The Feline Foible: The Magi-Cat Mystery, #1

By Rosie A. Point and Allie Katt

From a USA Today bestseller and an exciting new author!

Want to know a secret? Cats are magical. And they solve murders…

 

My name is Snugglewumps McGee and for the past five years I've been keeping my cat magic under wraps. Why go out of my way to solve crimes when there are tummy scratches and warm laps to enjoy?

 

At least, that's what I think until our local medium, a pretentious tabby cat with a penchant for coughing up truth balls, arrives with troubling news.

 

Magical doom is on the horizon for our small town, and my human, the purveyor of food and cuddles, will be caught in the cross-fur.

 

So, I guess it's time for my first magic trick. Convincing a human that she's not hallucinating when I start talking.

 

And that she's got to help a grumpy cat solve the crime of the century before it takes place.

 

Can Snugglewumps and the gang solve the mystery and save the town before it's too late? Grab your copy of the first in this magical kitty cozy mystery today and find out.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Rosie A. Point
• Release date: May 6, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223895749

Book preview

One

I didn’t think you were the murdering type. The mouse considered me with beady black eyes.

I had one paw on his tail, the other resting casually on the wooden boards in the Whisper Coat Inn. The mouse had a point. I wasn’t the murdering type. I was the clean my fur, lying on a sun-filled bench by a window with a view of the gorgeous landscape type. Preferably after a delicious meal served to me by the inn owner, Cindy, and a few belly scratches.

I was so not cut out for this whole pest control gig.

Come on, man, the mouse said, I know you’re not like those other toms. Just… How about you gimme a break, all right? I’ll go easy on the cheese.

The mouse had a thick New York accent and a deep voice. Most of the mice I’d encountered had sounded the same—which figured, since the Whisper Coat Inn was located in the mystical town of Whisper, New York. Though that didn’t necessarily explain how deep the mouse’s voice was. You’d think a voice like that would’ve come out of a dog or a mafioso from one of those movies Cindy binge-watched on her lonely Fridays.

I have you right where I want you, I said lazily. What makes you think I’ll let you go?

Because you’re better than this man. Real talk? We both know you ain’t gonna eat me. You’re the type of tom who likes his food pre-chewed.

Is that a hint of derision I detect? I asked.

The mouse gave two unreasonably deep clears of his tiny throat. No. Nothing like that, he said. I just mean, what’s the point in getting your paws dirty? You’ve got better things to be doing, don’t ya?

Another good point. But if Tortellini, the Russian Blue who shared the inn with me, found out I’d not only used magic to catch the mouse—just a hint of extra speed—but that I’d let him go right after? I’d never live it down.

Recently, he’d been giving me a hard time about my laziness. And he’d been threatening to report me to the Ministry of Felines for not doing my job. That job being solving murder cases and catching mice. If he did that, well, I’d lose my license to magic, and life without feline magic was… They might as well turn me into a dog and send me off to a farm to lick my nether regions.

I shuddered at the thought. I can’t let you go.

Come on, man, the mouse replied. I’ve got a family.

A family! There’s more of you? Cindy screamed blue murder and jumped up on the kitchen counters at the sight of one mouse.

Look, we live right down the hall, but I’ll tell you what, man, you drop me off outside, and I won’t tell nobody what you done for me. I’ll take the family and move into the garden shed. That’s far enough away, right?

I really didn’t want to get blood on my claws. And then there was the whole responsibility for having taken a life thing. Not my deal. I never understood how Tortellini couldn’t grasp the irony of solving murder cases one day and killing mice the next.

You swear you won’t come back? I asked.

The mouse hesitated.

Swear it, I said.

What’s your name, mister? I seen you around the place, but we’ve never had the pleasure of making an acquaintance of each other.

Now, it was my turn to hesitate. Humans had a horrible habit of giving regal feline specimens, such as myself, stupid names. And because of the magic that binds cats to humans, we couldn’t change them. Snuggs, I said. You can call me Snuggs.

Snuggs? What kind of name is that?

This is a lot of insulting for a mouse who is about to get chewed up and regurgitated. Mouse fur didn’t agree with me. Though, there was the added bonus of watching Cindy clean up my mess afterward.

I’m Angelo, he said. Angelo D’Tail. And I swear on my tail and my two front teeth that I won’t come back in the house, apart from when Cindy gets a new shipment of cheese.

The brie. She’s got a thing for brie.

And so do I, Angelo said. Heck, I’ll even fake my death if you need me to.

I considered it. Tortellini really would report me if he found out about this. But Angelo had a family, for cream’s sake. Fine, I said, at last. I’ll cut you a break, this time. But if I catch you in the kitchen again, you might not be so lucky. Get your family and follow me outside. I lifted my paw off his tail.

In true, arrogant mouse form, he lingered. You’re swell, Mr. Snuggs. Just swell.

Yeah. Yeah. I licked my paw, cleaning it of his filth. Make it snappy or I might just change my mind.

Angelo skittered off, and I sat down on the runner carpet in the center of the hallway. The sound of pots and pans clanging in the kitchen was a welcome backdrop. Cindy was preparing breakfast for her guests—there were only three of them this week—and that meant food for Tortellini and I right after.

I licked the ginger fur along my leg, absently, then started on my chest. Once I got started on one spot I felt compelled to clean the rest of it. According to Tortellini, cleaning fur was both therapeutic and a fantastic way to replenish one's magic.

Whisper, New York, was one of the most magical places in the state—not that many of the humans knew it. Most witches and