Christine was a good one, though. She loved cats every bit as much as Rhonda had, which meant that Grizabella now had a host of new sisters, also award-winning show Himalayans.
Unfortunately, the injury Grizabella had sustained when Jamison threw her in their fight meant that her show days were over, but even though I knew she’d never admit it, I suspected Grizabella was happy to retire and live out the rest of her days as a well-loved pet and a very minor Instagram influencer.
I typed the comment: Octavius says, “She’s beautiful and he loves her and misses her and cannot wait until fate brings them together again.”
Christine and everyone else thought I was just being an overly dramatic pet owner with these comments, and I was happy to let them believe that. After all, I really did love my cat bunches.
Right after I pushed enter, the doorbell chimed to the tune of “Memories” from the Broadway show Cats. I hadn’t realized Grizabella was named for the play, but Nan made the connection immediately and made sure we mixed in plenty of Andrew Lloyd Weber scores to complement our constant string of Christmas carols.
“I’ll be right back,” I told the swoony tabby.
He didn’t even acknowledge me as I dismissed myself, such was the enormity of a new photo from his lady love—even though we got at least one of them every single day. Young love, adorable.
“Coming!” I called as I bounded down the stairs. The stained-glass windows that hung on either side of the entryway cast rainbow shapes against the hardwood floor but did not reveal the identity of the person waiting on the porch.
When I flung the door open, an unfamiliar young woman stood waiting with a suitcase at her side.
“Cousin!” she cried and reached out to hug me.
I awkwardly accepted her embrace, and upon pulling away, I realized that I did recognize her.
Mostly because her face was almost an exact replica of mine. We were also both tall and curvy. The most noticeable differences between us were the fact that her hair was so blonde it was almost white while mine took on more of a sandy brown hue. Also, I wore an awesome 80s inspired outfit while she sported a prim cardigan buttoned up to the neck and a flowing peasant skirt that reached down to her ankles. A giant gold filigree locket hung halfway down her chest, reminding me of Rhonda’s heirloom necklace.
She bit her lip as she studied me, then started to panic, her skin turning bright red as she did. “Oh, no. You are Angie, aren’t you? Oh my gosh. If you’re not, I’m so embarrassed right now.”
“I am Angie,” I said with a friendly smile. “I just didn’t realize anyone was coming.”
“My aunt told your nan and… Let me guess, she didn’t relay the message?”
“Sounds like your aunt and my nan have a lot in common,” I said with a laugh. “Please, please come in.”
I took her suitcase and set it by the stairs, then guided her to the kitchen in search of snacks. Snacks made everything better, especially Nan’s homemade baked goods.
My cousin accepted a bottle of Evian and twisted the cap off at once. “You must have gotten quite the shock. I’m sorry nobody told you I’d be coming for the rest of the year.”
This made me pause in my search. “The rest of the year?”
“Well, I mean it’s just a couple more weeks, right? Sixteen days total, actually, just like you were supposed to have for your trip to Larkhaven. I couldn’t wait to meet you, so Aunt Linda suggested I come to you instead. Only I flew instead of taking the train. I mean, who would want to take a train when there are so many faster ways to travel these days?” She giggled and made a funny face. If I hadn’t already decided I liked her, that would have definitely done the trick.
I laughed again as I handed my guest one of the chocolate chip banana muffins that Nan had baked just yesterday. “Well, I may not have known you were coming, but I’m really happy you’re here. This may be a teensy bit awkward, but… Um, what’s your name?”
“Oh, gosh! Sorry! Mags McAllister here,” she said, hugging me tight again and speaking around a mouth full of muffin. “Your long-lost cousin from Larkhaven, Georgia, and I can already tell that we’re going to get along just great!”
Warmth spread through me as I relaxed into her embrace.
I’d never had a sister, brother, or cousin with Mom being an only child—a fact I constantly bemoaned growing up. But now with Mags here, I sensed how important this new cousin would become to me.
And even though I didn’t quite know it yet, the next couple weeks would show just how important, indeed.
What’s Next?
Nobody does the holidays like small-town Maine, and my particular small town just so happens to be the very best at decking the halls and rocking around the big Christmas tree downtown.
Yes, every year, Glendale puts on a Holiday Spectacular that’s grander and greater than the one that came before. Unfortunately, the only thing everyone’s going to remember this year is the two dead bodies that show up in the center of the ice sculpture garden.
With the whole town having come out to play, everyone’s in close proximity to the crime scene—and everyone’s a suspect. A great many fingers are pointed my way, too, since it was me and my cat that discovered the deathly duo. With only my whacky Nan, recently discovered cousin, overly optimistic Chihuahua, and snarky feline to help me, can I clear my name and save Christmas all in one perfectly executed investigation?
Hold on to your jingle bells, because it’s going to be a wild ride.
Pre-order to save! HOPPY HOLIDAY HOMICIDE is just $2.99 until it releases on December 12.
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Sneak Peek: Hoppy Holiday Homicide
Hi. I’m Angie Russo, and while you may not immediately recognize it, I’m probably one of the most unusual people you’ll ever meet.
Why?
Well, how many other people do you know who can communicate with animals? And, no, I’m not talking meows, woofs, and chirps. We have actual conversations, and we even solve crimes together—but I’m getting ahead of myself here.
Before I say any more—shhh!—my strange ability is a secret that must be protected at all costs. Not because I’m in danger or anything, just because I’d rather people not know.
Okay?
And, no, I’m not a witch, werewolf, or other kind of fictional supernatural creature. I’m just a normal girl in her late twenties who got electrocuted by an old coffee maker and woke up with the power to communicate with animals.
First, it was just the one cat, Octo-Cat as I call him. He was in the room when I got zapped. We were both there for a will reading, me as the lowly paralegal and him as the primary beneficiary.
When he realized I could understand him, he revealed that his late owner had been murdered even though everyone thought the rich old lady had died of natural causes. Turns out that wasn’t what had happened at all.
She’d been murdered, and now he needed me to help him prove it.
Well, we got justice for Ethel Fulton and eventually wound up living in her stately manor home. Since none of the relatives wanted Octo-Cat and I really, really wanted him, we ended up together, too.
We live with my eccentric grandmother, who’s known around these parts simply as Nan. A few months ago, we also adopted a rescue Chihuahua named Paisley. She’s the sugar to Octo-Cat’s spice, and the cute little thing can never say a bad word about anyone…
Well, except for about the naughty raccoon named Pringle who lives in our backyard. He used to live under the porch, but then he kind of blackmailed us into building him a custom treehouse—two treehouses, actually. Oh, boy, is that a long story.