Feline Fatale

Informationen zum Autor Rita Mae Brown and Sneaky Pie Brown , a tiger cat rescued from the local SPCA, have collaborated on numerous Mrs. Murphy mysteries; they are involved in many local events to raise money for animal shelters. Rita Mae Brown also writes the Sister Jane Arnold Outfoxed series and the Mags Rogers series, and has authored the memoir Animal Magnetism . She and Sneaky Pie live with many other rescued animals. Klappentext The bill s chief detractor is the glamorous Amanda Fields, a former newscaster turned delegate whose flair for the dramatic has earned her a formidable reputation and made her more than a few enemies. Amanda s claws-out approach to politics might have some of her colleagues wishing she was dead, but the statehouse is rocked when one of the young pages who assists the delegates dies under mysterious circumstances. Leseprobe 1 A snowdrop peeked out, a little white bloom surrounded by glistening snow. Two inches fell last night. The six-petaled flower was protected by the farmhouse overhang. Mary Minor Harry Haristeen knelt down to examine its pristine beauty. Spring. She smiled. Snow or not. Eventually a palette of color . . . ?peach, yellow, pink shimmering purple, and subtle lavender . . . ?would fill the yard, pastures would begin to turn electric green. Those bulbs she planted will all come up once it's really spring, Tucker, the corgi, informed the Irish Wolfhound, now mostly grown but still a puppy at a year and a few months. She spent a lot of time digging last fall, the handsome fellow replied. But she can't eat flowers. So much effort. Pirate, everything doesn't need to be food. She likes color. Fragrance. Humans are like that. Oh. The big fellow sniffed the tiny bloom while Harry watched. The summer screened-in porch was closed in winter with wooden siding, and windows to allow light in. The animal door remained in the wooden door to the kitchen. The screen door was removed, replaced by a solid door to the outside. This, too, had an animal door. A gray cat head pushed out the flap, but nothing else. Pewter, the large gray cat, hated the cold. I am not getting my paws wet. Who asked you to? Tucker sniffed. Everything is more fun when I'm involved, came the saucy reply. You are mental. Tucker sounded authoritative, then under her breath whispered to Pirate, Nuts. Oh, the big youngster again said. Mrs. Murphy, the pretty tiger cat seated on the old wooden bench alongside one wall, advised Pewter, Don't get her started. She's been in a mood since you snitched her dog biscuit. You don't even like dog biscuits. Was fun to hear her whine. Are you talking about me? Tucker asked. Pewter pulled her head back in, relieved to be away from even a brief time in the cold. Dogs aren't worth talking about. Deciding she'd go into the kitchen in case Pewter decided to whap Tucker when the corgi's face pushed through the door flap, Mrs. Murphy flicked her tail up and jumped on the kitchen table. The kitchen, warm, seemed to her the happiest room in the old white clapboard farmhouse. Tucker, wisely fearing a slap, hung back, waiting for Harry to open the door. As she did, the corgi pressed next to her leg, Pirate behind the two of them. When the slender woman opened the kitchen door, Tucker shot inside, Pewter right behind her, a paw swinging at the tailless butt. Pewter, leave her alone, Harry quietly commanded. Leaping onto the kitchen table, the gray cat blinked, then washed her paw. Dogs are a lower life-form. I don't know why you bother. What are you two doing on the table anyway? All the better to see your pretty face, Pewter mocked her, although Harry was pretty. Opening a big porcelain jar on the counter under the window, Harry ...

Auteur

Rita Mae Brown and Sneaky Pie Brown, a tiger cat rescued from the local SPCA, have collaborated on numerous Mrs. Murphy mysteries; they are involved in many local events to raise money for animal shelters. Rita Mae Brown also writes the “Sister” Jane Arnold Outfoxed series and the Mags Rogers series, and has authored the memoir Animal Magnetism. She and Sneaky Pie live with many other rescued animals.

Texte du rabat

Politicians fight like cats and dogs, but when things take a deadly turn at the Virginia House of Delegates, Mary Minor "Harry" Haristeen calls on her beloved pets to help her crack the case and stop the fur from flying in this latest mystery from Rita Mae Brown and her feline co-author Sneaky Pie Brown.

Spring flowers may be about to bloom in Crozet, Virginia, but Harry is thinking about snow. Her dear friend Ned Tucker is in the House of Delegates, advocating for a bill to improve road clearing during bad weather, and Harry and Ned’s wife, Susan, have gone down to the statehouse to support him. Tensions are high between political parties, and no one can agree on anything for long enough to get something done.

The bill’s chief detractor is the glamorous Amanda Fields, a former newscaster turned delegate whose flair for the dramatic has earned her a formidable reputation—and made her more than a few enemies. Amanda’s claws-out approach to politics might have some of her colleagues wishing she was dead, but the statehouse is rocked when one of the young pages who assists the delegates dies under mysterious circumstances.

Could his death be related to the political infighting? Or is something even more sinister threatening the lives of Virginia’s finest representatives? With help from her feline sidekicks, Mrs. Murphy and Pewter, as well as Tee Tucker the corgi and Irish Greyhound Pirate, Harry is determined to find the answers and restore order once more to the Capitol.

Échantillon de lecture
1

A snowdrop peeked out, a little white bloom surrounded by glistening snow. Two inches fell last night. The six-petaled flower was protected by the farmhouse overhang.

Mary Minor “Harry” Haristeen knelt down to examine its pristine beauty.

“Spring.” She smiled. Snow or not.

Eventually a palette of color . . . ​peach, yellow, pink shimmering purple, and subtle lavender . . . ​would fill the yard, pastures would begin to turn electric green.

“Those bulbs she planted will all come up once it’s really spring,” Tucker, the corgi, informed the Irish Wolfhound, now mostly grown but still a puppy at a year and a few months.

“She spent a lot of time digging last fall,” the handsome fellow replied. “But she can’t eat flowers. So much effort.”

“Pirate, everything doesn’t need to be food. She likes color. Fragrance. Humans are like that.”

“Oh.” The big fellow sniffed the tiny bloom while Harry watched.

The summer screened-in porch was closed in winter with wooden siding, and windows to allow light in. The animal door remained in the wooden door to the kitchen. The screen door was removed, replaced by a solid door to the outside. This, too, had an animal door.

A gray cat head pushed out the flap, but nothing else. Pewter, the large gray cat, hated the cold. “I am not getting my paws wet.”

“Who asked you to?” Tucker sniffed.

“Everything is more fun when I’m involved,” came the saucy reply.

“You are mental.” Tucker sounded authoritative, then under her breath whispered to Pirate, “Nuts.”

“Oh,” the big youngster again said.

Mrs. Murphy, the pretty tiger cat seated on the old wooden bench alongside one wall, advised Pewter, “Don’t get her started. She’s been in a mood since you snitched her dog biscuit. You don’t even like dog biscuits.”

“Was fun to hear her whine.”

“Are you talking about me?” Tucker asked.

Pewter pulled her head back in, relieved to be away fr…