“Hurry up!” I shouted to my fur sibs. “We’re gonna be late!”
“We can’t be late,” Opie contradicted. “A picnic starts when we get there.”
“The picnic starts when we open the picnic basket,” Dori corrected. She had a package of Smittens in her paws. I doubt her tummy is ever empty.
Hi! I’m Herman, a Turkish Angora known as @TattleCat on Twitter. I help my author mom write books, and I purrformed in the 5-star children’s book, FINDING MYA. When Mom decided to write mysteries, I opened the Wonderpurr Detective Agency to learn about the hardboiled crime business. Then I got my first case. It involved busting ghosts. That’s how I got to be the almost-famous purranormal detective known as Sherlock Herms.
I flicked my floofy tail with impatience. Not for the picnic to start…although the aroma of the fried chicken my sisfur Gidget had prepared was making me drool. No, I was impatient to get to the woods where my friend Charley was waiting for us to find him.
Charley Feeble wasn’t exactly lost. You see, seventy-some years ago he was a detective known as Maxwell Shallowford. Charley has some kind of phobia that makes him so shy, he pretends to be someone else. I met Charley during my second case, Mrs. Shallowford’s Ghost. Charley was the ghost. He died from heart failure caused by a demon masquerading as a crabby lady with a loud voice. To better understand what I’m meowing about, you’re welcome to review my case notes for Mrs. Shallowford’s Ghost.
Since Charley is dead…he can no longer work as a hardboiled detective, so he’s teaching me the biz. He said he would also teach me about the spirit world, but we weren’t learning about ghosts today. Last Friday Charley gave me a lesson on Surveillance. Today I’m taking my fursibs into the woods to have a picnic, and while we’re there we’re going to hunt for Charley. Read More