Молли Фитц - Legal Seagull

A New Series from Molly!

A new series from Molly Fitz has arrived!

Don’t worry the Pet Whisperer crew still has plenty of new stories coming your way… But, hey, while you wait, why not get to know Tawny and Mr. Fluffikins?

My name is Tawny Bigford. I’m 35, single, and I love hot showers. Seriously, all I wanted was a hot shower to start my day off right, but when I went to confront my landlady about the broken plumbing, I wound up talking to her corpse instead.

Now everyone thinks I’m to blame for her murder—not the best way to make an impression on the new neighbors, let me tell you. But how can I prove I’m innocent when I know practically nothing about the woman I supposedly killed?

Especially not the fact that she was the official Beech Grove town witch. Her former boss—a snarky black cat named Mr. Fluffikins—says I have to fill her vacated role until the real killer can be caught and brought to justice.

So, whether I like it or not, I’ve just been recruited to the Paranormal Temp Agency. Now I need to solve my landlady’s murder, figure out how to wield my newly granted powers, and maybe even find a way to fit in around here.

Yup. All in a day’s work for this novice witch.

WITCH FOR HIRE is now available.

CLICK HERE to get your copy so that you can start reading Molly’s new series today!

Welcome to Tattered Pages

Curious about the Tattered Pages bookshop where Angie purchased Dr. Roman’s audiobook and first met Bravo? It’s from Shelf Indulgence.

Shelf Indulgence is actually a sister series to Pet Whisperer P.I., and it’s written by my very good friend S.E. Babin. Sometimes places and characters cross over, but each series can be read totally on its own. They’re way more fun together, though.

Now’s a great time to catch up with Shelf Indulgence because the next book in the series is coming very soon.

You’ve already met Dakota and her crazy cat Poppy. Now meet the rest of the gang in this special preview of HARDBACK HOMICIDE. Here’s the first chapter to get you started… Enjoy!

“Pour me another and keep ‘em coming,” I said to my assistant, Harper, as she waved the coffee pot at me. I held out my mug like a dutiful soldier, and Harper poured in the life-giving liquid beans that would enable me to get through another day after yet another sleepless night. I rarely had trouble sleeping. I lived a low-stress life surrounded by good books, a gorgeous, uneventful town, and as much coffee as the local handsome supplier could get me to buy. This meant a lot. He was cute, and he used that and his wonderful beans to prey upon my addiction to java. If he didn’t move out of this town soon, I was going to have to find a coffee drinker’s anonymous group.

I poured in a disturbing amount of cream and a slightly less disturbing amount of sugar and rattled off my daily attack plan to Harper.

“Respond to Jeff’s email today with another big fat no.”

“Check!” said Harper.

“Re-sort the mystery area. Again.” I rolled my eyes. Mrs. Hanson came in again complaining about Jeffery Deaver books getting mixed in with the Agatha Christie’s. Considering the old woman kept buying them, I think she was just trying to blame us for her impulsiveness… and her addiction to mysteries a little more hardcore than good ol’ Ms. Christie.

“Maybe we should just switch out the jackets so she can buy all the Jeffery Deaver books she wants with zero guilt.”

A snort escaped me. “She’ll find something else to complain about. Trust me.”

Harper poured herself another cup of coffee and leaned against the register. Her blonde hair was done up in a messy bun today, just like it was almost every day. Harper was a low maintenance, low everything kind of girl, but I’d seen her get dressed up on a few occasions and she was a total knock-out. Of course, I always thought she looked great even with her old slogan shirts, skinny jeans and black-framed glasses that made her sparkling green eyes look enormous. But Harper wasn’t the kind of person who took compliments graciously. Every time I told her she looked nice, she’d grumble something about not being able to find a hairbrush. I eventually gave up. One day she’d realize the male traffic we had pouring in and out of here on the weekends had a lot less to do with books and a lot more to do with her.

Until then, she was doing a lot for our bottom line because whatever book Harper recommended to those hapless males, they’d happily buy. I learned to keep my amusement to myself over it. Harper was a smart girl, a wonderful employee, and a massive bookworm.

You kind of had to be to work in a shop like this one. Tattered Pages focused on the new, quirky, and the rare. We could order whatever books you needed if we didn’t already have it in stock, and you could read here if you wanted. I made a point of setting up several comfy lounge areas scattered around the store. There were bean bag chairs, recliners, hardback chairs for the strict, and even a small meditation area scattered with zafu cushions and soft pillows.

One thing I didn’t have and was working toward was a small eating area where people could order some coffee and something sweet with their purchase. I hoped to have that up and running within the next few months. Then my dream of owning a bookshop/small cafe would finally be realized.

The other resident of the bookshop sprung up onto the counter and promptly rubbed herself against Harper’s arm. She reached over and gave Poppy a scratch behind the ears. The red Persian came with the store after the old owner passed away. She’d been made part of the sale which I hadn’t been too happy about, but Poppy turned out to be a welcome addition to the Tattered Pages family. The townspeople loved her and, as cats were wont to do, she tolerated them back.

A lot of things had changed for me since I plunked down my entire savings to buy the store. I’d knocked down a few walls and completely renovated the place. I sold most of the stock and replenished it with my own choices. Rare books were kept under lock and key, fitted with a screeching alarm just in case someone tried to pry it open. Nothing like that really happened around Dewdrop Springs, but I wasn’t originally from here, so better safe than sorry for me. I’d grown up several towns away but had lived here for close to ten years now.

My shop was nestled between a cupcake shop and a specialty oil shop. I frequented both of them because: a) I loved cupcakes and b) specialty oils were cool, and the owner made fresh bread every single day and offered it up as samples to dip in the oil.

I could not resist the bread and it was obvious from the extra fifteen pounds I carried around. I didn’t mind much. If I gave up bread, I gave up joy. No one wants to give up joy. So, I continued popping over there a few times a week to see what new thing Jenny had to offer and what new bread recipe she managed to come up with.

Plus, I loved the name, Olive Twist!

The cupcake shop was another demon of its own. I frequented that one almost every day, much to my own chagrin. In my defense, she moved in after I’d bought the store and renamed it. Otherwise, I probably would have found a new location away from such tasty temptation. Sprinkle Heaven was just that. Delicious, frosted heaven.

Trudy was a wizard when it came to cupcakes. From the traditional to the downright bizarre, she cornered the market on unique when it came to the tiny cakes. Plus, even though I couldn’t keep my hands off her treats, she sent business into the store all the time just because people liked to shop after they ate something delicious.

Poppy abruptly dropped and rolled over, exposing her belly to Harper. She grinned and quickly scratched her belly. With Poppy you never knew exactly how much petting she could take before she swiped you with a paw. She was a temperamental beast, but she kept the kids entertained when they came in. It was all I could ask for, really.