ROCCO gets down and dirty with...MIDNIGHT LOUIE!

Aha, it's the interview you've been panting for, kitties! I get down and dirty with that fleet-footed, short, dark and undeniably charming star of his own mystery series - MIDNIGHT LOUIE!

But first, a bit about Ms. Carole Nelson Douglas! (who collaborates with Louie!)

Photo credit: Sam Douglas

Carole Nelson was born in Everett, Washington. She received a bachelor of arts degrees in Speech and Theater and English Literature from the University of St. Catherine in 1966. She sold a paperback original novel, Amberleigh (1980), to Jove and a fantasy, Six of Swords (1982) and its sequels, to Del Rey Books. Douglas became a fulltime fiction writer in 1984.  Douglas had incorporated animals since her first novel (there was an Irish wolfhound in Amberleigh, a King Charles spaniel in the next historical, Fair Wind, Fiery Star (1981). So little surprise she began to write about Midnight Louie, the twenty-pound black tomcat with the wit of Damon Runyon. The cat was based on a true-life cat who made his home at a motel, and truly munched on the fish in the reflective pond. The owners had no use for the cat, but a sympathetic woman retrieved and cared for the feline — and Douglas interviewed the woman and cat for a story for the St. Paul newspaper she worked for at the time. Douglas later came to own a number of rescue cats, including one she named Midnight Louie Jr.

and a bit about our star himself....

Midnight Louie first appeared in romantic suspense novels, Crystal Days and Crystal Nights (1990). “I just moved Louie and his carp pond to the abandoned (fictional) Joshua Tree hotel on the Las Vegas Strip, which was remodeled into the (fictional) Crystal Phoenix, the classiest hotel in Vegas, with Midnight Louie as ‘unofficial house dick.” 

Louie is, by his own description, short, dark and unobtrusive. He's a twenty pound (give or take a pound) jet black tomcat with all of his assets intact (for the most part - he has had a vasectomy).  He talks like a detective out of a forties pulp novel.  Plus, he’s remarkably light on his feet and he can shimmy into places Columbo would never dare to tread.  Louie is the first furpurrson of mystery, or as he puts it, the star of his own multivolume mystery series. And make no mistake about it, Louis is THE star, even though at times he finds himself sharing center stage with some very interesting humans.

  and now...I"m so excited! I interview the one, the only....MIDNIGHT LOUIE himself!

R:  Midnight Louie, my idol!  It’s such a huge pleasure to meet you – tell me, when did you first realize you had a flair for PI work?

L: Thank you, ROCCO, for inviting me on your show. Oh, it is Miss Toni LoTiempo’s blog? Forgive me, but I am an old-fashioned sort of guy and I think it is your show.

Well, like all kits, I chased my own tail, but I wised up way earlier than most that it was self-defeating. This was after my father, Three O’clock Louie, left my ma flat with a six-pack of kits after a one-night stand. Ma did her best, but we all had to make it on our own at an early age. I quickly found that tailing humans got me a better class of Dumpster leavings. After I discovered the Chinese chef’s koi pond at the Crystal Phoenix Hotel and Casino on the Las Vegas Strip, I set up shop as unofficial hotel house detective there, and kept the rats (human and otherwise) off the premises. I also learned to outrun any hurled meat cleaver in town.

With the entire Strip at my disposal, my inborn street smarts soon attained an air of savoir faire. I was quite the dude about town. Then, I was casing a big Vegas book convention for lunch leavings and was spotted. During my escape attempt, I ran straight into a dead body.  Miss Temple Barr, the petite but feisty redhead in charge of public relations for the event, quickly found me, and the corpse. The dead guy was soon morgue-bound. I was captured and animal pound-bound . . . until I charmed the Jimmy Choos off Miss Temple by helping her solve the crime and save her own life. 

In late October, that first case of my series (formerly titled Catnap), will be out in eBook with a new title: Cat in an Alphabet Soup, along with Cat in an Aqua Storm (formerly Pussyfoot). So, Rocco, how do you like my new cover model shots and these "in progress" covers?  I'd love your opinion (and your readers too, of course!)

R:  Those covers are pretty cool!  Speaking for myself, I prefer Alpha cover numero uno (no legs). Why detract from your catly self?

L: Heh, heh, quite true! I didn't think of that!(And Miss Carole probably didn't either!) The rest of the series is:  Cat on a Blue Monday, Cat in a Crimson Haze, Cat in a Diamond Dazzle and Cat in an Emerald Eye, and so on. You may spot a title pattern here. I am currently helping Miss Carole write Cat in a Yellow Fever.

R: I know how grueling that can be.  I help The Human (Miss Toni) write her Nick and Nora mysteries as well.

L:  A tough job, but someone has to do it, right? Anyway, Miss Temple Barr was recently single when we met, so moving in with her gave me a more, ahem, intimate base of operations. Our relationship is strictly platonic, though.  (I heard I was replacing a sleek green-eyed, black-haired dude named Max, who went out one day and never came back.) I have his coloring, but know better than to run out on a sweet situation. My Miss Temple gives me more than half the king-size bed, leaves the bathroom window open for my comings and goings on night detecting (and other) excursions, ladles shrimp over my politically correct but obnoxious Free-to-Be-Feline health food, and gives me control of the TV remote. What more could a guy ask?

R: Out of all the cases you’ve solved, which one stands out in your mind as your most challenging?

 L: It is hard to pick. In Cat in a Leopard Spot I had to defend a performing leopard charged with murder and interrupt an illegal canned hunt by making the cowardly “hunters” my prey. In Cat in a Jeweled Jumpsuit I was dealing with a raft of Elvis impersonators, aka tribute artists, and possible sightings of The King himself. I had to interrogate an anaconda in that one, and I was in quite a tight corner there.

I do not talk to humans on principal, but I can communicate with different species. Each one is a challenge once you get beyond your usual cats and dogs. It is fortunate that I write my own separate chapters to describe my doings, as I go where the action is. Or vice versa. It is not just a matter of clueing my people in on evidence and perps. Often I risk life and nail sheaths to physically “nail” the bad guys. I have had to break into the animal pound, which is risky. In my latest oeuvre, Cat in an Alien X-Ray, I had to break into the morgue. Those heavy steel doors could trap a dude where he would not be found until he is an ice cube.

R: You have quite a way with the ladies – what do you attribute that to?

L: For human ladies, it is their fabled weakness for fur coats. When I give them one of my famous calf massages, they nearly swoon. Since I am well-traveled and unfailingly the gentleman, the ladies are so much on my side that some would like to “save” me from myself. They are always trying to pick me up, with good intentions, but I am not going into any homeless shelter. I am much safer as a free agent, although it is the rare dude of my breed who can say that. As I tell my readers and cats everywhere: I am a professional. Do not do as I do. Just sit back and watch.

For the feline set, I am quite the courtly gentleman when I need to be. It helps that I developed a youthful crush on a shaded silver Persian belonging to a fading movie actress, Miss Savannah Ashleigh. The lithesome Yvette has always been “the Divine” in my books. In her honor, I must live up to my ideal and treat every street-worn little doll as a lady of the first rank.

As for females of other species . . .

ROCCO: No, don’t tell me!

L: The true romantic gentleman rover does not discriminate. Ladies of all species welcome considerate attention and do not get enough of it.

R:  You’ve been with your Miss Temple Barr quite a while now – what was the biggest adjustment you had to make in cohabitating with a human?

L: Miss Temple is a superior human--super smart, full of heart and true grit despite her petite size. She may look cute and fluffy, but she is a human terrier primed to root out crime and associated vermin, like murderers. However . . . she has this high heel thing, obviously a defensive mechanism to compensate for her five-feet-0 height. I myself am used to being short, dark and handsome, and have found my lower stature useful for PI work. She, though, must collect these fancy spike shoes (she is quite the vintage clothing collector), and does throw tantrums when I select one for a wee bit of gum exercise. (The interior odor is catnip to me.) Or when I find a silk dress to settle onto for a luxurious paw-pummel and midday nap. 

R:  You can speak frankly with me, Louie…(ROCCO arches eyebrow!) which of Miss Temple’s suitors is your favorite, and why?

L: Miss Midnight Louise, my purported daughter, claims I am partial to Mr. Max Kinsella. Obviously, we are the same sort of handsome, mysterious hip cat. He is a Vegas Strip-class magician, but has a hazy past in undercover events abroad. I believe he was a counter-terrorist agent.

On the other hand, Louise has gone ga-ga over a shaded golden male and Miss Temple’s new neighbor after Mr. Max vanished, Mr. Matt Devine. He is a radio hotline counselor, also with a secret and surprising past, and is in Las Vegas on a personal mission with a dark side. He has a lot to overcome and there is not a female around who would not love to be his helpmate, from Midnight Louise to Miss Temple Barr.

My first loyalty is to Miss Temple. If either of these guys endangers her, he is mincemeat, and I have the sixteen concealed shivs to ensure that. If, sadly, she takes one into our home, I will adjust to sharing the zebra-stripe comforter I look so well upon with the lucky upstart.

R: Tell us about your latest adventure, Cat in an Alien X-Ray! Aliens? Really? Are you getting into an X-file kind of thing now?

L: Think about it:  in the classic X-Files TV show you have agent Fox Mulder, curious as heck, dark, and sexy, intent on probing every corner of possibly paranormal life and crime. And you have his foxy red-headed partner, Dana Scully, a skeptic who needs to be shown the light in order to believe the truth is out there. Obviously, I and my Miss Temple Barr are the reincarnation of that classic duo, except that I have fur and we both have better-sounding names. I mean, Molder and Skully. Sounds like a series about a couple of medical examiners.

Also, Las Vegas is a neighbor to Area 51, and the sort of news stories that come out from the Strip definitely catalogue some very alien goings on. So when tourists are capturing photos of hovering UFOs over the Strip in Cat in an Alien X-Ray, it isn’t surprising that UFO nuts, conspiracy theorists, and science fiction aficionados converge on Vegas, with the result of two dead bodies and new cases for me and my four human cohorts to solve. I might add that while Miss Temple and Matt Devine are skilled amateur detectives, Mr. Max Kinsella and Miss Lt. C. R. Molina are pros, but everyone still needs my help, whether they know or admit it, or not. 

Also lurking out there, besides the truth, is a demented former IRA terrorist who is stalking all my favorite folks. Think of my adventures as a three-year TV series with an ensemble cast: lots of story arcs and character building, but also plenty of danger, mystery, humor and heart. Since my alphabetical series is nearing Book Z, subplots are tying up as the main characters head towards . . . Armageddon or closure. Not to worry, I write a prologue, “Previously in Midnight Louie’s Life and Times,” that brings new readers up to date in the series, and a lot of readers enjoy rereading the whole thing time and again. What can I say? The ladies love my massage skills and instinct for the sweet spot and the guys like to prowl the Vegas byways through my feline-noir, hairy-chested, hard-boiled viewpoint. 

R: So which one will it be for you – Solange, Yvette – or perhaps some cute kitten we have yet to meet?

L: There are eight million people in the Naked City, as they say about NYC. In Las Vegas, there are about eight enchanting feline dames I have met over the course of my adventures that I would foxtrot to North Pole to save. Call me undecided. I am free, black, and nowhere near 21.

R:  What are your plans for the future, Louie? Do you see retirement anywhere in there?  And if so, would you be willing to take a charming, albeit tubby tuxedo under your wing?

L: My life and times will not end at Book Z. My fan base would not allow it. No, I shall have to suffer picking up long-tailed ladies in distress and succulent leavings from the best Vegas restaurants, roaming back allies and major Vegas entertainment venues at my midnight hour, snoozing under the canna lilies and taking a dip in the Crystal Phoenix koi pool by day, and doing mixed marital arts at the drop of murder victim.

It is a demanding life, but mine own. I would not mind your company, ROCCO, since you are always attired for upscale Vegas action, rather like James Bond (to whom I have been compared, along with Sherlock Holmes, Sam Spade, Columbo, and Mike Hammer). I would trot any ugly extra pounds off you in no time, ROCCO. I can get a new business card reading: Have tuxedo sidekick, will work for koi.

R:  Thank you, Louie, for this amazing interview!  And thanks also to Ms. Carole Nelson Douglas for her support!

L:  My pleasure, as always, ROCCO! If you’re ever in Vegas, well, stop by.  We can catch koi together. Maybe a few shady characters, too.

R:  You're on, Louie!

Louie's human and co-collaborator, Miss Carole Nelson Douglas, has kindly consented to give away not one, but two books to two lucky commenters. To win your choice of either:
A) A signed hardcover edition of CAT IN AN ALIEN X-RAY    or
B) A signed mass-market copy of CAT IN A WHITE TIE AND TAILS

simply leave a comment below, stating which of the covers for Cat in an Alphabet Soup you prefer! Legs or no legs????????? (You can also weigh in on which image of Louie you like best, too -front or back view!)  You can also state which book you would prefer to win.  Please be sure to leave your email address (entries WITHOUT email addys will be disqualified; sorry.) Just to clarify...there will be TWO winners, and each winner will receive ONE of the above mentioned books - their choice.  Please, please remember to leave your email address. Entries without an email address are automatically disqualified, and LOUIE hates to disqualify anyone!!!!!  (As do I, ROCCO, blogger supreme, heh heh)

For extra entries, you can do any or all of the below:

* Follow my blog (+ 1 point)
* Follow me on Twitter (+ 1 point) (Link: https://twitter.com/RoccoBlogger)
* Tweet about the contest (+ 1 point)
* Friend me on Facebook (+ 1 point) (Link: https://www.facebook.com/ToniLotempio)#!/

* Mention the contest on Facebook (+ 1 point)
* Mention the contest on your blog (+ 1 point)

Winner will be chosen at random using random.org.  Don’t forget to mention all you’ve done in your comment. Contest runs through midnight, Sunday, August 18. Good luck!

the winner of our MJ Davidson giveaway is:  Jenni Walker!
Next week: Erika Chase in the hotseat!

ROCCO

INCREDIBLE BLOGGING CAT

 

UNMATCHED AND UNEQUALED....MARY JANICE DAVIDSON RETURNS! (with an exclusive peek at UNDEAD AND UNSURE!)

MEOW!

I’m so purr-fectly happy to welcome our good friend, the extremely talented and lovely Mary Janice Davidson, back to the blog! 

MJ’s here to talk about the new Queen Betsy book, UNDEAD AND UNSURE, out this Tuesday, August 6!  She’s also been kind enough to provide us with an EXCLUSIVE sneak peek at UU!  This is the only place, kitties, you will be able to read this excerpt!

So, without any further ado….MJ!

Thanks, ROCCO!

Folks, Rocco and Giselle are the only cats I like, and one of them is fictional.  (And also dead.)

It’s nothing against cats as a species.  I’m a dog person from a long line of dog persons (dog people).  (I’m also the proud descendant of a long line of substance-abusing white trash.  It’s weird that I take pride in that, right?)  I like a pet who does stuff, like care if you live or die.  Cats, as Andrew Vachss wrote (brilliant, brilliant writer, better on his worst day than me on my best), are the lap dancers of the animal world:  the minute you’re done paying off, they’re outta there.

All this to talk about the new Betsy the Vampire Queen book, UNDEAD AND UNSURE, and dogs.  Specifically the vampire king’s dogs.  He has two of them now, because thanks to the events in the last book, UNDEAD AND UNSTABLE, Eric Sinclair can now bear sunlight for the first time in decades.  To celebrate, Betsy gets him two black lab puppies at tremendous expense:  the expense of the damage they did to Sinclair’s car on the way back from the puppy farm (you didn’t think Betsy would take her own car, did you?), Sinclair’s dignity (the term “Who loves Daddy the very very most?” has been heard, and he wasn’t talking to a human infant), and Betsy’s sanity (dogs are drawn to her, and love to lick her shoes).  Fur and Burr are new additions to the Undead family, and that’s just a taste.  Jessica’s pregnancy, now in the seventeenth or third or ninth trimester (no one, including Jess, can seem to keep track and no one seems to care, either) is coming to an end.  One way or the other.

Also included:  your yearly allotment of snarky heroines, blood, vanity, al fresco sex (Sinclair really likes having sex outdoors in broad daylight), baby talk, and good triumphing over evil.  Kind of. 

* * *

     I was hip-deep in velvet clogs and last year’s pumps, and heard what was becoming a near-daily sound:  someone on Summit Avenue had stomped on their brakes right outside our house.  There’s something about the shriek of brakes and the creak of fingers tightening on the steering wheel that kicks adrenaline from ‘ho-hum, should I have breakfast and lunch at Burger King?’ to ‘I’m going to be killed any second and I should do something right now!’. 

Even before I died that was a stressful sound, and as a vampire that hadn’t changed.  These days that sound meant one thing:  Eric Sinclair, the king of the vampires, was playing in traffic again.  I galloped down the Gone with the Wind staircase and was out the front door in time to see the vampire king standing on Summit, cuddling Fur and Burr to his (broad) chest and waving a cheerful goodbye to a rattled driver who was not lingering.  “I am certain that will buff right out!” he called, and the car lurched as the driver stomped the gas pedal.  “It was lovely talking to you!”

     “Ah, man.”  I fought the urge to slap myself on the forehead.  “Again with this?” 

     Eric Sinclair spun toward me, Fur and Burr’s long silky ears flaring out as he did.  Identical bundles of fluff and teeth, Fur and Burr were black lab sisters, with the soft short coat and large liquid brown eyes of the breed.  They also drooled prodigiously.  Fur wore a red collar with matching leash; Burr had the green one, also with matching leash.  Unless it was the other way around.  Who could tell?  Who wanted to?

“Ah, my own, a glorious sunny day rivaled only by your beauty.”

     “It’s cloudy,” I pointed out as he came up the driveway.  “And what was the other thing?  Hmm it’s on the tip of my tongue, why’d I come sprinting out of—oh, right!  Stop playing in traffic!  Stop!  Playing!  In—”

“Traffic?” he guessed.

“I can’t believe I’ve had to say that even one time to a grown man.  A very grown man in your case—certainly old enough to know better.”

     “I am warmed by your loving concern.  As much as I am warmed by the sun as it—“

     “Lurks behind a cloudbank.”  I tried not to smile.  My husband was a pile of contradictions which I found as sexy as I did interesting/annoying/infuriating.  Tall, dark, and—there was no other word—foreboding, with big hands capable of killing, hands that had killed—but he’d never hurt an innocent.  Immaculately dressed, but walking around in a cloud of dog hair.  Old enough to qualify for Social Security, but forever in the taut toned sleekly muscular body of a young man in his physical prime.  An unstoppable satyr in the bedroom and veteran of more threesomes than Charlie Sheen, but faithful to me.  Glittering black eyes capable of forcing anyone’s will to his, but when he looked at me it was with sweet sappy luurrrrv.  I suppose a staid predictable mate would be boring.  Sinclair was never boring. 

     Yes indeed, he was my husband and my king, together we (sorta) ruled the vampire nation (such as it was...no borders and no border patrols or citizenship tests or patriotic bumper stickers or taxes) and were feared and loathed by many, and bugged by many more, and there King Puppy Love was in all his insane puppy-cuddling glory. 

And it was still damn near impossible not to gape up at him and grin and grin, because his unalloyed joy at his new freedom was contagious. 

     I stomped on my happiness.  One of us had to be the responsible adult, dammit, and the cosmic joke of it all was:  that meant me.  Setting an example.  Or something. 

“When I asked the devil to fix it so you could run around in sunshine, I had no idea the downside was you’d drop fifty I.Q. points.”  I was going for scolding, and not pulling it off.  “Is it asking too much to want you to retain some self-respect?  Because you’re capable of at least that.  If memory serves.”

     Fur and Burr answered for him with puppy yaps.  The little black dogs had begun squirming like hairy worms when I’d come out.  They adored him, they lived to be near him, they cried on the infrequent occasions he left them, but they loved getting their fur and slobber all over me almost as much.  Sinclair thought they were perfect in all ways, but I could only take their incontinent cuteness in small doses.  I was a cat person whose cat was dead.  So I had pretty much the same relationship with Giselle as I’d had when she was alive:  we ignored each other while going about our lives.  Which had suited us both fine, so don’t even start with the judging.

     “Where’s my badass vampire king?” I complained.  Unlike most rhetorical questions, this one was answerable.  Temporarily replaced by the farmer’s son was correct.  Sinclair had grown up on a farm and been around swarms of dogs his whole childhood and adolescence (though he was a teenager before the word teenager was invented).  After he became a vampire, he decided it would be cruel to try to keep a dog or dogs when he could never take them for a walk during the day, and when at any moment he could be killed again.  Kind of a grim tale, right?  Yeah, well, I accidentally changed that.  I also accidentally changed the timeline and accidentally killed Lena Olin.  Because that’s me in a nutshell:  accident-prone.

     Not only had I made a (literal) deal with the devil for Sinclair’s soul (sorta), I’d picked up the puppies and brought them home for him, a hey, great to have you back in the sunshine! gift.  Again, in my defense, I had no idea it would leave him clinically insane.

     “You were once a badass but now you’re the undead Dog Whisperer,” I teased.  “Where’s the cold ruthless vampire I loved and loathed?”

     “Right here!  Isn’t um badass vampire king wight here l’il woogums yes he is!  Yes he is!”

     Dear God.  “Well, we had a good run, but it’s time for our divorce now.  I’ll have my people call your people.  Which will be easy since my people are your people.”

“Oh no, not ever,” he replied, confident in my love and horniness.  He grinned and I smiled back—just could not help it.  He only talked the baby talk to Fur and Burr when I could hear him; he knew it set my teeth on edge.  Right?

Please God, that’s why he’s doing it, that’s the only reason he’s doing it, to get a rise out of me.  The alternative is unthinkable!

“Come walk with me,” he coaxed over the puppies’ whimpering.  They were trying as hard as they could to get down so they could put muddy paws on my dark purple leggings.  Purple leggings which matched my slightly less purple sweatshirt, and pale green flats on my feet...what had I been thinking?  I looked like an upside-down eggplant.

“Pass.”  I stepped close to pet them, which only increased the wiggling and yelping.  “Bad enough to have these two always wanting to climb all over me; I don’t need the neighborhood dogs chasing me home again.”  One of the perks of being Elizabeth, The One (gah, I know, sue me; I didn’t make up that dumb dumb dumb title), is that I’ll be pretty cute forever.  One of the not-perks was that dogs were drawn to me. 

“How can my true love say nay,” he sang, “on such a beautiful d—bbllech!”  He’d been cut off as Fur had licked his face and accidentally Frenched him.  Heh.  That alone had been worth running out of the house for.  “No, no, you dreadful hound,” he scolded in the same tone people used for “I love you and everything you do is wonderful”.  Yeah, that’d show those two who was boss.  “Just for that, whee!”

     “Please stop doing the Mary Tyler Moore twirl.”  (Authors note:  Sinclair did this for the first time in Undead and Underwater and it was just as off-putting.)

     “Never!”

     I’d always assumed that when I met the right vampire, we’d settle down and live with a houseful of weirdos and I’d be the embarrassing one.  Oh, life, must you always teach me lessons?

     The four of us went into the house, where Sinclair shrugged out of his black wool coat and de-leashed the dogs, tossing both coat and leashes into the mudroom just off the kitchen.  If I needed further proof that things were different, the sight of him tossing a $600+ Ralph Lauren cashmere overcoat onto a dirty counter, then closing the door on the whole mess (ta-dah!  all gone!) would have done it.

The mudroom was aptly named.  It always looked like someone had thrown a mud grenade, then slammed the door.  Ker-BLOOSH!  Mud all over.  Mud in places you can’t get mud out of.  Mud in places mud was never meant to be.  The puppies, knowing the routine, dashed past the door to their corner and started frisking around their food dishes. 

     “This is not funny.”

     “I know!” I cried.  “You’ve lost your mind, the devil’s dead, the Anti-Christ is pissed, and I have to go grocery shopping again because Jessica’s belly is devouring the planet.”

     His piercing gaze met mine for a moment and I felt hot and cold at once.  Cold because although Sinclair would set himself on fire before hurting me, he was pretty much the baddest vampire on the planet; you didn’t break his gaze without giving something up.  Hot because he was pretty much the baddest vampire on the planet and you didn’t break his gaze without giving something up.  Yum.  Yum squared.

     His lips parted.  I felt myself leaning toward him...now that I thought about it, we hadn’t had sex in almost seventy-two hours.  The horror!  Unimaginable.

     “Tina!” he bawled, and I jerked back.  That wasn’t the name I’d expected him to shriek.

     We heard feet pounding down stairs, we heard someone galloping down the hall to the kitchen, and then—whoosh!  Tina was sliding to a stop in front of us.  She loved fuzzy socks, but bemoaned their lack of traction...most days, anyway.  Also, her socks were yellow with black stripes, making it look like she had bee feet.

     “Majesties.”  She wasn’t panting, because she had no breath to be out of, but she’d wasted no time coming on the run.  “How may I serve?”

     Sinclair, meanwhile, had twisted the lid off the puppies’ canister o’treats.  “This is unacceptable.”

     “My king?”

     He held the canister upside down and shook it.  “It is not to be borne!”

Tina blinked slowly, like an owl.  She loved my husband, she had loved him decades before I was born and I confidently expected her to love him for centuries more.  But her love didn’t threaten mine.  She had been a friend of the Sinclair clan for generations; she was the vampire who had turned my husband from a grieving brother and son to a coldly infuriated predator.  She was devoted, had killed and (at least twice that I knew of) almost died for him, and her love for him was utterly maternal.

Which, given how she looked, was as hilarious as it was touching.  Tina had been a prime hottie in her day and still was, in mine.  Her dark blonde hair was pulled back into a thick braid which brought attention to her pale face, making her dark eyes and bristly lashes even more striking.  Pansy eyes, my mom called them.  She was regularly carded when she tried to a) drink, and b) see an NC-17 movie.  This was partly because she was a vampire and partly because she liked dressing the part of a lecherous senator’s fantasy:  plaid skirts, usually in a green or red tartan, crisp white blouses, little to no jewelry, no makeup.  In life, she must have driven the other southern belles out of their teeny tiny minds, and trust me, their minds were having enough trouble grasping the fact that Daddy’s slaves had nutty ideas about how it sucked to be owned.  (Yeah.  She was that old.  Her full name was Christina Caresse Chavelle.  Ha!)

All this to say, she was a creature of contradictions, just like my insane husband, and also like my insane husband, she loved and protected us.  That didn’t mean we didn’t drive her bugshit sometimes.  Like now, for instance.  Sinclair was shaking an empty canister and I could tell she wanted to roll her eyes but wouldn’t indulge.  Thus the slow blinking. 

After a few seconds while Sinclair practically tapped his foot waiting for her answer, she said, “I must apologize, my king.”

“How could you let this happen?”

“I foolishly let the budget, the management of our offshore accounts, an audit on Scratch, a conference call with Michael Wyndham and Dr. Bimm to lay groundwork for possible alliances, and the monthly newsletter take precedence.”

I wanted to sigh with admiration.  Only Tina could have gotten away with it:  a perfectly serious response, with terrific undertones of because it’s not my friggin’ job, nimrod, now how about you go play with your dogs and let me get back to the grown up stuff?

     “It’s nothing to freak out about.  We’re not out.”  I figured I’d toss Tina a save, not that she needed one.  “There’s a whole pack of those Gaines Burger things in—“

     “Store bought?” the king of the vampires nearly shrieked.  I had the feeling he would have said “Abstinence?” in the same horrified tone.  “Factory churned dreck with peanut shells and corncobs as filler?  Never!  Never while I live!”

     “Technically you’re not ali—quit that.“  Tired of waiting for her snack, Fur had abandoned her bowl and jumped up on my legs.  She had sharp claws to go with her sharp baby teeth—those puppies had mouths full of sewing needles.  “Stop it!”

     “My darling, my own,” Sinclair crooned as he set the canister down and came to me.  He put his lovely strong hands on my shoulders and pulled me in for what I hoped would be some heavy kitchen smoochin’.  Maybe we’d shoo everyone out and nail each other on the butcher block.  Hmm, no, we made our smoothies there; the others would throw a fit.  The puppy counter?  I’d throw a fit.  It was no coincidence that the kitchen was one of the few rooms in this monstrosity we hadn’t christened.  “I need you at my side.”

     “Back atcha, big guy.”

     “Let us bake love.”

     “Oooh, I’ve been waiting all day for—what?”

     “Bake love.”  Was he...?  He was!  Eric Sinclair was reaching past me and grabbing an apron, which he dropped over his head and then tied behind his back.  “That is how you show love to your pets,” he went on as if this was a serious topic of conversation and not further evidence of clinical insanity.  “You bake love.  I shall begin with a batch of Apple Crunch Pupcakes.”

“Please lose the apron,” I begged while Tina sloooowly backed out of the room.  “I can psychologically block most of this if you just lose the apron.  I can blitz the whole day just please lose the apron!”  Oh God, God, why wouldn’t he lose the apron?

“It will not stand!  We may have run out of homemade dog biscuits but my precious darlings will never be forced to choke down—“

     “Forced?  So you’ve never once noticed how they eat?  Because they are not forced.  Ever.”

     “—repulsive store-brand dog treats loaded with by-product meal and chicken heads.  Now where...”  He stood still for a moment, thinking.  “...where is my mixing bowl?”

     I fled the horror.

***

MEOW!

Thanks for that sneak peek, MJ! Folks, be sure to get your copy of UNDEAD AND UNSURE August 6!

One lucky commenter here has a chance to win a copy of Undead and Unsure!

To enter, leave a comment on this blog post with your name and email address (entries without email will be disqualified). For extra entries, you can do any or all of the below:

* Follow my blog (+ 1 point)
* Follow me on Twitter (+ 1 point) (Link: https://twitter.com/RoccoBlogger)
* Tweet about the contest (+ 1 point)
* Friend me on Facebook (+ 1 point) (Link: https://www.facebook.com/ToniLotempio)#!/

* Mention the contest on Facebook (+ 1 point)
* Mention the contest on your blog (+ 1 point)

Winner will be chosen at random using random.org. Contest ends Midnight, August 10.   Don’t forget to mention all you’ve done in your comment. Good luck!

Congratulations to our KATE COLLINS winners!  Tonette and Kristine "Chaos" Meow.

Next week…the interview you’ve all been waiting for!

I interview MIDNIGHT LOUIE!!!!!!!!!!

MEOW!

ROCCO

INCREDIBLE BLOGGING CAT

In the Hotseat - NYT bestselling author KATE COLLINS!

 

Meow!

Today I am pleased to welcome the author of the popular Flower Shop Mysteries, KATE COLLINS!

 

 

Kate's books have made the Barnes & Noble mass market mystery best-sellers’ lists, the Independent Booksellers’ best-seller’s lists, as well as booksellers’ lists in Australia and England.  All of the books are available in hardback, large print editions both in the U.S. and in the UK. An Indiana native, Kate graduated from Purdue University with a master's degree in education.  She taught elementary school for six years, but after the birth of her first child, gave up her teaching career to pursue a long-time dream of putting her stories to paper. After writing short humorous stories for children’s magazines and working part-time as a legal secretary, she sold her first historical romance novel in 1995. When not growing roots at her computer, Kate loves to grow flowers and vegetables in her garden. Other passions include  yoga, exploring the Greek Isles, decorating, power walking, spending time with family and friends, sampling great wines and dark chocolate, and enjoying every moment of life. The author lives in Northwest Indiana and Key West, Florida.

 

 

 

 

R:  Hello, Kate. Welcome to the blog and my “Hotseat”

K: Hello, Rocco. Thanks for inviting me!

R:  Tell us a bit about yourself and how you became interested in writing.

K: Wow. I have to go way back to answer this, starting with my childhood, when I told myself stories to get to sleep. Usually they were about a handsome prince (as in Charming) galloping up on his white charger and sweeping me away to live happily ever after as his princess.  I also liked to concoct tales that entertained and frightened the neighborhood kids. Did you know that a mouth lived in the attic crawlspace between my bedroom and my brother’s? Yep, a mouth. No face, no head, just all by its lonesome. Kids would practically pay to come to my bedroom, peer inside the crawlspace, “see” the mouth, and go screaming out the door. It taught me what the imagination could do. My ability to make up stories also got me out of and into trouble on many occasions. My mom called them fibs.

But it wasn’t until after I retired from teaching elementary school to raise my children that I actually put pen to paper and wrote humorous children’s stories for magazines. Next, I turned to historical romance (some published under Linda O’Brien, now available as e-books) and had seven published.

When the western historical market died out back in the 1990s, I turned to my true love, mystery, and the Flower Shop series was born.

R: You were a legal secretary – did that provide the inspiration for Abby’s attending law school?  What made you decide to have her pursue a career as a florist rather than lawyer.

K: In a nutshell, my husband was the head of the law firm – it was where we met, an office romance unfolding under the noses of the other employees – awwww. While working there, I met young women who had just graduated from law school and were trying to make a go of it. So I originally intended for Abby Knight to be one of them, but my agent said “Bor-ing! Not another lawyer sleuth.”

So after some thought, I decided to make Abby a law school flunk-out, an underdog who gets smacked in the face by life. Readers have taken to her struggles in a big way, so it was a good choice. Everyone can identify with an underdog.

R:  Your books seem to be very knowledgeable about flowers and plants. Do you have a “green thumb” yourself?

K: I love gardening. I’ve always tried to surround myself with flowers and so I studied them. I’ve tried my hand at flower arranging, too, and while I’m okay, I’m certainly not a floral designer. I study a lot of flower arranging books and scour websites and magazines for floral ideas. I also have a few on-line florist friends who kindly let me call on them for tips. Before starting the series, however, I hung out in a flower shop workroom for a few days to absorb everything I could.  I decided then that if I couldn’t make a go as a mystery writer, I would look into working at a flower shop. It’s just the coolest place to be.

R: You were an elementary school teacher – which did you prefer, teaching or writing?

K: Tough question! When I taught, my favorite subject was – creative writing! I love to share knowledge with people, so now I find myself wanting to do more workshops for writers. But would I give up writing to teach? Nope. I’m too right-brained. I need creativity.

R: Tell us about your latest release in your “flower shop mystery” series, “Seed No Evil”.  Is there a happy ever after for Abby and Marco?

K: Oh, wow, I wish I could express fully how excited I am about this book. This is THE BOOK my readers have been waiting for, and I promise it won’t disappoint. For readers who don’t know how the publishing process works, once a manuscript is turned in, the author has to take 3 more passes at it for revisions, copy-edits, and proof-reading. This is the first time that I teared up every single time I read the last chapter – and I knew what was coming!

R:  Several of your books feature storylines involving animal activists and animal rights.  Is this a cause you are passionate about?

K: You bet I am. I support several local animal shelters and give to the major ones like HSUS, NWF, and WWF. In fact, in SEED NO EVIL, an animal shelter that is about to change from no-kill to kill features prominently in the plot. Abby is beside herself with worry. I think readers will love this story line. It tugs at the heart.

R: How did you decide to write in the “cozy mystery” genre?

K: It wasn’t a choice I made. It’s just the way I write. I love to laugh, I love to put together puzzles, I love romance, and I love unique characters. What I don’t like are graphic, gory scenes of murder and torture. I won’t read them and I won’t write them.  I don’t watch horror movies, either. They keep me awake at night.

R: What is your favorite genre to read and do you have a favorite author?

K: Honestly, I don’t have a favorite genre or a favorite author. I read across a broad spectrum of subjects, both fiction and non and like so many authors that it would be boring to list them all.  I did vastly enjoy Suzanne Collins’ Hunger Games series, which I hesitated reading for years because the premise turned me off. Big mistake! What an imagination Suzanne has. I’m in awe.

R:  Do you have an “how I got my agent” story you’d like to share?  How did you feel when you got the call your first novel had sold?

K: I got my present agent, Karen Solem, after having to fire my first agent for leaving me hanging for months on end. I had already published seven romances by that time, and when I tried to sell the Flower Shop series, I couldn’t get an agent to rep me. One agent told me she “just didn’t fall in love with” my characters. (Too bad because a lot of readers did.) Anyway, after eighteen query letters went nowhere, I finally asked my then editor, who gave me Karen’s name. Karen read my manuscript, loved Mum’s the Word and had a 3 book contract within two weeks.

On selling my first book: That first call came when I was changing out of work clothes into something comfy. I was half-dressed, standing in my bedroom, jumping up and down on the carpet while trying to sound very professional and calm. What a marvelous day that was.

R: What’s a must have for you when you are writing? What aids the creative process?

K: I must have a clean desk. If my view is distracted by “stuff” so is my creative mind.

I must have a serene view.  Same reason as above.

I must start the writing process by playing at least one game of Free Cell. I don’t know how it works, but it seems to shut off my left brain, which always wants to remind me that laundry is waiting, bills need to be written, etc. Can’t work in the right brain until the left side has been switched off. Phone calls drive me crazy because it switches me back to the left side.  People seem to think that writing isn’t like a real job, where you can’t take calls during working hours. Sigh. Even though I don’t answer, the sound annoys me. Plus, having children, I always check to see if there’s an emergency situation.

R: You’ve also written historical romances.  If you had access to a time machine, which historical moment would you travel to and why?

K: I wrote extensively about the late 1800s, so I did a lot of research on those years. I really would not want to go back then or even earlier. Until the 1950s, life was just plain tough. What I would like to visit though, is a time before the United States was colonized. I’d love to see what the land looked like back then, when it was still pristine and unpolluted.

R:  If a movie were to be made of one of your books, which one would you want it to be and who would you pick for the lead roles?

K: I would have a hard time choosing only one, but maybe, maybe! SHOOTS TO KILL. I love the evil twin plot. But I really think the whole set would make a great TV series. Hard to choose actors, though. Believe me, I’ve tried. I’ve even had contests where readers chose the actors, and boy, were there some strange choices. I see Abby and Marco and the others very clearly in my mind, but I’d leave it up to the casting agent to find them. (I’d want veto rights, however.)

R: What is one thing your readers would be most surprised to know about you?

K: I’m not sure this would surprise my friends, but I’ve done some of the risky, almost foolhardy things that Abby has done in the name of justice. Just like Abby, I hate bullies, so maybe taking a stand against one isn’t always the wisest course. Other than that, I’ve been kidnapped by a money-hungry camel driver in Giza, Egypt, and eventually ransomed by my husband for a mere $5, (he got a deal) went spelunking in a southern Indiana cave for research for one of my romances,  and rode in a hot air balloon.

R: What is the craziest thing you've ever done? 

K: Wrote that first novel and believed I could get published. Everyone thought I was crazy, but I believed in myself.

R: What do you hope readers will most take away from your writing?

K: A sense of joy about life, a determination to stand up against any kind of bullying, a desire to help others, and a lot of laughter.

Just for Fun:

Night or Day?  .Day

Dog or Cat? (answer carefully)  Cat. No, dog. No, cat.  Maybe a llama, too. (ROCCO: Should have stopped at cat!  J)

Beach or Pool?   Beach

Steak or salad?  Salad.

Favorite Drink?  A good cabernet.

Favorite Book?  The Poisonwood Bible

Favorite TV Series?  Friends

Favorite Movie?  Gone with the Wind

Favorite Actor:  Toss up between Hugh Jackman and Leo DiCaprio.

Favorite Actress: Meryl Streep

Dirty Martini or Pina Colada? Pina Colada

Hawaii or Alaska? Hawaii

Finish this sentence:  If I could meet anyone in the world, past or present, it would be Jesus.

If I had just one wish, it would be that every pet had a home where it was loved and cherished. (Meow – we LOVE this!)

If I could trade places with anyone in the world, it would be no one. I’m pretty satisfied being me.

Meow – Thanks for a great interview, Kate!  The Human and I can’t wait to sink our paws into “Seed no Evil”

Folks!

Here are all the places you can find out about Kate and her books!

www.katecollinsbooks.com

www.facebook.com/authorkatecollins

www.cozychicksblog.com

Kate will be giving away an autographed copy of NIGHTSHADE ON ELM STREET and PROMISED TO A STRANGER, one of her historical romances, to two lucky commenters!

To enter, leave a comment on this blog post with your name and email address (entries without email will be disqualified). For extra entries, you can do any or all of the below:

* Follow my blog (+ 1 point)
* Follow me on Twitter (+ 1 point) (Link: https://twitter.com/RoccoBlogger)
* Tweet about the contest (+ 1 point)
* Friend me on Facebook (+ 1 point) (Link: https://www.facebook.com/ToniLotempio)#!/

* Mention the contest on Facebook (+ 1 point)
* Mention the contest on your blog (+ 1 point)

Winner will be chosen at random using random.org.  Don’t forget to mention all you’ve done in your comment.US residents only. Contest ends midnight, August 4! Good luck!

Here’s what we’ve got planned for August!

Aug 6 – MJ Davidson returns!

Aug 13 – Carole Nelson Douglas and Midnight Louie

Aug 20 – Erika Chase

Aug 29 – Anne Purser

Meow!

ROCCO

Incredible Blogging Cat