Good morning. Nutty here. For those of you who don’t know me (and I can’t imagine there are many of you) I’m the star of the Organic Mysteries (check out my debut in Kneading to Die, out this week!). I know most people think my mom, Stan, is the star, but anyone who knows cats - especially Maine coons - knows better.
We moved to Frog Ledge this weekend. I didn’t really want to move, at first. The apartment we lived in was small, but I had my sun spots all set up and I knew where my treat jars were. They were positioned so I could work the tops off. My mom thought she was slick, but she clearly doesn’t understand how superior I am. Getting those tops off was simple - and it took her a while to catch on before she hid the treat jars in the cabinet. Oh well.
So we moved here. The house is nice. It’s much bigger, and I have my new sun spots picked out already. My favorite is on the top of my cat tree in the sunroom. It was the first piece of furniture my mom had the movers put up. All the birds and squirrels come to visit. It makes me want to bust through the window and chase them. Which I probably won’t do, because that would be a lot of work. I have to admit, I’ve gotten lazy since I became an indoor cat. (I am getting some exercise using the stairs here, though.) At first I wasn’t sure how I felt about the indoor cat thing, but being outside wasn’t all it’s cracked up to be. Tough guys like me aren’t supposed to say that, so don’t tell! But I do like it in the house, even though I have to pretend like I’d go outside if I had the chance. Once I escaped and made my mom chase me. It was funny. I let her catch me. I really didn’t run that fast. I could’ve been gone if I’d really wanted to be. But I’ve grown accustomed to the perks of indoor life. It’s nice because my mom makes all my food and my treats, and she’s a really good cook. My tummy doesn’t hurt anymore like it used to. And best of all, being an indoor cat means I don’t have to be on the lookout for animals who want to eat me or for crazy drivers. That’s how I got here. Did you know that? I had a less than optimal experience trying to cross the street in front of a BMW when my mom found me. My butt got clipped and it really screwed up my day. My tail was dragging and everything, and I have a snazzy tail that I like to keep plumed nice and high to show it off. Anyway, I happened to plant myself in my mom’s yard at the old house to nurse my wounds, and she saw me and came to see what was wrong. That was when she asked me to move in with her. I figured, she had good treats. What would it hurt? But, I digress.
My mom has already made some friends in our new town. Unfortunately, she’s already met some fruits too. Like the crazy lady with the hair who came over here, stuck her hand in my treat jar and didn’t even bother to feed me a treat! Turned out, she’s a vet. Now I hear I have to go see her tomorrow. So I’m plotting my best hiding place to try to foil that plan. Another good point about a big house - lots more places to hide! My mom thinks I don’t know what she’s talking about when she makes these plans. She tries to spell things, or whisper, but again, she’s underestimating my genius. I can tell by the tone of her voice, by the way she’s acting. When she’s too sweet, it raises my suspicions.
I hate going to the vet. Especially the ones with needles. I like my other kind of vet better - the natural one. I don’t know why I’m not going to her instead of this crazy one. Aside from my normal hatred of the vet, I have a bad feeling about this visit. But my mom doesn’t want to listen to me. She just thinks I’m being manipulative ‘cause I hate my carrier. Well, I usually am, but still. She should listen to me. I’m pretty darn smart. It’s how I survived outside so long until my run-in with that car.
Anyway, I hear my bowls downstairs. Must be dinner time. I saw her cooking up a new batch of ground turkey and spinach earlier, and we have pumpkin treats for dessert. I need to go get ready for my meal!
Thanks for visiting with me, and I hope you’ll join my mom and I in Frog Ledge soon. We have some pretty fun adventures coming your way. I’ll give you a hint - there are dogs involved. Ugh.
Kneading to Die is the first in the Organic Mysteries, available May 7.
Liz is a corporate communications consultant and animal lover from the Boston, Mass. area, whose canine and feline rescues demand the best organic food and treats around. She’s also a former journalist, marketing and PR specialist, and assistant to a homeopathic veterinarian. Currently based near Hartford, Conn., she’s had plenty of exposure to the small town craziness of the Nutmeg State, and saw numerous opportunities for murder.
The first book in an exciting new cozy mystery series, featuring a gourmet pet food chef and her Maine coon cat, Nutty, is set in a New England storybook town that may not be so idyllic.
Maybe the best thing that ever happened to Kristan "Stan" Connor was losing her high-stress public relations job. Now there's plenty of time to spend in her sleepy new Connecticut town working on her dream: baking healthy, organic pet treats!
Before long the neighborhood dogs are escaping their yards to show up at Stan's doorstep, begging for the kinds of homemade treats her Maine coon cat Nutty loves so much. Stan's pet-loving neighbors are thrilled with the new options available to their furry family members, but not everyone loves Stan and her newfangled ways.
It seems Carole Morganwick, the town vet, is from the old school of pet care. When Stan swallows her pride and brings a very unwilling Nutty in for a checkup, she not only finds Carole dead under a pile of kibble - she's the prime suspect!
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