When she’s not dreaming up irresistible dessert bars for her Minneapolis treatery, Bar None, Charity “Chase” Oliver is running after her cat, Quincy—a tubby tabby with a gift for sniffing out edibles. But what happens when this cat burglar leads Chase to the scene of a real crime?
The jig is up for Chase’s adorable plus-size cat, Quincy. His new vet says “diet”—that means no more cherry cheesecake bars. From now on he gets low-calorie kibble only. But one taste of the stuff is all it takes to drive him in search of better things. Quincy’s escape is the last thing Chase needs after the nasty run-in she has with underhanded business rival Gabe Naughtly.
Chase tracks Quincy down in a neighbor’s kitchen, where he’s devouring a meatloaf, unaware of the much more serious crime he’s stumbled upon. Gabe’s corpse is lying on the kitchen floor, and when Chase is discovered at the murder scene, she becomes suspect number one. Now, with a little help from her friends—both human and feline—she’ll have to catch the real killer or wind up behind bars that aren’t so sweet.
Includes recipes for people and cats!
Other than the
animal rescue shelter in Chicago where Chase Oliver picked him up, you mean? I
was lucky enough to be the caretaker and servant to two rescued feral cats not
long ago. One of them was Quincy’s prototype. They came to me pre-named by the
woman who was fostering them, and the names were perfect.
The slim,
handsome fellow, a Russian Blue with thick, dense fur, did have a name change
before we got him. He was first named Lady Jane Grey (look for this name in the
second Fat Cat book, FAT CAT SPREADS OUT). However, by the time it became
evident that he needed a new name, he answered to Jane. His name was changed to
James because he would answer to that one, too. I sometimes called him Sir
James because of his regal composure.
His litter mate
was named Agamemnon and that name stuck. He was a mighty little warrior, just
like the ancient Greek, and he was so smart it was almost creepy. Agamemnon had
to be my model for Quincy. It was a natural fit.
That guy was hard
to entertain. If you dragged a feather toy, he leapt a couple of times, then
followed the string with his eyes up to the stick, then to my hand. “Ho hum,” I
could hear him thinking as he quit playing and washed his face. “This is just her. Not a bird at all. No wonder it
doesn’t smell right.”
He was quite young
back in the days when Elf Bowling was popular. The first time he heard me
finish the game and make Santa pop up saying “Ho ho ho,” he was instantly in my
lap, staring at the bobbing Santa and swiping at it with his paw. The next time
I played, he was in my lap to begin with, intensely interested in the whole
thing. How could I not let him play? The player bowled the ball at the taunting
elves by hitting the space bar. If you hit it at the right time, you got a
strike. I would hold Agamemnon’s paw over the space bar and “help” him by
pushing it down the best I could to get him strikes and spares. He would, no
lie, play an entire ten frame game waiting for the Santa finish.
More than once,
when I would be in the bedroom with the door closed, he would jump onto the
cedar chest beside the door and try to open it. He would curve his paw over the
doorknob and attempt to turn it. He knew exactly how to open the door!
Physically, he couldn’t do it, but he sure knew how.
That first scene
in FAT CAT AT LARGE where Quincy unzips his soft-sided carrier from the inside?
Yep, Agamemnon is where that came from. He was hard to crate to begin with, but
when I finally got both of them crated and was gathering my purse and phone and
car keys to take them to the vet for shots, it was dismaying to find
Agamemnon’s crate empty and gaping open.
Also, like
Quincy, Agamemnon stayed on the pudgy side. He loved to eat. His brother,
James, was always slim and trim, but Agamemnon, a sleek all-black beauty with
shiny fur (James’s looked like matte next to his glossy finish), was hard to
take and keep the pounds off. He never got too heavy to leap to the top of any
piece of furniture in the house, though.
He also loved to
attack the paper as it came out of the printer. Quincy hasn’t done that yet,
but, come to think of it, he should.
It’s been fun to
resurrect my memories of the smartest cat I ever knew and let him live again
through Quincy. I love being a writer!
The mystery is great. Just when I'm convinced I know who the culprit is, the story takes a left turn and I'm back to square one. It's very well written and I cannot wait for the next book in this fabulous new series!
Rating: 5 stars
I received a copy of this book from the publisher in exchange for an honest review. All conclusions reached are my own.
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1 comments:
I can't find the "like" link, only the "friend." I don't like to friend an author because then we get so many posts of each other's that are not relevant.
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