Pelican Book Group 2018 Holiday Extravaganza
Meow Mistletoe, a Fancy Cat holiday mystery
Published by White Rose Publishing, an imprint of Pelican Ventures LLC December 1, 2018
copyright by Lisa J Lickel
About the Novelette
Ivy has just cause to be wary of
men. Her long-time fiancé backed out of their wedding. The slow fizzle of their
undramatic relationship leaves her wondering if romance is a myth. Then, Adam,
an intriguing new member of her pet organization, catches Ivy’s attention.
Unfortunately, his cat Isis, a beautiful purebred Egyptian Mau, prefers to pick
on her cat, Memnet. Ivy would like to get to know Adam better, but with her
self-esteem in the gutter and feline fights at every turn, she wonders how to
proceed.
When Ivy agrees to help a clingy friend find her missing pet, she learns that true love doesn’t need theatrics. There’s hope for Adam and Ivy, if only their cats would approve.
$2.99 EBookWhen Ivy agrees to help a clingy friend find her missing pet, she learns that true love doesn’t need theatrics. There’s hope for Adam and Ivy, if only their cats would approve.
89 pp
Buy at your favorite electronic book outlet or from the publisher
Find out more about Egyptian Mau Cats
Enjoy the following excerpt of Meow Mistletoe, copyright Lisa J Lickel
Chapter 1
“Where’s
Adelaide? Who’s got my baby?”
Pfannie
Morgenstern was such a drama queen. Just look at her nametag. She even drew
little upside down triangles like cat ears over the n’s. I was on a mission to
meet and apologize to Donald’s friend Adam, so I ignored the perpetually
frantic pet owner accosting Christmas partygoers as if they hid her fat Siamese
in their cups of punch.
Then she
grabbed me. “Did you see her, Ivy? She’s got the bluest eyes.” Pfannie sniffed.
“I’ve only been her housemate for four months. She doesn’t know anyone here.”
I looked at her
hand, fingers tipped in crimson like daggers, on my arm. Her wrist jingled with
a charm bracelet—silver, all cats, of course. She sniffed some more and
hesitantly withdrew her dangerous touch.
“It’s just,
Ivy…please, you know everyone here. Help me look, won’t you? Who would want to
kidnap my Adelaide?”
No one, I
wanted to tell her. Adelaide wasn’t even purebred. Judging by the tan patches on
her hips, some calico hedged its way into her family line. And no, I didn’t
know everyone here. But I wanted to. I watched Donald’s hunky pal, Adam
Thompson, stride away.
I slid my eyes
back to Pfannie’s amazing makeup job. I didn’t think she was that much older
than me—maybe thirty-five at the most, and obviously better groomed. Even her
hair was supposed to be chic-messy, sticking out from a bun while mine was just
plain messy, curling all over my shoulders no matter how hard I tried to make
it behave. Doing its own thing—just like a cat. Pfannie was right—cats were not
our pets. They were their housemates.
“How long has
it been since you last saw Adelaide?” I asked, hoping this would be a quick
little piece of cake. “Let’s look over here.”
Seriously, how
hard could it be to find a pet cat among the few dozen animal lovers at our first
ever holiday Cat Association Titlist get-together? And speaking of cake…the
dessert table had at least four kinds of chocolate, reflected in colored glass
balls scattered around the green and plaid tablecloth. I gazed longingly as we
passed on our mission to find Adelaide.
Our little
group was the Illinois branch of a national cat fanciers association. Donald
Conklin, my friend who’d introduced me to the group years ago, before Stanley, was
the outgoing president. Pfannie’s nephew, Almanzo, named after Laura’s husband
in Little House on the Prairie, was incoming president.
We stopped at
various nooks and crannies in the humungous sprawling veterinarian complex
outside of the capital, Springfield, which sponsored our organization. Donald
was the mayor of a tiny little town in western Illinois called Apple Grove. We
weren’t far from there, about forty minutes northeast. It had taken Memnet and
me a couple of hours to drive down here from our place in Maplewood, on the far
western edge of Chicago, where I currently lived alone except for my cat…but not
for long. Yippee! My much-needed fresh start was in the works. That thought alone
pushed me out of my dejection from being ditched. There was nothing like the gloom
of rejection to throw a girl off her game.
As we wandered
the room’s perimeter, I called for Adelaide a couple of times, swishing aside long
coats in the cloak room to peek under them. Hooper’s Animal Haven had an
amazingly designed public area which could be conformed in various layouts for
classes, meetings, or the occasional convention. For the party that evening, a large
gathering room with a buffet and drinks bar had been opened. Three rooms were partitioned
off to the side where pets could visit, supervised, away from their owners, or
have some privacy to take care of business, or try different varieties of food.
Did I mention Hooper’s sold expensive, custom-mixed pet food? As well as
everything a pet owner could, and couldn’t, imagine necessary to provide extraordinary
living experiences for host and…yep, housemate. I should know, as I maintained
their website.
I popped into
the room where my darling Memnet, a purebred silver Egyptian Mau, the only
spotted breed of domestic cat, lay in kingly glory atop a carpeted kitty
playhouse. Ginger, the fourteen-year-old honor student in charge of the room,
waved. He lazily groomed a paw while four other cats, including Donald’s bronze
Mau, Tut, patted toys about.
“Have you seen Mrs.
Morgenstern’s cat?” I asked her. “The Siamese mix?”
Ginger frowned.
Pfannie took a quick inhaled hiss. I cut her off. “Her sweet chubby little
Adelaide?”
“No, ma’am.
Ma’ams.” Ginger shook her head. “Was she assigned to this room? Did you check
the other rooms?”
“We will.” I
smiled at her despite being “ma’am’d” like some little old lady and pulled
Pfannie away. We did. Check the rooms. No Adelaide.
“Isn’t your
boyfriend here?” I asked Pfannie before we got out of the party room. “Rudy?
Ron? R—”
“Rolf.” Pfannie
pursed her lips. Sparks shot from her eyes. “He was. He stepped out for a minute. Half an hour ago.”
Hmm. “So…maybe
Adelaide is with him?”
“No way! She’s
so…so new. She hasn’t decided whether she likes him or not.”
“Well, that
could be a problem.” Oops, had I said that out loud? Fortunately, Pfannie
didn’t act like she’d heard.
Two exits on
either side of the party room led back into the clinic area, while two exits
led outside, one of them to the parking lot.
Pfannie
continued to head for the exterior-side hall out of the party room and into the
main complex. This passageway was decorated with lattice covered in white net
and little lights, like a wedding reception joint. Which this room was on
occasion. Pet weddings were huge. Anyway, in honor of Christmas, a glorious
ball of mistletoe hung from the top of the lattice. Pfannie eyeballed the
mistletoe as we got close. Her tears put out the sparks in her eyes from her
belief in Rolf’s abandonment.
“I’ve forgotten
Rolf’s pet cat’s name,” I said, trying to figure out what was going on. “Maybe
Adelaide is with…him? Her?”
“It’s Junior.
Black with pea green eyes,” Pfannie said.
A memory caught
me. “Isn’t Junior the bicolor with the white bib and tie? A tuxedo? I love
him.” And I did. Junior had won personality of the year two years ago. He and
Mem were buddies.
“He’s so
unimaginative,” Pfannie muttered. “He has no idea how hard it is to do
everything alone. None.” Her teary lashes fluttered at the mistletoe. “Please,
Ivy. What if Adelaide is hurt? Trapped somewhere, and needs me? She has no one
else.”
I scanned the
room. No one was paying any attention to us. Donald was chatting it up with
some folks whose names I couldn’t recall. I couldn’t see Adam. Pfannie wasn’t a
bad sort, just one of those people who needs attention. Constantly. “Sure,” I
told her. “We can keep looking. She’s bound to turn up. It’s a big place but
she has to be somewhere, right?” And it wasn’t like I had anything else to do.
Since my ex-fiancĂ©’s decampment after such a long, fizzled relationship, I
couldn’t get over the desolation of being a rejected half, as if there was
something wrong with me.
Quiet
contemporary jazzy holiday music followed us through the twinkly lights. We
walked on, checking the ladies’ rooms along the wall of the main building
entrance and reception, and under the water fountain.
“Adelaide might
be thirsty and tried to beg a drink of water but no one would help her,”
Pfannie said.
I did not roll
my eyes, though I almost had to physically stick my fingers on the lids to stop
them. Pfannie took the lead when we reached the door of Hooper’s Animal Haven Supply
Salon. The Salon was open for business during the party, naturally.
“Maybe she
sneaked inside,” Pfannie said, with all the feral intent of Christmas shop-aholism,
despite her quest for her missing pet. I followed, even though I was pretty
sure the two clerks would notice a stray Siamese.
It was half an
hour before I could return her attention to our mission. I tugged her away from
the cat sweaters with holes for ears. She weepingly thrust the blue and white
rhinestone-decorated kitty hoodie back into the clerk’s arms. “I’ll be back
later. With Adelaide. To try it on,” she called.
“I’m sure
she’ll turn up,” the chubby clerk yodeled back, waving a matching adult-size scarf
with jingling bells.
Like we were
leaving on the Titanic. This time I
rolled my eyes and dragged Pfannie out the other door of the shop which opened
into the side hall leading back to the party room. The area was surprisingly
dark. I halted and Pfannie crashed into me.
“Wh-what?” she
whispered. “Why’d you stop? Did you hear something?”
“It’s dark,” I
said in my normal voice. “I don’t know why the lights are off. I think the
switches are over here, on the wall near the corner.” I hoped they weren’t covered
and locked. I heard party sounds echoing so I didn’t expect we were off limits.
We’d all had to check in at the reception desk when we arrived.
“I thought you
heard a meow. Or a purr.”
I wouldn’t
willingly interrupt a purr. But footsteps echoed along the hall. Firm steps,
purposeful. I held my breath.
The silhouette
of a back-lit very fit man’s arm pushing open the door to the men’s room sent
Pfannie into action. She scurried forward. “Oh, hey! Sir! Kind sir! Please help
us. Adelaide is missing. I wonder if you wouldn’t mind looking…”
I wasn’t sure
which would be worse, standing there in the dark, or supporting Pfannie’s
dubious request. I shook my head. The person looked past Pfannie toward me.
Once tagged, I had to follow, of course, and approached slowly and most
reluctantly. He probably thought I was a hundred years old.
Shoot me now, I
begged anyone when I neared them. I didn’t need the reflected men’s room light
on the man’s name tag to identify Donald’s friend.
Pfannie
squinted at the tag while taking surreptitious looks into the men’s room, as if
she’d never been inside. She probably hadn’t. “A-adam? Is it you?”
“Yes?” He let
the door close to reach out and take Pfannie’s outstretched hand. We now had
only weak light reflected from the Christmas decorations. “Adam Thompson.”
“Oh, yes,”
Pfannie said. “Widower. Chicago. Smoke Mau.” She nodded, her human resources department
memory in full showoff mode. “Feisty lady. Had some run-ins with Ivy’s fella,
if I recall.”
I was not
exactly a fan of the dark, but in this case my gratitude was unbounded. How
marvelous that Pfannie would recall something I’d tried to put out of my head
for the past eight months, and the reason I wanted to apologize to him. In
person this time. It might take that long to cool the heat percolating around
my face.
Adam peered
around Pfannie.
She half-turned
and indicated me. “You remember Ivy Preston, don’t you?”
“Of course.”
Mortified, I
couldn’t bring myself to speak. I couldn’t be sure, but…had he winked? He faced
Pfannie. “You were saying?”
I twisted and
fanned my face, though I realized that was counter-productive. Frantic motion
would only create more energy and make me warmer.
“But we
shouldn’t keep you,” Pfannie was telling Adam.
“I’ll be happy
to check the room for you,” Adam said. “Though I don’t know how a Siamese cat
would go unnoticed.” His teeth gleamed in the semi-dark. “I’ll just come and
find you in a few minutes, shall I?”
Pfannie
tittered. I had no other word to describe the sound escaping her lips. Adam
glanced briefly in my direction before making it all the way into the men’s
room. I clutched my companion’s elbow and urged her back toward the party.
“C’mon. Maybe Adelaide’s turned up by now. Let’s check with the others.”
“Oh, my. Isn’t
he a hunk? Nasty scars, though.” Pfannie followed along, thoughts of Rolf
apparently not preventing her from hyperventilating over another man.
I admitted a
sting of woe. Pfannie had a past husband and current boyfriend. The unfairness
of life, my mother would tell me if I complained to her. I, too, had wondered
about Adam Thompson’s scarred neck and arm, but being hitched to Stanley
blinded me to appreciating any of his qualities.
“I’ve never
seen such a beautiful creature as his Isis,” Pfannie blathered. “Well deserving
of the Best in Class trophy.” She stopped and set her hand on mine. “We think
the world of you and Memnet, Ivy. Almanzo was telling me the other day he hoped
you’d agree to a seat on the board.” Her eyes got that misty look and made me
mentally start backing up. “If only you and he…well, I mean, now that you and
what’s his name—”
“Ivy! There you
are!” Donald called and beckoned. Good grief! I was so saved. Pfannie was a
very young aunt to a nephew my age. He had learned about my age from official
files of the group that were supposed to be private and made sure to let me
know he thought we would be suitable partners for each other. Almanzo was still
single…go figure…and had managed to date every other single woman in our
branch. Except me, who had been engaged. Last week I turned down two phone
invitations from him to attend this evening’s party together. I contemplated
changing my phone number. And my birthday.
Donald
understood me, and my frame of mind. He also knew how I felt about Christmas, unadulterated
hatred grown stronger with my canceled wedding set for last weekend, and
offered me a sympathetic smile. He had retrieved his cat Tut who was oddly
content in his arms despite the commotion in the room. “I wanted to share
something with you…” His twinkly expression faded only a smidgeon when he
noticed who was with me. “Mrs. Morgenstern. Hello.”
She sniffed.
“Mr. President. Has my Adelaide been found?”
How in the
world did that woman turn the tears on and off like that? What gift.
“I didn’t know
she was missing.” Donald swung his worried eyes toward mine. “Is that where
you’ve been? Looking for her?”
“Yes.” Pfannie
began twisting a lace-edged handkerchief between her hands, setting the cat charms
at her wrist jingling in a clash with the music. “We ran into Adam—Isis’s
companion—who agreed to check in the men’s room for us.”
I choked on the
laughter bubbling up at her statement, stuffed it back but snorted, which only
made me giggle harder. Pfannie narrowed her eyes at me. I grabbed my throat and
made like I needed water. Tut gave an angry hiss and jumped down, sat, and sent
his ears back. Donald must have clutched him in a sensitive spot. Donald
stopped biting his lips and cupped his mouth like a megaphone. “Everyone!
Excuse me, friends!”
Background
noise dissolved like bubbles from flat champagne.
“Has anyone
seen Adelaide, Mrs. Morgenstern’s cat? Let’s all take a look around ourselves.
Think of the last time you might have seen her. And let’s offer up a prayer of
safety, shall we?”
“Oh, I should
have thought of that right away,” Pfannie whispered at me. She raised her hand
to toss in her two cents. “She’s a precious Siamese, quite young. I’m worried
she hasn’t had a chance to get to get comfortable with anyone yet and may have
gone into hiding. Don’t worry, people. No cause to call the authorities. I’m
quite certain this isn’t a case of bullying.”
I choked again on
snorts of glee at her posturing and felt the warmth of someone behind me. “Like
Memnet and Isis,” someone said dryly.
“Hey!” I hissed
at Isis’s “companion,” my need to apologize for the cat fight at last spring’s
convention lost. “Mem was provoked.”
Adam held up
his hands. His slow grin curled my toes. “Maybe.”
Two issues
struck me at the same time. In the few months since Stanley had left me not
quite at the altar but too close for comfort I had managed to thaw toward men.
Not only thaw, but be attracted to a man. I was not dead.
But I’d also
agreed to move a hundred miles away from what might have been the start of a
beautiful relationship.
“Ah, good.”
Donald rubbed his hands together as he joined us. “I’ve been working toward
getting the three of us together all night. Adam and I have been talking.”