About the Book

The life of a cat groomer isn’t just pampering purring felines, it's murder.

Mobile Cat Groomer Molly Stewart loves her job. Until she finds the dead body of one of her pet parents stabbed with a garden implement in his back yard. When Molly’s uncle Russ becomes the prime suspect in the murder and the sheriff won’t consider anyone else, Molly claws through obstacles as she prowls for clues.

With help from handsome veterinarian Hank Chenowith and Molly’s two cats, Percival and Jasper, will Molly succeed in proving her uncle’s innocence before the real murderer pounces on her?

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Excerpt

The supermarket was a few blocks away. I’d been known to go by foot if I only needed one or two items, but today I was going for the big kitty haul. I’d purchase anything I could think of to help the current mayhem at my house.

I’d already placed litter, a litter box, and cat food in my cart when I rounded the corner. To my surprise, standing in the middle of the aisle, eyeing the toys, was Hank. I was still a little miffed about his comments at his office concerning Durbin. Right now, though, I needed his advice. Swallow your pride. At least for a little bit. “Hey, Hank.”

He jerked, as if startled. “Oh, hey. I was just looking at….”

When I reached him, it was hard not to laugh. In front of him was a rack of pink fluffy feathered cat toys. Some even had sparkly fake gems that winked in the overhead fluorescent light. “Like pink, do we?”

His face turned precisely that color. “It’s not for me. It’s for Beatrice.”

I tilted my head. “Don’t remember you’ve ever mentioned anyone by that name. Is she pretty? Have you been seeing her long?”

“She’s a cat.”

I snorted. “Yeah, okay. Have a new fluffy love of your life now?”

“I got her a couple months ago from the shelter. She’s really cute. A tortoiseshell. You’d love her.”

Although it was obvious from the way he cared for Percival when he had his regular checkups that Hank liked cats, I’d never heard the guy gush about anything before.

“I’m sure I would love her. Anything to do with cats. You know me.” I bit my lip. It made it sound like he and I were close. Like he’d automatically know what I liked and what I didn’t. Wait, why was I so defensive? I did run a cat grooming salon after all. Why did interacting with Hank outside his office make me nervous?

About the Author

Ruth J. Hartman spends her days herding cats and her nights spinning mysterious tales. She, her husband, and their cats love to spend time curled up in their recliners watching old Cary Grant movies. Well, the cats sit in the people’s recliners. Not that the cats couldn’t get their own furniture. They just choose to shed on someone else’s.

Ruth, a left-handed, cat-herding, farmhouse-dwelling writer uses her sense of humor as she writes tales of lovable, klutzy women who seem to find trouble without even trying.

Ruth’s husband and best friend, Garry, reads her manuscripts, rolls his eyes at her weird story ideas, and loves her despite her insistence all of her books have at least one cat in them. See updates about her cozy mysteries at Ruthjhartman.com.

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