a mystery

It was a mystery, my friends.

A BIG mystery, I'd say.

Nope, it was more like a super duper HUMONGOUS mystery, for sure.  Yup, super duper HUMONGOUS sounds just about right.

With an emphasis on humongous, of course.

MOUSES!

So just the other day...

Saffron went missin'.

And Peepers just about freaked out.

Did I say, just about?  Nah, that can't be right.

Oh, I said it, all right.  Yup, I said it, for sure.  But I should have said somethin' else on account of Peepers not just about freakin' out, but rather...

HAVIN' A FULL-BLOWN FREAKAZOID EVENT.

MOUSES!

Peepers was awfully upset.  She was outside callin' for Saffy.  Front yard, back yard, every yard around.  And she was inside callin' for him, too.  Upstairs, downstairs, and even in the livin' room although the door to that room has been closed since SOME KITTY did somethin' in there and...

Actually, I shouldn't bring that up.

Point is, she looked EVERYWHERE.  Peepers, that is.  Yup, Peepers looked here and there and absolutely EVERYWHERE.

And there wasn't a Saffron in sight.

MOUSES!

Peepers was ready to pick up the phone and call in the FBI...

Feline Bureau of Investigation, that is.

'Cause the OTHER FBI frowns on peeps calling 'em in, in cases like these.

And this kitty is speakin' from experience, you see.

But never mind that.  As I was sayin', Peepers was just about ready to call in the FBI, when...

When Saffy Suddenly Appeared.

Nose up in the air, tail held high, and a look on his face that could only be described as smugness.

MOUSES!

Where had Saffron been all that time?  Those hours - yes, HOURS - he had been missin'?

No one knows!

And Saffy's not tellin'.

We do know he was somewhere INSIDE the house, but where that somewhere was...

IS ONE MYSTERY THAT CANNOT BE SOLVED.

YET.

Maybe if he hides in that particular hidey hole again, I'll help Peepers in her search and try sniffin' him out.

Truth be told, I COULD probably have sniffed him out for her the other day...

BUT I WAS WAY TOO BUSY ROLLIN' AROUND ON THE FLOOR; LAUGHIN' AT PEEPERS RUNNIN' AROUND, INSIDE AND OUT, LOOKIN' FREAKISHLY FRAZZLED AND KINDA WEIRDLY BEDAZZLED, DOIN' HER VERSION OF THE FREAKY FREAKAZOID DANCE OF THE PEEPS.

Yup, it's a dance.  A dance peeps are known to do.

And it's funny as all get out.

Bwahahahahahahahaha....

MOUSES!

out of the batter bowl

"LOOK OUT!" Rushton yelled as Seville walked past the kitchen door. Seville turned in the direction of his brother's voice just in time to receive a paw-full of goopy, gooey, pasty batter in his face.

"What the mouses?" Seville sputtered, spitting out lumps of batter as he spoke.  "What the mouses are you two long-haired marmie boys up to?"

"Sorry about that," Anderson apologized, padding over to Seville.  He wiped what batter he could from Seville's face with a paw.  Drawing the paw to his mouth, he sniffed.  Then he licked it and screwed up his face. "Tastes good, Rushy, but you were right.  It is kind of lumpy."

Seville looked from Anderson to Rushton and then back to Andy once again.  "I'll ask once more. What the mouses are you two up to?  Whose idea was this here food fight, anyway?  I thought you were working on your book reports for Kitty Lit. 101!  You know, your reports about Linda Reilly's latest book, Out of the Dying Pan."

"We were.  I mean, we are," Rushton answered, rather matter of factly.

"It's true, Seville," piped up Andy.  "We're doing what one calls a reenactment of one of the scenes in the book.  Checking out how realistic it is and stuff."

"Turns out the scene was very realistic," added Rushton.  "I can totally see something like that escalating to flying batter and things, just like in the book.  Andy and I proved it and everything."

Seville rolled his eyes before saying, "When Peep #1 finds out about this..."

"Oh she already knows," explained Andy.  "Said something about us driving her crazy which is absolutely ridiculous as neither one of us can drive."

Seville pursed his lips, partially closed his eyes allowing them to glaze over, and shuddered.

"You okay there, bro?" Andy asked.  Without waiting for a response he continued with, "So anyway, now that we've proven that the book's batter scene in the kitchen really could happen..."

"Which we already knew but simply felt the need to prove," added Rushton.

"Now we can go type up our reports for Professor Lyon," finished Anderson.  "You have yours done already, Seville?"

"Had mine done ages ago and it's a good thing, too, 'cause I'm looking at this kitchen and thinkin' that SOMEONE is gonna have to do a little cleaning."

"I think Peep #1 will clean it up when she gets back from crazy, wherever that is," said Andy.

Rushton stared at Seville for a moment before asking, "Don't you want to know why we needed to do this reenactment, Seville?"

"Uh actually...  NO."

"Sure you do.  Don't you think Seville wants to know, Andy? Don't answer that, Anderson.  It was what one calls a rhetorical question," and Rushton settled back on his haunches before continuing.  "Anyway, Andy and I were discussing the various relationships in Linda Reilly's latest book, Out of the Dying Pan.  The various relationships between the characters and stuff."

"And by stuff," Anderson butted in, "he means food.  Deep fried food like fish as, as you know, the main character Talia owns and operates a restaurant serving such things.  Things like fish.  And meatballs too!"  Anderson turned to Rushton to add, "We need to try making those Deep Fried Meatballs, Rushy.  Recipe is in the back of the book."

"As I was saying," Rushton scowled at his brother, "the book has a lot of relationships.  Some fairly simple and others far more complex.  Relationships between the various characters and..."

"And food.  Don't forget the food," Andy reminded Rushy.  "But also scarves."

Seville sat down, closed his eyes, and lay his head in his paws.  "I can't believe these two cats are my brothers," he muttered.  "Clearly, they were adopted."

"Andy does have a point about the scarves," Rushton agreed.  "There are two scarves.  The smoky smelly one that Martha is always wearing and then the.. uh..  the murder weapon.  You know, the one Talia made for her grandmother."

"Which is another relationship," Anderson said.  "You know, the relationship Talia had with her grandmother when she was growing up.  How she loved her and made her that lovely scarf as a gift..."

"Which then showed up with the victim, before the victim was an actual victim," continued Rushton. "That has got to make one wonder if there was a relationship between the victim and Talia, right?  Might even make the police look at Talia as the killer."

"Yeah," Andy butted in, "because Talia already had a relationship with the police.  After all, she did find a dead body in Linda Reilly's first book, not long before Out of the Dying Pan takes place. This is the second time she has done that so when you think about it, she's developing a rather interesting association - or relationship - with the police.  And then there's the relationships between the victim and Talia and the victim and her mother and the victim and..."

"And the relationships between the shop owners with one another," added Rushton.  "Also the relationships between Talia and her adorable calico kitty and then that Siamese kitty and the victim had a relationship which leads to the exposure of some other relationships and...  Oh!  And keep in mind, all of these relationships are exposed throughout the book, one at a time, so you never know which ones are simply fun or interesting or related to the crime.  Plus, the relationships make the storyline multi-dimensional."

"Excuse me," Seville interjected, "but can someone please explain what all of this has to do with your whipping up a batch of batter and having a food fight in the kitchen?  Anyone? Anyone at all?"

"Um..." and Rushton looked upwards at the ceiling.  "Oh wow.  Look at that.  Which one of us threw batter all the way up there?  It hit the fan and everything."

Anderson looked down at a paw and began to study a claw with great concentration.

Rushton scratched behind an ear.  "Well we really just wanted to see what being in a food fight would be like as neither one of us had ever been in one before.  Ours went a little further..."

Andy tapped Rushton on a shoulder.  "Actually, ours went a lot further than the one in the book.  No batter hit the ceiling in Out of the Dying Pan."

"True," Rushton nodded in agreement.  "But at the time, it seemed like a good experience to have. And you have to admit, Seville, that the characters involved in the smaller and..."  He gazed about the kitchen.  "...and not nearly so messy incident in the book did all share relationships both to Talia and to one another and..."

"THERE WERE NO FOOD FIGHTS IN THE BOOK!" Seville hollered.

"But there was that scene involving some arguing and batter and some of the batter did end up on someone's shoe."

"MOUSES!" cried Seville.

"No, there were no mice Seville," Andy frowned.

Seville slapped a paw to his mouth.  "Tell me you didn't..."

"Didn't what?" asked Rushton.

"Tell me you didn't go and get your lumpy batter on that extra-special, super-duper autographed copy of Out of the Dying Pan that Linda Reilly offered to GIVE AWAY to one of the readers of my blog.  Where is it?  Andy?  Rushy?" and Seville looked frantically around the kitchen.  "With all this batter flying about...  WE CAN'T GIVE AWAY A DAMAGED COPY!"

"Don't be ridiculous," chastised Rushton.  "We wouldn't do a thing like that.  The autographed copy of Out of the Dying Pan is tucked safely away, where it will remain until your blog's GIVEAWAY is over and someone wins it.  We would never let it get damaged in our little food fight.  NEVER."


"Little?" and Andy raised an eyebrow.

"Little," Rushton answered firmly.  "And that's exactly what you will say if questioned by the peeps.  Got that?"

"Got it," Anderson nodded before turning to his other brother.  "Seville, you really should tell everyone about the giveway.  Tell them how to enter and stuff.  Your readers will want to know.  Or...  Or do you want me to do it? I can, you know.  I can definitely do that.  Here goes."

                                  ****************************************

Linda Reilly is giving away an AUTOGRAPHED copy of Out of the Dying Pan to one lucky reader. To enter, simply leave a comment on this blog post before midnight, Atlantic time, on Sunday May 29th, 2016.  The winner will be selected by random drawing on Monday May 30th.  Contest is open world-wide, unless prohibited by law.  No purchase necessary.

                                  ****************************************
Out of the Dying Pan is the second book in the Deep Fried Mystery Series written by Seville's pal, Linda Reilly, and published as a Prime Crime Mystery by the Berkley Publishing Group, a division of the Penguin Group.  Connect on-line with Linda through her website, Linda Reilly, or on her Facebook page, Author Linda Reilly.  The cover picture of Linda's book was used with the permission of none other than Linda Reilly, herself.

                                  ****************************************

Disclaimer:  We received no monetary compensation for this post.  Linda Reilly is giving away a copy of her book to one lucky reader but we cats bought our own copies for Kitty Lit. 101.  Also, all opinions are our own.  MOUSES!

gonna remain a mystery, for sure

Oh my mouses, Peepers, what do you think you're doing?  What's with the tweezers and stuff?  You torturing my computer or something?  You know, it's my computer.  You should have asked, first.

And for future reference, asking is always the polite thing to do.  That's why I always ask...

Hmmm...  Never mind. MOUSES!

What is that, Peepers? Is that a hair?  One of your hairs get lodged in the keyboard of my computer?  You should be more careful with that hair of yours, you know.  Especially when you're around my computer.

Not one of yours, huh?  Hmmm...  You could be right about that, Peepers.  Kinda short for your hair. Kind of orangey coloured, too....

MOUSES!

Now I know what you're thinking, Peepers, and what you're thinking is wrong.  That hair is not mine. I know it's short like mine and I know its ginger coloured but still...  Nope.  No way.  Not one of my hairs and that is for sure.

What's that?  You say it's not alone?  I should look where?

MOUSES!

No way, no how, is all that hair mine.  I mean, think about it.  If all of those hairs were my hairs, I'd be bald by now but look at me.  I don't have a single bald spot.  Not one.  Well except for my nose but I never did have any hairs on my nose.  And my fur does run a little thin by my ears but it always did so that's not unusual at all.  Nope, those hairs are most definitely not mine.

And you say you found all those hairs inside the computer, huh?  All of 'em?  All in there? Wherever were they hiding?

Oh, I see.  They were tucked in between and underneath the keys, huh?  That's why you needed the tweezers?  And did I hear the 'cuum goin' on in here, too?  You were torturing the computer with the vacuum?  Seriously, Peepers, that's just mean.

You know, Peepers, I'm not the only marmalade cat in this here house. Anderson and Rushton are marmies, too.  Maybe those there hairs are theirs.  Those there hairs are... HAHAHA!  Try sayin' that one, three times quickly.  Those there hairs are theirs, those there hairs are theirs, those there hairs are theirs...  Did it! But I digress.

Anyway, in case you hadn't noticed, those two marmie brothers of mine have a lot of hair.  They could probably lose a whole small animal's worth of hair and you'd never even notice.  Maybe even two small animal's worth of hair...

You say Anderson and Rushton weren't using the computer, huh?  How do you know?  Let's face it, Peepers, you don't know half the stuff that goes on in this here office.  Why, just the other day...

Ummm...  Never mind.

Anyway, the fact is, that there hair isn't mine.

And you're sure it's not yours?  I know, I know...  Little short to be yours.  Little too orange to be yours.  Or so you say.  I know it says golden brown on the box but seriously, there might have been a little marmalade colouring...

OR MAYBE IT'S ACTUAL MARMALADE!

Yeah, you're probably right about that.  Marmalade does tend to be sticky and not very hair-like in appearance at all.  Hmmm....

Peepers, do you think a burglar with short, orange hair might have broken in here and started messing about with my computer, trying to figure out where I keep the money I'm saving up for nip futures and stuff?  Now that could happen, for sure.  I can totally see something like that happening.  I mean, you hear 'bout stuff like that happening all the time.  Don't you ever watch the news, Peepers?  If you did, you'd know how that could have happened.  I wouldn't even have to suggest it.

You don't think so, huh?

Well...

Well I guess it's gonna remain a mystery then.  Yup, remain a mystery forever and for always. Guess we'll never know whose hairs those are.  Nope, never ever.  I mean, what are you gonna do, perform DNA tests or somethin'?

DNA tests, huh?  Oh-oh.

Oops!  Sorry 'bout that.  How careless of me.  Now just let me gather up all those short, orange hairs that look very much like what an orange-haired burglar might have and return 'em to the desk and...

OOPS!  So sorry Peepers.  I was aiming for the desk.  Really and truly, I was.  It was only by accident that I dropped 'em right there in front of the vacuum cleaner.

OOPS!  So that's the button you press to turn the 'cuum on, huh?  Who knew? Did you know that, Peepers?  I know I certainly didn't.

Well I don't know what to tell you, Peepers.  You'll just have to take my word for it that those hairs you found clogging up the computer weren't mine. Not that there was ever any question. Never any question, at all.  I'm still thinking it was an orange-haired burglar who broke in, in the middle of the night and to be perfectly honest, I really don't think you're gonna be able to prove otherwise.  MOUSES!

fish and chips with a side of trouble

Anderson raced into the room and skidded to a stop beside Seville's desk.  "Tell me it isn't true!" he panted.

Seville stopped working on his book report for Kitty Lit. 101 and looked down at his brother.  "Tell you what isn't true, bro? What has your fluffy pantaloons all in a dither?"

Still out of breath, Andy barely managed to wheeze, "Rushton says you're planning on giving away my library!"

"You have a library?  Since when did you have a library?  And why am I giving it away?  And why don't I have one, too?"

Anderson took a deep breath.  "Okay, okay...  Maybe I was exaggerating a little.  Rushy says you're giving away half my library.  Not the whole thing.  How come?  And doesn't it matter that I don't want you to do that?"

"I don't know what you're talking about, Andy.  Right now, I'm concentrating on finishing up this report about Linda Reilly's book, Fillet of Murder.  You have yours all done?"

"NEVER MIND ABOUT THAT!  I need to know my library is still intact.  I need to know you're not giving it away!"

Seville hopped down from his desk chair.  "Andy, start from the beginning.  First of all, tell me where this library of yours is."

"It's right over there!" and Andy pointed a paw at two books sitting on a bookcase shelf.

"That's not a library, Anderson.  Why, those are just two books.  Two.  As in...  you know...  TWO."

"But they're my two books.  I bought them with my own money - okay, the peep's money - but nevertheless, I love them both.  But Rushy told me you're going to give one of them away!  He told me you're giving away my copy of Fillet of Murder by Linda Reilly.  I NEED that book for my library!  I MIGHT WANT TO READ IT AGAIN!"


Seville rolled his eyes.  "I see what's going on. Don't worry, Andy.  I am giving away a copy of Fillet of Murder but not your copy.  And technically, I'm not the one giving it away.  Linda Reilly, herself, has offered to give one lucky reader of my blog an AUTOGRAPHED COPY of her book, Fillet of Murder.  She's going to put her paw print on it and everything.  But it's a totally different copy.  It's a brand new copy.  Your library will remain intact."

"Really?" squeaked Anderson.

"Really," answered Seville.  "Couldn't give away your copy even if I tried.  I flipped through the pages and they're a little dog eared.  You kept turning over the corners of them and stuff.  Ever heard of a bookmark, my man?"

"I used a bookmark to keep track of where I was in the story, Seville, but I turned over the page corners of all my favourite parts."

Seville narrowed his eyes.  "You turned over a lot of page corners."

"I had a lot of favourite parts."

"Makes sense," and Seville nodded in agreement.  "It really was a good book.  Tell me, what did you like best?"

"I loved how Talia works at a fish and chips restaurant.  I mean, fish, right?  Best kind of restaurant around.  Not too into the chips part, myself, but the fish?  I love fish.  Mmmm..."

"Ah, that would account for the drool I found on some of the pages," Seville murmured.

"But as yummy as the book was from a fish and chips restaurant perspective kind of thing, it was really exciting, too.  I mean, there was a murder!  And then there was blame.  And then, of course, the culprit was found out but I would never in a million years have guessed who that culprit was. The news came as a huge surprise to me but when I thought about it afterwards, it all made sense. Don't know how I didn't see it before," Anderson explained.

"I'll tell you how you didn't see it," chuckled Rushton as he sauntered into the room.  "You..."

"Oh come on now, Rushy," chided Seville.  "Bet you didn't figure it out, either.  I have to say, it threw me for a loop, too.  But that's what happens when a mystery book is really well-written, you see.  There are twists and turns in the plot which always leave a surprise or two for the reader."

Rushton jumped up onto Seville's desk chair and peered at the computer screen.  "I see you're writing about the characters in the book.  I did that, too.  I really liked how they were interesting and even a little quirky but at the same time, very believable.  I thought Linda Reilly created a nice balance with that.  Characters that quirky enough to be fun to read about, making you want to know more about them, but at the same time, believable enough for them to feel really...  real.  Know what I mean?"

"I know exactly what you mean," Seville stated.  "And she even managed to fit in a little romance, there.  Peeps love that sort of stuff, you know?"

"Cats do, too..." sighed Anderson and he rested his head on his paws.

"But the best part of all, of course, was the cat." stated Rushton.

"Of course.  The cats in a book always are," said Seville.

"I could really relate to that cute little calico cat because I was a cat left behind, too," Anderson explained.  "Being cold and hungry and abandoned outdoors is no laughing matter."

"It most certainly isn't," stated Seville, "which, of course, is why Talia set out to rescue that little kitty, right away.  And rescue her, she did."

"And speaking of Talia," continued Seville, "I loved reading about the relationships between her and her family and friends.  Made me want to meet Talia and get to know her along with all the other characters..."

"You mean we could actually meet Talia and her friends?" asked Andy.  "I'd love to do that!"

"Mouses, Andy.  They're characters in a book, not real people although..."

"Although they felt real on account of the way the book was written," and Rushton finished Seville's sentence.

"They sure did.  But back to the actual mystery in the book," began Seville.  "Rushton, did you really have an idea who the killer was before it was revealed?"

"No actually, I didn't.  But I loved how Talia figured it out in the end.  That part was super exciting. Dug a few claws into the chesterfield cushions.  Don't tell the peep, okay?  She doesn't know it was me."

"Yeah, the atmosphere of the book was great," sighed Seville.  "Perfect book to be reading at this time of year when there's a chill in the air and the leaves are starting to colour up and fall.  Actually, I think the book takes place right about now.  Supposed to be just a few weeks before Hallowe'en."

"That's right!" chimed in Anderson.  "Sweater weather."

"Sweater weather!  What do you know about wearing sweaters, Andy?  But you're right, it is a name given to this time of year," agreed Rushton.

"As long as the peeps aren't putting those sweaters on any of us," declared Seville.  "But enough of that, I need to finish up my report for Professor Lyon so you two skedaddle, okay?"

"And I also need to tell all my blog readers that they can WIN AN AUTOGRAPHED COPY of Fillet of Murder of their very own.  All they need do is leave a comment on this blog post by midnight, Atlantic time, Sunday October 4th, making sure I have a way to contact them if their name should be drawn. The giveaway is open worldwide so any one of my readers can win."

"Hey Andy," and Rushton slapped his brother on the back.  "Let's go see if we can convince the peep to make us some fish and chips.  All this talk about the book has given me a craving for something warm and yummy." The two headed out of the room while Seville returned to writing up his report.

"Fish and chips..." Seville murmured.  "Mmmm...  Hang on there boys, I want some, too!" and Seville jumped down from his chair to run after his brothers, Anderson and Rushton. "Some deep fried fish sounds pretty yummy, for sure."

                                  ****************************************

Fillet of Murder is the first book in the Deep Fried Mystery Series written by my pal, Linda Reilly, and published as a Prime Crime Mystery by the Berkley Publishing Group, a division of the Penguin Group.  Connect on-line with Linda through her website, Linda Reilly, or on her Facebook page, Author Linda Reilly.  The cover picture of Linda's book was used with the permission of Linda Reilly, herself.

And remember, Linda is giving away an autographed copy of Fillet of Murder to one lucky reader. To enter, simply leave a comment on this blog post before midnight, Atlantic time, on Sunday October 4th.  The winner will be selected by random drawing on Monday October 5th.  Contest is open world-wide, unless prohibited by law.  No purchase necessary.

pumpkins are orange

Padding into his office, Nerissa looked around, questioningly.  "Uh Sivvers, I thought you were in here workin' on your Hallowe'en assignment for Kitty Lit. 101.  Professor Lyon said our reports are due tomorrow."

"That?  I finished my report ages ago, Niss," Seville quipped back. "I'm working on this now."

Scattered about the office were pumpkins of various shapes and sizes.  A large one sat on the desk where Seville's typewriter had once been.  Nissy batted at a bat that flew by his head.  "Workin' on exactly what and Seville, what's with all the bats?"

A bat was flitting about beside Seville and he flicked it with his tail.  "Oh, those?  They came free with the cauldron.  I'll figure out what to do with them once I sort out these pumpkins."

"Pumpkins?  Cauldron?  MOUSES!  Just what have you been up to in here?"

"After finishing my book report on the Wicked Witch Murder by Leslie Meier, I decided to do some first paw research into all things Hallowe'en.  Cauldrons and pumpkins are both part of the whole Hallowe'en experience, Niss, and like I said, the bats were free," and he pawed one away from the pumpkin sitting on the desk.  "Bonus with purchase."

Nissy rolled his eyes.  "Glad to hear you didn't order up a witch," he added sarcastically.

"She's flying in tonight.  Remind me to ask Peep #1 to pick her up at the airport."

"MOUSES!  Seville, besides makin' a total mess of my office with these pumpkins and bats... Seville, do bats use a litter box?  Mouses, Sivvers!  Besides makin' a total mess of my office with these pumpkins and non litter box usin' bats, what else have you been doin' in here?  And where is your book report?"

Seville pointed to a chair.  Nissy padded over to take a peek at the report sitting on it.  After quickly scanning the first page, he looked up.  "What's all this stuff about the colour orange?"

"Do I have to explain everything to you?" asked Seville with exasperation.  "Did you not notice that the cover of the book was orange?"

"You can't judge a book by its cover, Seville, although I do have to admit, it is orange.  But the book isn't about the colour orange.  It's about a murder and some witches.  MOUSES!"

"Actually," explained Seville, "the book is about a murder and some witches, in the summer leading up to Hallowe'en and at Hallowe'en, cats and peeps carve pumpkins and pumpkins are orange so obviously, the book is about the colour orange.  Plus, as a marmalade cat, I'm orange.  Orange is an extremely beautiful colour.  Good colour about which to write."

"Okay..."  Nissy took a peek at the second page of Seville's report.  "You write about anything other than the colour orange?

"Oh yeah, I wrote all about how I could easily relate to the story on account of my bein' an orange, marmalade cat and, of course, because of all those natural catastrophes.  You know, 'cause they sort of happened to us this year, too."

"You noticed that, huh?" Nerissa looked at his brother with a sense of newly found admiration. He hadn't thought Seville would have picked up on the similarities.

"Of course.  Lucy Stone and her family went through an awful lot of awful stuff in the book. First came all that rain and there was flooding. Our basement flooded this spring, remember? Then there was the wind. Hurricane Arthur attacked us this summer. Remember?  And they had power outages just like us.  Not sure how long theirs was but ours lasted over three days and that was long enough.  And they even had a tree fall down on their house! Well, just a little bit but still, it's like Leslie Meier was writing the story of our lives."

"We didn't have a tree fall down on our house, Seville."

"No but the people at the end of the street did."

"Oh yeah.  Forgot about that.  MOUSES!"  Nissy flipped to page three of Seville's book report. "You mention anythin' about witches in this report?  They're sort of integral to the plot."

"Of course I did, Niss.  I mentioned that one of the witches had a cat.  Remember Piewocket?"

"I liked Piewocket.  Would have liked him to have had a bigger role in the book but, you know, that's probably just me," Nissy mused.  "I'm a little biased, bein' a cat and all."

"I would have liked Piewocket to be an orange cat like me," muttered Seville.  "Of course, his bein' black was probably the more appropriate choice, in this case."

"Piewocket was a super nice cat.  I sure was glad when Lucy found him at Diana's shop and brought him home with her.  It would have been nice had the dog been more welcoming to Piewocket but not every dog likes kitties stayin' in their house, I guess.  But Lucy's husband Bill could have made a bigger effort," Nissy added.  "MOUSES!"

"Were you at all surprised that Diana didn't ask Lucy to go get Piewocket in the first place, Niss? Lucy just sort of found him at the shop while collecting the stuff for Diana's spells."

"That did surprise me, Sivvers.  Our safety and well-bein' would have been Peep #1's first priority in such a situation.  The peep would have been way more concerned about gettin' us than gettin' stuff to cure a little case of poison ivy.  Of course, the peep isn't a witch.  And she's never had poison ivy.  Might make a difference, I think."

"Yup," Seville agreed.  The cats sat in silence for a moment.

"You know what I liked best about the book, Seville?  I liked how the peep that I was sure was the murderer, wasn't.  The peep that I wanted to believe was the killer turned out to be an okay guy. Even a bit of a hero.  He actually stopped additional murders from happening.  And speakin' of that, I was so scared for Lucy at the end.  I thought she was gonna be a goner, for sure.  My whiskers were all a-quiver."

"I know what you mean!" Seville cried in agreement.  "I didn't like that guy one bit.  I wanted him to be the killer, so badly, just so that he'd get locked up in jail but then, he ended up saving Lucy."

"Like I said before, Seville, you can't judge a book by its cover."

Seville thought about his brother's statement.  "Well, maybe you can't but I can.  Like I said before, the cover of the book is orange.  It's a good colour."

Nissy stared at his brother.  "Anywho...  What exactly are you gonna do with all these pumpkins?"

"Well, I've carved them for Hallowe'en and now, I'm going to use their insides to make pumpkin soup.  That's why I needed the cauldron.  Lots of cats like pumpkin, Niss.  At least that's what I've heard."

Nissy pawed at a book lying on the floor next to Seville's cauldron.  "This a book of spells or somethin'?" he asked.

"Nah, it's just one of the Peep's cookbooks.  I needed a recipe for the soup.   Pumpkin, cream and some stock and stuff.  I'm going to add a paw full or two of nip as I'm pretty sure it will be an improvement on the recipe."

"Definitely," agreed Nissy.  "Maybe you can take a bowl of this stuff to Professor Lyon, tomorrow.  Might get you bonus marks on your book report or somethin'."

"You're so right, Niss!  It'll be perfect.  After all, pumpkin soup is orange.  Just like the book.  He's going to love it."

"And perhaps you can take him the bats, too," added Nissy, before swatting one that was flitting about by his tail.  "Those bats are drivin' me batty, for sure.  MOUSES!"

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The Wicked Witch Murder is the sixteenth book in the Lucy Stone Mystery Series, written by the acclaimed author Leslie Meier and published by the Kensington Publishing Corporation, copyright 2010 by Leslie Meier.  Connect on-line with Leslie through her website Leslie Meier Books or on her Facebook page, Leslie Meier - Mystery Writer.