Showing results by author "Molly Fitz" in All Categories

My name is Gracie Springs, and I am not a witch… but I’m pretty sure my cat is. I first started to get suspicious when he jumped just a little too high while chasing after a robin in our front yard. I knew for sure when he opened up his mouth and addressed me by name! The first thing he told me? That he doesn’t like the name I gave him—even though “Fluffy” fits him like a warm sweater at Christmas. Now we’ve compromised on “Merlin the Magical Fluff,” which according to him references his long and proud lineage just fine.

Apparently, I've been slacking on the job as a paralegal, even though the firm doesn't know that I'm secretly working as the area's premier Pet Whisperer P.I. to solve our toughest cases behind the scenes. Now, they've hired an intern to "help" me manage my workload.... But what the partners don't realize is that they've let a nefarious criminal into our offices. Trust me, Octo-Cat can smell this guy's stink from a mile away. The worst part? I'm pretty sure he can talk to animals too...and he most definitely isn't using his talents to solve crimes and defend the innocent.

I was just your normal twentysomething with seven associate degrees and no idea what I wanted to do with my life. That is, until I died...Well, almost. As if a near-death experience at the hands of an old coffeemaker wasn't embarrassing enough, I woke up to find I could talk to animals. Or rather one animal in particular. I've taken to calling him Octo-Cat. He talks so fast he can be difficult to understand, but seems to be telling me that his late owner didn't die of natural causes like everyone believes.

Is this nosy trash panda a sleuth or a suspect? Lately my life has seemed pretty perfect-great house, great gig as my own boss, great new boyfriend, and the world's most awesome talking cat. Turns out I shouldn't have let my guard down. Even though my private investigation firm is brand new, I've already got some not-so-friendly competition, and it's coming from the sticky-fingered raccoon who lives under my front porch. I have no doubt he's robbing his clients since he's stealing from mine, too.

Mr. Fluffikins is the small black cat responsible for overseeing the most powerful supernatural beings in the small Southern town of Beech Grove. He’s also charged with keeping the world of magic hidden from those without it. Enter Tawny Bigford. She’s a snarky part-time novelist who’s both new in town and about to stumble headfirst into a magical murder investigation. What’s a bureaucratic cat to do? Well, he might as well hire her as a temp to keep her close until all this funny murder business is solved.

Ever since Angie Russo woke up from a near fatal run-in with a coffee maker, she's been able to talk to - and even worse, understand - one very spoiled tabby named Octavius. He says his owner was murdered and that she's the only one who can help bring the killer to justice. And, well, that's just the first of the wonderfully whacky mysteries they solve together. Add in a traumatized terrier witness and two murderous Sphynx cats who speak only in riddles, toss on your favorite deerstalker cap, and let's go sleuthing!

I'm finally coming to terms with the fact I can speak to animals, even though the only one who ever talks back is the crabby tabby I've taken to calling Octo-Cat. What I haven't quite worked out is how to hide my secret. Now one of the associates at my law firm has discovered this strange new talent of mine and insists I use it to help defend his client against a double murder charge. To make things worse, Octo-Cat has no intention of helping either of us.

Nan and I discover that someone has been embezzling funds from the local animal shelter. If we can't find the culprit soon, the shelter may not be able to keep its lights on and those poor homeless pets won't have anywhere to go.

In the sleepy Georgian town of Elderberry Heights, danger lurks around every counter but the laughs are never far behind. Join Merlin and his sidekick Gracie as they fight off evil ex-girlfriends, vicious ghosts, and even a horde of zombie squirrels.

I never signed up to be a private investigator with a snarky, talking cat for a partner, but there's no backing down now. Especially considering a prominent politician was murdered pretty much right in my backyard. The only witnesses were the senator's two hairless cats, Jacques and Jillianne. Normally pets want to help us solve their owner's murders, but this time it seems the two devious felines might actually be the ones who committed it....

Octo-Cat is gone, and all the evidence suggests that he was taken on purpose. With the growing number of people the two of us have put behind bars, it's no surprise that someone's out for revenge. But how will I ever manage to solve this particular crime without the help of my partner? The only other person who might be able to help me just relocated to Georgia. But I'm desperate enough to try anything, including exposing my secret to the whole of Blueberry Bay. Anything to bring him home safe.

My name is Gracie Springs, and I am not a witch...but I’m pretty sure my cat is. I first started to get suspicious when he jumped just a little too high while chasing after a robin in our front yard. I knew for sure when he opened up his mouth and addressed me by name! The first thing he told me? That he doesn’t like the name I gave him - even though “Fluffy” fits him like a warm sweater at Christmas. Now we’ve compromised on “Merlin the Magical Fluff”, which according to him references his long and proud lineage just fine.