Cat In A White Tie And Tails

He could sense her eyes searching his expression for underlying motives. He kept it noncommittal. She fed on extreme emotion.

“You’d see me secretly?” she asked. “Leave your precious fiancée in the dark?”

“You can certainly see me secretly any time you like,” he pointed out.

She edged closer. “You think you can save my soul.”

“I’d have to find it first.”

“What arrogance! Souls don’t exist, but guilt does. Do you want to know my bet?”

“Breathless about it.” He was already seeing his refusal to overreact had drawn her into his bargain. He would have felt a little like Satan if she hadn’t been playing the same role.

She pressed herself close, full frontal, her upraised hands at his sides. He controlled the urge to draw back or push away, but his fingers made claws, ready to repulse another razor-knife attack.

She whispered, “I’m betting I can unchain your inner devil. Your body will betray you before my lost soul will fail me.”

Her hands clapped to his sides. He resisted the instinct to grab her wrists to hold off any unseen weapon. Her raised knee slid up the inside of his thigh. She habitually won by making love–hate, not war.

Matt was betting Kathleen’s obsession to seduce would keep her from killing him … too soon anyway. This unholy bargain with a sociopath would test just how good he was, as a psychologist and a man.

Tailpiece

Midnight Louie Has Mixed Feelings

I cannot believe it. After my expedition to the Oasis Hotel and reunion with the winsome Topaz, it looks as if little me is finally going to get the girl! This is unprecedented for the usual hard-luck noir hero. Usually the girl gets him.

I am an unusual dude for one of my breed, although I will admit, when pressed … or petted … that I am an exceptional example of it.

Yet both of my poor Miss Temple’s beaux are dallying with wicked women. What a rude turn of events. I must have words with my collaborator. She had not mentioned my promotion to Number One Male in this book.

I would have taken a thorough bath while Miss Temple was showering so I could appear in peak, glossy glory in the key bedroom scene of the Entire Book. At last my potential as an all-species sex symbol has been realized and allowed to shine forth.

I must admit I am … speechless.

Please do not mistake that for modesty.

I do not.

Very Best Fishes,

Midnight Louie, Esq.

If you’d like information about getting Midnight Louie’s free Scratching Post-Intelligencer newsletter and/or buying his custom T-shirt and other cool things, contact Carole Nelson Douglas at P.O. Box 331555, Fort Worth, Texas 76163-1555 or the Web site at www.carolenelsondouglas.com. E-mail: cdouglas@catwriter.com.

Tailpiece

Carole Nelson Douglas on Other Matters

Because some of the earlier Midnight Louie mysteries are dedicated to “the real and original Midnight Louie, nine lives are not enough,” some readers have thought the inspiring stray cat was part of my personal family.

Not so. His rescue was detailed in the Tailpiece to the first Midnight Louie book, Catnap. The woman who rescued the koi-loving homeless black cat from a Palo Alto motel and shipped him to her Minnesota apartment found him friendly but unable to adapt to confined living arrangements.

She put a long and intriguingly expensive ad in the classifieds section (remember those?) of the newspaper I worked for as a reporter and feature writer, offering him to a good home for one dollar. (She’d spent a lot more than that on his airfare back.)

I’d always liked to follow offbeat “leads” and wrote an article on Louie’s journey and the new home he found on a farm. After writing the first who/what/when/where sentence, I paused. Maybe I should let the cat tell his tale in his own words. Maybe the real and original Midnight Louie inspired me to do just that. Black cats do have that “mystical” aura.