It’s Harriet’s fault. The whole miserable day! If my sister hadn’t summoned a pillow out of the ether simply because she didn’t want to move, none of this would have happened. Yes, it was bad timing. Harriet didn’t realize that Becca was, at that very moment, trying out a summoning spell of her own. But if Harriet were paying attention to anything other than her own comfort, she might have realized what was going on. Then again, she might simply have made the effort to move over to the sofa, rather than do a lazy bit of magic, no matter how easy it is for her.

As it is, this is probably one of the worst days in my life. For starters, both Harriet and Laurel are now furious with me. They’re both older than me and I know I should have behaved with more respect and not lashed out at them like that. But really – don’t they have any sense?

Worse than that, now Becca thinks she has magical powers. After all, that pillow appeared just as she finished her silly spell. And Becca being a young and enthusiastic Wiccan, a newcomer to the idea of witchcraft, she can’t be expected to realize the truth of the matter. But Harriet? Well, it’s as clear as the whiskers on my face that she should have known better.

What? Didn’t you notice? I’m a cat. A calico, to be specific, “Clara the calico, Clara the clown,” my sisters call me, on days like this. We three live with Becca, a human, in Cambridge, Massachusetts. Becca thinks she adopted us, of course. In truth, we were sent to live with her, for reasons I can’t really remember. Maybe it had to do with Becca trying to be a witch – although any self-respecting feline would have been able to tell her that human mouths can’t pronounce the spells correctly. That is, if only we cats were able to communicate directly.

As it is, I’m stuck pacing back and forth as Becca prepares for the arrival of her coven. Harriet is sulking over in the corner, and Laurel is up on the bookshelf, glaring down at both of us. I’m worried about Becca. This coven is bad news – too many rivalries and that handsome warlock Trent just smells like trouble, even if Laurel thinks he’s perfect for Becca. Now that she thinks she can do magic, the situation is only going to get worse. There’s only so much I, as a cat, can do.

You can read more about Clara and her feline sisters in A Spell of Murder, the first book in the NEW “Witch Cats of Cambridge” cozy paranormal series from Clea Simon and Polis Books. “Delightful,” raves Publishers Weekly. “You don’t have to be a cat lover to appreciate this paranormal cozy’s witty observations, entertaining dialogue, and astute characterizations.”

“It’s Harriet’s fault. It’s always her fault, not that she’ll ever admit it.” So begins A Spell of Murder: A Witch Cats of Cambridge mystery, the first in a new cozy series that mixes feline fiction with a touch of the paranormal, and a little romance as well.

Becca, newly single and newly unemployed, wants to believe she has psychic powers. With nothing but time – and a desire for empowerment – she’s studying to become a witch. What she doesn’t know is that her three cats – Harriet, Laurel, and Clara – are the ones with the real power. And when Harriet – “a cream-colored longhair with more fur than commonsense” – conjures a pillow for her own comfort, Becca believes her spells are finally working. Could that be why Trent, the coven’s devilishly handsome leader, has been showing her special attention? Or why Suzanne, a longtime coven member, draws her aside to share a secret – a confidence that may lead to murder?

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About the author
A former journalist and music critic, Clea Simon wrote three nonfiction books, including the Boston Globe bestseller The Feline Mystique (St. Martin’s), before turning to a life of crime (fiction). Her more than two dozen mysteries usually involve cats or rock and roll, or some combination thereof. A native of New York, she moved to Massachusetts to attend Harvard and now lives nearby in Somerville. You can reach Clea at cleasimon.com or follow her on Twitter @Clea_Simon.

All comments are welcomed.