could give an authentic Japanese ninja a run for his money.

The old librarian followed a familiar path, and I darted off to the left, knowing I could cut through the old cemetery to shave off some time. It was a place of hanging vines and graves that sat above ground. The water table was such that nothing could stay buried for long, it seemed, so mourners had built fancy sarcophagi for their loved ones, white stone decorated with weeping angels and Celtic crosses.

Ducking behind a stone box covered in stylized stone roses, I watched as Luanne paused across the street, coming to a stop in front of a rambling old house. Its windows boarded up and its paint peeling, the house was a reminder of stately times gone by. Whenever the librarian came this way, she would stand in front of the house for several minutes, watching it as if she were waiting for someone to step out of the faded blue door and walk out over the rotting porch to wave a hand in welcome.

But unless that hand belonged to a skeleton, anyone substantial who walked across that porch was likely to fall right through it. Frankly, I wouldn’t be too surprised to see an honest to goodness skeleton shamble out of that old house. It was creepy.

I’d considered trying to find a way in, but to be honest, I didn’t want to. The house smelled off, and whatever secrets it was holding, they weren’t anything I cared to know.

Luanne heaved a sigh and started walking away, her brisk pace indicating she’d put away whatever dark thoughts compelled her to stop at that house night after night. I was just about to dart out from my hiding place and scurry across the street when a noise startled me into stillness.

Around the corner came a station wagon that had to have been manufactured around the time of Jade’s birth or earlier. Attached to the top of the ancient vehicle was a loudspeaker, and from that speaker blared a message that reverberated around the neighborhood, making me hiss as a shock of feedback rent the twilight.

“Mayor Travis Landry has let you down. He’s failed to keep his friends and neighbors safe at night. His backdoor deals with shady characters mean more violence, more crime, and more headaches for all of us. It’s time for a new mayor, Beulah! One who will restore this town’s dignity and banish the criminal element from our streets for good.”

My ears twitched, thinking whoever’s voice it was blasting from the speakers was really laying it on thick. “Vote for Marlene Marshall for mayor!” the voice said, its tone rising to near-shriek levels and making my ears lie flat against my skull.

I gave up on tailing the librarian, instead intrigued by this new development. Mayor Travis had been Beulah’s leader for several cat generations, and he generally ran unopposed. It seemed as if his time of taking his office for granted was over.

I slipped back through the cemetery, headed to the dumpster behind Sparky’s Diner. If the girls could have their Grub and Gripe, then I could have my Sniff and Snack. The garbage bags old Sparky threw out usually held a treat or two, even if I did end up bringing back up some of what I gobbled down.

As I jogged back to downtown, I wondered what excitement was in store for the not-so-quiet town of Beulah. It might not be the same fervor that accompanied the discovery of a body, or a whole field full of them, but I had a feeling things were going to get crazy quickly.

Although I’d often struggled to understand human concepts, there was one institution that I grasped intuitively. Politics. Cats were instinctively political because the tom at the top got the choicest morsels and finest females. Hierarchy was everything, and jostling for position was something we came out of the womb knowing. We even fought over our mother’s milk.

If the same kind of pandemonium was about to settle in Beulah, I wanted to have a front-row seat. Would the town cast its vote for the tried and true, or would the passionate newcomer have a shot at stealing the mayor’s seat?

My whiskers were twitching with excitement to find out.

Just when I thought things in my New Orleans suburb were starting to settle down, a crazy
mayoral election throws a wrench into the works.

Mayor Travis was used to applause from his days as a high school football star, but he’s more likely to hear boos nowadays, since his rival is painting him as soft on crime.
Beulah’s recent uptick in crime has the mayor losing the case for re-election, and it doesn’t help when the other candidate starts getting threats she’s happy to lay at his feet.
Mayor Travis swears his innocence, but some of his constituents are happy to believe he’s guilty.
And yet, the rival candidate has secrets of her own, secrets that could come back to haunt her.
Can Chonks and I unravel the mystery of where these threats before the ballots are cast?
Can we save Beulah the chaos of a contested election?

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"Sir Chonksworth the Bold is rapidly becoming my new favorite feline sleuth."

"I was sucked into the story and kept guessing all the way to the end. Making this one of my favorite kinds of mysteries: one I can’t outthink."

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Prologue

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The swampy heat of the Louisiana night was making my fur all frizzy. The fat, golden moon hung high above the humidity that bore down on me with the authority of a nip to the earlobe by my mother, God rest her fluffy soul. 

I was perched on the roof of the backhoe, surveying the ground in front of me. The empty lot was once filled with patchy grass and abandoned plastic wrappers that blew through like man-made tumbleweeds. Now that grass was turned over, the ground marked by the initial scratches caused by these massive machines. 

I envied them their ability to move earth. I knew it took skill, a skill my roommate didn’t seem to appreciate when I used it on her houseplants.  

Speaking of my roommate, she would pitch a fit if she knew I was out here miles from home in the hot Louisiana night. She insisted I was an indoor cat, even if my actions clearly proved I wasn’t. Jade might be catching on however. She’d recently bought a leash and decided to take me outdoors on the end of the thing a few times a week.

I had opinions about leash training, but it wouldn’t be polite to share them here. Even us cats knew how to curse up a storm when the occasion warranted it. 

Jade didn’t know about my new secret exit from the house, and I aimed to keep it this way. If I could only resist the handyman’s magic fingers, I’d encourage the roommate to send him far away. But that man had a way of petting me that put me on Cloud Ten! Maybe I should start encouraging Jade to invite him over more often. 

Maybe the handyman would stick around permanently. 

I wouldn’t have found this particular place if it weren’t for a fight I’d had with a local tom. He’d been straying too close to the plantation house for comfort, so I had to go out and assert my rights. He’d fled, and as all cats are aware, I had been honor bound to give chase.

By the time he’d finally gone to ground, we were miles away from the plantation. He’d shoved his bulk under one of the yellow digging machines in this very lot, then started yowling like his tail was on fire. 

I’d stalked the digger, waiting for him to come out so I could ambush him, when I’d realized his pitiful shouts had really been a call to arms. Three younger, leaner cats had appeared, chasing me off the empty lot and assaulting my feline pride. 

I wasn’t one to give up a fight however, and I knew if I gave ground on the lot, then I would be inviting the tom and his army to invade my property. So I’d done my best to sniff out his cadets so I could attack them, one by one. My plan worked well with the first two males, but the last must have gotten wise because he’d been the one to get the drop on me.

It was at this very site on a cloudy summer night when I’d fought the battle of my life. Him being a southern gentleman of sorts, I’d expected something dignified, like the humans with their dueling pistols. Instead, he’d come from above, his paws slapping me with a speed that could only be matched by my own like when I attacked my food bowl in the morning. 

He may have struck first, but I struck hardest. And now the lot was mine. Not that I needed dominion over this sad plot of land. I was just interested in what came next.

I could smell dead flesh hidden beneath the surface there. But it wouldn’t be hidden for long, not if these machines kept tearing into the ground. Soon, something sinister would be laid bare. The humans were set on building something here, on ground that had lain undeveloped for untold ages. Why they’d decided to park one of their stone boxes there now, I had no idea. But I was determined to find out. 

I wondered how the humans would react when they unearthed the lot’s hidden secrets. My confidence in their ability to solve mysteries was relatively low. Most of them seemed prone to make kneejerk decisions informed by personal opinion. Too often, they ignored their own senses, or they just couldn’t see the clues right in front of their faces.

It must be their inferior vision. Or hearing. Or sense of smell. Humans were pretty handicapped when it came to survival. I supposed it was a wonder they managed to walk around at all. 

Still, they weren’t without certain useful abilities. Like organization. They managed to get things done in a set number of hours without the need for frequent naps. And in the culinary arts, they were unparalleled. 

Cats tended to gulp down our prey when we’d finally tired of toying with it. No bother was paid to its temperature, seasonings, or if the meat had finished wriggling or not. But humans would spend hours—days even—perfecting every nuance of their meals. 

Now if only I could convince Jade to share more of those meals with me. So far, she’d proved immune to my tactics. Staring at her like a maniac and not blinking hadn’t budged her. Politely asking had also failed, as had taking swipes at her plate, which only ended up getting me banished from the table. 

Nevertheless, I planned to persevere. Someday, I would convince my roommate to treat me as the superior I was and offer me the finest cuts of meat and creams. Maybe if I helped her solve this next mystery, she would recognize the truth about me. Then again, she hadn’t figured it out last time. 

If cats could sigh, I would have. Instead, I hopped down off the backhoe and started making my way back home. As I walked, I pondered whether Jade would embroil herself in the latest crime investigation. 

Who was I kidding? Of course, she would. Humans couldn’t help themselves. Other peoples’ business just seemed to invite their noses. Speaking of noses, mine had caught an interesting scent, driving me into the bushes that lined the road. A hint of something sweet and floral but with undernotes of musk. 

I followed the aroma along the road until it led me down a stately driveway. Before me stood a large house built hundreds of years ago. The scent was coming from inside that house. I crept closer, jumped onto the top of a garbage can that sat against the back of the house, and peered into the window. 

The thin gauze curtains left me with only impressions. I could see bodies moving inside, more than I would have expected for such a settled neighborhood. Beulah might be a small suburb of a much larger city, but she rarely got new arrivals. Most folks were leaving the area for the big city, not the other way around.

And I definitely caught hints of the city here. From within the garbage can, I smelled faint traces of city life, car exhaust, rodent tracks, and takeout containers that did not have the local stink of Sparky’s all over them. 

A group of strangers had just descended on Beulah with no notice. The way gossip flew through this suburb, everyone should have been talking about them. No one was—yet. 

I sat there watching until I got bored. Then I went home with the ever-present humidity dogging my footsteps. I managed to squeeze through my hidey-hole and make my way indoors and into the kitchen.

Just as I suspected, my dish remained empty. 

Dawn was just beginning to streak the sky, but my belly was already protesting. I had expended a lot of effort tonight on my jaunt through town, and I was in need of precious calories to get me through the eleven-hour nap I had planned. 

Padding up the stairs, I headed straight for Jade’s room. I leapt onto the bed, then made sure to walk on the length of her entire body. I turned around, swished my tail in her face to wake her, and bopped her with my nose. 

“Chonks,” she protested. “It’s way too early for this nonsense.” 

Nonsense, woman! I projected with the scratch of my whiskers against her cheeks. I need sustenance!

“You’ll get your food when I get up. Now leave me alone.”

She thought a pillow to the body would deter me, but it only made me dig my claws into her pajamas—except the fabric was thin and maybe my claws passed right through them.

“Ouch, Chonks!” She sat up, fixing me with an angry look. “What’s your problem? You certainly aren’t starving. Just look at the gut on you.” 

I yowled back, letting her know I didn’t appreciate the fat shaming. I was a fearsome predator, and I didn’t deserve this kind of impudence. 

“Fine,” she said at last, throwing her hands into the air. “It’s not like you’re going to let me go back to sleep. But mark my words. Whenever I catch you napping from now on, it’s game on, mister!”

I followed her steps as she headed down to the kitchen, almost causing her to slip down the stairs but not on purpose. I was just that eager. 

The sound of the kibble hitting the food bowl was music to my ears. I set upon it immediately, not stopping to even take a breath before all of those sweet little nuggets were firmly lodged in my belly. 

Exhaustion hit me right away, and I headed for the sitting room and the square of sunlight I knew would be hitting the hardwood floor this time of the morning. Settling in, I closed my eyes and fell into sleep.

I was in the middle of a dream in which I’d discovered an unattended sandwich shop and was wreaking havoc behind the counter when a loud noise awoke me with a jolt.

“That’s right,” Jade shouted over the infernal racket of the monster machine she was pushing. “If you’re going to wake me up at the crack of dawn, I’m going to run the vacuum during your morning nap. Fair is fair.”

I shot her a murderous look, then stumbled off to find another place to curl up. Infernal woman! I considered placing an ad on the local bulletin board requesting a new roommate. Must respect the sanctity of naps. Must not own a vacuum cleaner. 

Then again, who was I kidding? Jade wasn’t that bad, and she did know how to scratch me just right. 

Besides, cats don’t have thumbs. How was I to write an ad? 

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Check out my cover reveal for The Cat's Sure In The Rye, book 2 in A NOLA TAIL MYSTERY SERIES.

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"This is a wonderful summer read! It has the right mix of humor and mystery! Ready for another NOLA Tail mystery!"

"Liked the concept and the story line, I especially liked how it opened up with the cat being the story teller,excellent read!"

"Who doesn���t love a wonderful mystery with a cat to help solve it? This a wonderful story with wonderful characters. It kept me guessing and turning the pages. It���s a first in a series so it had some introductory to it. This was a very enjoyable read. I can���t wait for the next book."

"This story kept me engaged and kept me guessing the whole way through. I particularly loved that the humidity is treated as an extra character. As someone who does battle with it on a regular basis, I got extreme enjoyment out of the malevolent characterization. Now, I just might have a new favorite feline to add to my list of illustrious literary sleuths."

Prologue

The old plantation house was big, meaning it at least had size working in its favor. It was much larger than our old one-bedroom apartment in Baltimore, but bigger wasn���t always better. Just ask Jade, who seemed less than enamored with my own superior size. She was always moaning that she needed to start lifting weights to be able to pick me up.��

Jade and I were getting settled into our new home in the exotic-sounding province of Beulah, Louisiana. The air was heavier here, laden with moisture that made my fur frizz. I was used to Baltimore���s climate. While humid in the summer, we���d also had a snowy winter. The climate in Louisiana made me feel like I was walking through Jello.��

Jello was another food Jade wouldn���t let me eat.��

For a roommate, she was decent enough. She kept me fed, even if she ignored my schedule, despite my insistent regular reminders. And she always remembered my favorite kibble. It was the delicacies reserved for the creatures that walked on two legs that she and I didn���t see eye to eye on.

Why she refused to share the ham on her sandwich or to let me get a taste of the cream she was pouring into her coffee, I would never know. It was probably related to my impressive size and her envy of me.��

And while we���re on the topic of all things edible, the food here in Louisiana was different too. Scents of various spices unknown to my nostrils before we���d strayed this far down south were appearing to greet me every day. It kept my nose busy, and my brain, as I determined which new tasty tidbits to try and how to beg, swallow, or steal them.��

Despite my excitement at a novel culinary journey, it was still difficult to settle into a new routine. I found myself gazing out the dusty windows past trees that looked too lazy to hold up their own leaves. I was homesick for the busy streets of Baltimore.��

Out here, the only thing I saw out my windows were nutria slowly hauling their fat rat bodies across the lawn in the daytime heat like Mr. Hanes, the old man in 4B back in our old building, hauling himself across the summer sidewalk.��

Back in Baltimore, my favorite pastime was sitting in the front window that looked out over the sidewalk and hissing at the dogs when they passed. The smart ones always whined and hunched back on themselves. The stupid ones barked, running in circles and getting their owners entangled in their leashes. I���d once seen a Pekingese catch her leash on her owner���s heel, causing said owner to tumble into a puddle and let out a string of curses filthier than the maintenance man when he couldn���t get the sink to unclog.��

That little episode had kept me in stitches for a week. But really, it wasn���t fair of me to laugh. Dogs were idiots. No wonder they needed their owners to lead them around everywhere, lest they get lost or go haring off after anything with a pulse that crossed their path. We cats were much more refined. We didn���t have owners. We had roommates. And we didn���t need anyone to guide us around at the end of a string.��

Strings were prey.��

Maybe the size of this place wasn���t the benefit I thought it was. It meant more territory to protect. Back in Baltimore, I only had to worry about the small enclosed backyard that belonged to the apartment complex and my bent-eared nemesis, an old gray tabby male that insisted on encroaching on my domain.��

My yowls against him were legendary, as was the bout of fisticuffs we���d come to the time I���d managed to escape the apartment and caught him on the fence. Unfortunately, Jade insisted that I act like a gentleman, so we���d yet to have a rematch. But I batted at the window like a champion whenever I saw him, and I���d like to think he feared me from afar.��

Still, I preferred to see this rambling old structure as an upgrade. One that afforded me certain advantages. Like the unexpected exit to the outdoors that Jade had yet to find. I used to have to wait for my chance to dash out the door when Jade wasn���t expecting it, but she���d gotten pretty good at blocking me over the years we���ve cohabitated. But the broken window at the far end of the basement allowed me secret access to the fairyland that was now mine to claim.��

I���d already done a reconnaissance mission to get my bearings and had unearthed a town buried in the past. In Baltimore, I���d had to be mindful not to run afoul of the traffic or Sir Chonksworth the Bold would become Sir Chonk the Flat. Although I often tried to run off with one of Jade���s pancakes, I didn���t want to become one. But the traffic in Beulah was like a mouse that hated cheese: it didn���t exist.��

The main street had only one stoplight in the center of the town, the bones of which were laid 275 cat generations ago, or around six human generations. Not every structure was that ancient, but none were exactly what I would call modern. Especially the old library where Jade had started her job as assistant librarian.��

Why she chose to surround herself with books instead of more interesting things like moths, catnip, or even boxes, I���ll never understand. She always had her nose buried in her books. Back in Baltimore, she���d read aloud from one to me every night. Mostly, I slept on her lap, but the stories still managed to sink in.��

And what ridiculous stories they were. The authors never spent enough time on the most interesting parts. No discussion of hunting for small furry things or chittering at birds. No mention of the ecstasy of burying your nails in corrugated cardboard. Just silly things like love and betrayal and regret.��

And sometimes murder.��

At least those stories were a little intriguing. Cats were well-built instinct machines, and the desire to feel a heartbeat slow under our teeth was one we all shared. Despite our killer instincts, we still craved affection from those closest to us. But that didn���t mean we liked to hear about all that mushy human emotional nonsense.��

The Beulah Public Library was housed in a historic building that was slowly crumbling in the moist Louisiana heat. Still, the space itself was pristine, likely thanks to the elderly woman charged with bossing my roommate around. Jade might grumble about her after work as she debated with herself over whether to have a second glass of wine with dinner, but no one could argue that the head librarian ran a tight ship.��

Across the street from the library was City Hall, a square building built of stone in the center of a manicured lawn that stretched for an entire block. The corners of the square were decorated with archaic cannons that, like my roommate, hadn���t seen any action in years.��

I���d already spent several nights wandering the town. I���d passed a drug store with its bright green cross. A grocery store that smelled fresher than our local bodega, with signs advertising sales on things I���d never heard of like white hominy and gumbo base. A restaurant that reeked of eons of grease that seemed to have soaked into every pore. ��

Not that I was complaining. I���d spent an hour exploring the dumpster behind that place and managed to find a couple choice treasures. But the days of grooming required afterward proved those treasures weren���t worth the trouble.��

There were other buildings that weren���t unlike the ones I���d seen in Baltimore the few times I���d managed to make it onto the streets. A church. A school. A building to repair those noisy automobiles humans seemed to love, and a building to feed them. Offices. Houses. Businesses.��

It might be smaller than Baltimore, but it had all the requisite pieces to make it livable for Jade. People in Beulah seemed friendly enough as well. They were polite, always showing their entire mouth full of teeth but not in an aggressive way. They might talk funny, but all humans and their insistence on words sounded foolish.��

So why did I feel like Jade was getting herself into something she might not be able to handle here in the Deep South?��

The secrets. I could smell them. Some were buried far beneath the soil of this sleepy town, but some weren���t so deep. Some were very near the surface, just waiting to be discovered. Jade might not be able to tell, but I could.��

Things weren���t as they seemed in Beulah.��

It was a good thing I was here to keep Jade safe. And to ferret out the secrets one by one. Sir Chonksworth the Bold loved nothing more than a good mystery. And I knew that it wouldn���t be long until some secret scratched its way into the light.��

In the meantime, I���d keep Jade company in this big old house, patrolling its halls and its grounds, making sure she kept us fed, and angling for the occasional scratch behind the ears. Some things might be vastly different about this place, but some things always stayed the same. Like the fact that a good scratch behind my ears always made me purr.��

Not all secrets were bad. Some ended in new discoveries that bring us closer together.��

Me? I planned on discovering the secret of how to snag one of those oyster po���boys I���d heard about. As long as Jade didn���t discover my emergency exit.��

My roommate was clever, but she tended to get distracted. It was up to me to make sure she focused on the important things. Speaking of, it was about time to let her know the food bowl was empty again.��

It was a quandary, how that kibble always seemed to disappear so fast. I might be able to uncover long-buried secrets, but the secret of never-ending kibble was a mystery I had yet to solve.��

��

Hey there, it's been a long time, but I'm excited to share the cover for my newest cover, The Great Catsby...

Watch what you wish for��� Some inheritances are literally death.��

My life has been turned upside down by my inheritance, but my only complaint is the cat that came along with the new house.��

I swear he���s judging me as I settle in and try to make new friends in my new small-town Louisiana neighborhood.��

And just when I start to settle into my new job and get back to reading my classic novels, I���m pulled chapters deep into a mystery.��

The Beauty Queen in the town has been offed. Someone has killed the darling.��

Wouldn���t you know it? An innocent man has been framed.��

I shouldn���t get involved, but somehow, my cat seems to have a way with finding clues in some of my favorite stories. Not that any of that makes sense.��

Why would it?��

The cat is the sleuth, I���m the amateur, and we have alligators in the backyard.��

Throw in a dead body, a book club that���s filled with suspicious characters, and you have my new life.��

And I thought being a librarian in Louisiana was going to be dull.

The Yarn-Over Series Book 2

After her generous, and unintentional, donation for splinter-free park benches, Velma Harmon gets invited to a charity dinner hosted by the Beautification Committee of Bliss at the home of Everett Gaines, one of the wealthiest widowers in town. With no interest in going, she hopes to find adventure elsewhere, much to the dismay of Ethel and Chief Rayne. Ethel has always wanted to see Gaines Manor up close, and Chief Rayne just wants Velma to enjoy her retirement and stay out of trouble.

When Ethel begs her to go to the event in hopes of finding herself a man, Velma reluctantly agrees. But when a heavy storm takes out a tree and a bridge, Velma finds herself trapped in Gaines Manor with two dead bodies, one handsome mailman, and a vicious killer. Who said nothing exciting ever happens in Bliss, Texas?