Hi, I’m Quincy. I’m a butterscotch tabby cat and, if I do say so myself, pretty darn cute. I don’t say anything in the Fat Cat books, but I get my points across. Dru Ann wants me to talk to you today, to let the cat out of the bag—get it? Happy to oblige. I’m a helpful sort of guy.
There are two humans who think they are in control of me. One is Charity Oliver. Her business partner, co-owner of the Bar None dessert bar shop in Dinkytown (part of Minneapolis), calls her Charity, but I’ve never heard anyone else call her that. Most people call her Chase. Personally (except I’m not a person—categorically?), I think she’s called Chase because she’s always chasing after me. The employees call her Ms. Oliver. She wants them to call her Chase, but they can’t quite bring themselves to do that. After all, she’s their boss.
The other human is the writer, Janet Cantrell. But, honestly, she doesn’t have much control over anything in my world. I wouldn’t tell her that, but it’s true.
My typical day used to start with yummy din dins in the apartment I share with Chase, above the shop. Lately, however, she pours some dreary substitute for edibles into my bowl. Don’t worry, I sniff disdainfully and walk away. Diet cat food is not something I’ll ever eat. She’ll give in eventually.
When Chase is ready to open the shop, I follow her downstairs and take up my first job, guarding the office. Sometimes Chase spends the morning in there, staring at the lit screen and pushing some clackity keys beneath it. I do what I can to help. I keep her lap warm and push a key every once in awhile. When there are papers to deal with, I swat them onto the floor for her.
I’ll admit, most of my office time is spent sleeping on the job, but don’t tell anyone. This is a cushy job and I’d hate to lose it. I remember being wet, cold, and scared on the beach of Lake Michigan before my litter was rescued. Lately, to tell you the truth, I’m weak from hunger. The sooner everyone realizes that I need sustenance, the better.
I can sometimes count on Anna Larson, Chase’s business partner, to take pity and slip me some dessert bar crumbs. Less often now, after that visit to the veterinarian. Dr. Ramos tried to tell Chase that I’m less than perfect, and more than my ideal weight. I don’t know what she sees in him. Okay, he knows which spot to rub on my head, but really—diet cat food?
One of the best times of my day is after hours in the kitchen. When the office door opens in the evening, that’s my signal to do my second job. I call it counter patrol. I make sure all the crumbs from the day’s baking are taken care of. I’ll tell you though, these really are crumbs, not the good-sized tidbits that Anna gives me. Still, it’s fun helping clean up.
I’ll tell you, though, I have my eye on that back door. I’ve smelled what’s out there. It’s a wondrous wide world, I think. Don’t get me wrong, the smells in here are delightful, but I get whiffs of bird, squirrel, trash bin, and dozens of other delights when that door opens.
Some day, if I time it just right, I know I can get out there and explore. I don’t want to live there—I love living here—I just want to see for myself. I guess I’m curious. (I’m a cat, get it?) I wouldn’t ever get into any trouble, I’d just have a look around. Some day soon!
You can read more about Quincy in Fat Cat At Large, the first book in the new “Fat Cat” mystery series, published by Berkley Prime Crime.
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Meet the author
Janet Cantrell is a pen name for Kaye George, Agatha nominated novelist and short story writer. She belongs to Sisters in Crime, Guppies, and Austin Mystery Writers. Her cozy Fat Cat mystery series debuts in September of 2014 with Fat Cat At Large, featuring Quincy, a pudgy, adorable cat who is an accomplished escape artist. Especially when he’s on a diet and hungry. Leave it to Quincy to lead his human, Chase, co-owner of a Minneapolis dessert bar shop, into trouble. Janet lives in Knoxville TN with her husband. Her recently departed feline, Agamemnon, is a source for some of Quincy’s antics.