Maggie Pill Mysteries

 Here's Lorilee Riley's Rogues' Gallery. Can you name all 8 cats? A. B. C. D. E. F. G.   H.       Answers below, and here's a review of the book, in case the cats haven't convinced you. Cats and Crimes by Maggie Pill is an enjoyable read and much more than just a murder mystery. The story centers around Lorilee, a seventy-something woman learning to live alone after the recent and unexpected loss of her husband. Jess is a 17-year-old kid who has run away from home ... Their friendship and bond came from their love of cats. Lorilee has several and Jess has found a job and home with the local veterinarian. When Regina Dean’s body is found in Lorilee’s garden one morning, the adventure begins. Lorilee feels the police are not doing enough to find the killer and she enlists Jess as her helper to find answers and the killer. They form a strong bond and become like family to each other as they interview possible suspects. The love of cats, a noisy neighbor, a kind vet

I found a better image online of my imagined version of Albert, a cat shaped like a soccer ball, but I couldn't reach the rights holder to get permission to use it, so here's my second choice. He's based on a combination of cats I've known, some large, some black, and some too lazy to move. Albert is huge. We've all seen a cat like him, one that looks more like a blimp than a pet. Albert's weight makes him lethargic, which creates a loser's circle: too heavy to move around much, the only exercise he enjoys is eating, overeating adds to his weight problem. Lorilee, the protagonist in Cats and Crimes , blames Albert's former owner, who equated food with love. Once any being, cat, dog, or person, gives in to gluttony, it's very hard to change. I guess what I'm saying is that Fat Albert will never be svelte. Once again, here's the link to the book. Pre-order now or buy it on November 15, 2022: https://books2read.com/u/3LVEz7

 Cat lovers hate to admit it, but there are cats who are just plain mean. I submit they have reasons for it, some of which we can figure out, some we can't.  My daughter adopted a cat in Bahrain that was a perfect example of meanness. Like Professor Higgins in Pygmalion, he hated everyone. The reason, she was told, was that he'd been kept in a box for the first few years of his life, and probably mistreated as well.  He was beautiful, much like the cat in the photo above, though he was a gray. My daughter was good to him, and he learned after a few months that he could move around the house (He spent a long time hiding in a closet.) and trust her not to abuse him. This led the cat (Taz, short for Tasmanian Devil) to bond with her AND HER ALONE. The rest of us were fair game. If we walked along the upstairs hallway, he was liable to be lurking, and he'd jump out and slice our ankles bloody. If we came too close, he hissed and growled like a movie monster. And we knew never t

 Cats and Crimes is a labor of love in that the cats in the book are animals I remember from a lifetime of being a cat lover. While I never had a one-eyed cat, I had friends who did, so I shamelessly borrowed him for the book. The protagonist, Lorilee Riley, adopts cats that others won't take, since she doesn't mind adapting to their disabilities. In the story, Mayson is a kitten (his mother is May, get it?) who's deaf and has only one eye. He makes life interesting by making up his own rules, as kittens tend to do. Mayson wants to be outside, but like many youngsters, he doesn't think very far ahead, so if and when he gets his way, he find reality more difficult than expected. Like Tigger in the Winnie-the-Pooh stories, he's lovable but sometimes exasperating. In case I haven't mentioned it often enough, here's the link to pre-order Cats and Crimes, which releases in print and e-book Tuesday, November 15, 2022. https://books2read.com/u/3LVEz7

All cats believe they're superior beings. Siamese cats take it a step farther--whatever is beyond superior, that's them. Maew, the Siamese in Cats and Crimes, is based on a guy we shared lodgings with in my youth. I have no idea where Ching-a-Ling came from, but he was a force to be reckoned with. I grew up on a farm, so our cats were mostly the outdoor kind, given shelter in exchange for keeping down the number of mice in the barns and grain sheds. How Ching got to be an indoor pet I don't recall. He probably just willed it that way. As Maew does in the book, Ching could reach the top of a built-in bookshelf in the living room without making a noise or letting anyone see him do it. (Looking back, he probably liked the warmer temperatures up there, because our house was drafty.) He spent his days looking down on all of us, seldom moving, so he often appeared to first-time visitors to be a large cat figurine. Ching had the yowl typical of Siamese, and he used it to let us k