Resultados de "Molly Fitz" en Todas las categorias

Ever since Angie Russo woke up from a near fatal run-in with a coffee maker, she's been able to talk to - and even worse, understand - one very spoiled tabby named Octavius. He says his owner was murdered and that she's the only one who can help bring the killer to justice. And, well, that's just the first of the wonderfully whacky mysteries they solve together. Add in a traumatized terrier witness and two murderous Sphynx cats who speak only in riddles, toss on your favorite deerstalker cap, and let's go sleuthing!

Apparently, I've been slacking on the job as a paralegal, even though the firm doesn't know that I'm secretly working as the area's premier Pet Whisperer P.I. to solve our toughest cases behind the scenes. Now, they've hired an intern to "help" me manage my workload.... But what the partners don't realize is that they've let a nefarious criminal into our offices. Trust me, Octo-Cat can smell this guy's stink from a mile away. The worst part? I'm pretty sure he can talk to animals too...and he most definitely isn't using his talents to solve crimes and defend the innocent.

I never signed up to be a private investigator with a snarky, talking cat for a partner, but there's no backing down now. Especially considering a prominent politician was murdered pretty much right in my backyard. The only witnesses were the senator's two hairless cats, Jacques and Jillianne. Normally pets want to help us solve their owner's murders, but this time it seems the two devious felines might actually be the ones who committed it....

I'm finally coming to terms with the fact I can speak to animals, even though the only one who ever talks back is the crabby tabby I've taken to calling Octo-Cat. What I haven't quite worked out is how to hide my secret. Now one of the associates at my law firm has discovered this strange new talent of mine and insists I use it to help defend his client against a double murder charge. To make things worse, Octo-Cat has no intention of helping either of us.

I was just your normal twentysomething with seven associate degrees and no idea what I wanted to do with my life. That is, until I died...Well, almost. As if a near-death experience at the hands of an old coffeemaker wasn't embarrassing enough, I woke up to find I could talk to animals. Or rather one animal in particular. I've taken to calling him Octo-Cat. He talks so fast he can be difficult to understand, but seems to be telling me that his late owner didn't die of natural causes like everyone believes.

Mein Name ist Gracie Springs, und ich habe keine magischen Kräfte … aber mein Kater allem Anschein nach schon! Ich hatte da zunächst so ein Gefühl, als ich sah, wie er einem Rotkehlchen in unserem Garten hinterherjagte und ungewöhnlich hoch in die Luft sprang. Als er dann auch noch mit mir sprach, gab es keinen Zweifel mehr!

Ich war eine ganz normale Mittzwanzigerin mit sieben Hochschulabschlüssen, aber noch keinerlei Vorstellung davon, was ich mit meinem Leben anfangen wollte. Das heißt, bis ich gestorben bin Naja, beinahe jedenfalls. Als ob eine Nahtoderfahrung aufgrund einer defekten alten Kaffeemaschine nicht schon peinlich genug wäre, wachte ich auch noch auf und musste feststellen, dass ich plötzlich mit Tieren sprechen konnte, oder vielmehr mit einem ganz bestimmten Tier: einem Kater.

Seit Angie Russo nach einem beinahe tödlichen Zusammenstoß mit einer Kaffeemaschine wieder das Bewusstsein erlangt hat, ist sie in der Lage, mit einem äußerst verwöhnten Kater namens Octavius sprechen und, was noch schlimmer ist sie kann sogar verstehen, was er ihr antwortet. Octocat, wie sie ihn der Einfachheit halber nennt, ist fest davon überzeugt, dass seine Besitzerin umgebracht wurde und sie die Einzige ist, die helfen kann, den Mörder zur Strecke zu bringen.

My name is Tawny Bigford. I'm 35, single, and I love hot showers. Seriously, all I wanted was a hot shower to start my day off right, but when I went to confront my landlady about the broken plumbing, I wound up talking to her corpse instead. Now, everyone thinks I'm to blame for her murder—not the best way to make an impression on the new neighbors, let me tell you. But how can I prove I'm innocent when I know practically nothing about the woman I supposedly killed?

My name is Tawny Bigford. I'm 35, single, and I love hot showers. Seriously, all I wanted was a hot shower to start my day off right, but when I went to confront my landlady about the broken plumbing, I wound up talking to her corpse instead. Now everyone thinks I'm to blame for her murder--not the best way to make an impression on the new neighbors, let me tell you. But how can I prove I'm innocent when I know practically nothing about the woman I supposedly killed?

In the sleepy Georgian town of Elderberry Heights, danger lurks around every counter but the laughs are never far behind. Join Merlin and his sidekick Gracie as they fight off evil ex-girlfriends, vicious ghosts, and even a horde of zombie squirrels. If you love quirky humor and madcap magical adventures, then you do not want to miss this hot new series from a USA Today bestselling author.

For my last two assignments, the cat boss, Mr. Fluffikins had to drag me in kicking and screaming. This time around, I'm all too willing to play their little game. It's high time I learned why they plucked me from my ordinary everyday life and thrust me into this crazy new world filled with danger and magic. But it's not going to be easy. Especially when the PTA orders me to help resident vampire Connie investigate a new coven that's just popped up in our sleepy little town of Beech Grove. For this mission, they grant me temporary vampire status and all the perks and the punishments.

It was hard enough serving as my witchy cats familiar when we only had to deal with threats we could see. Now he's gotten himself into a bitter feud with a newly dispatched ghost, leaving me to wonder: How in the heck are we supposed to defeat this thing? I miss the simple days when all I had to worry about was finishing my thesis paper and not getting fired from my part-time job as a barista.

When my cat brought me a dead bird as a present, I cringed. When that dead bird suddenly flitted back to life, I screamed. At first, I shrugged it off as one of the random things that happens when your roommate is a magical cat, but then it kept happening. Turns out a familiar foe is creating an army of undead creatures with the goal of forcing us to surrender. But Merlin and I refuse to let dark magic prevail—not when the entire existence of magic is now at stake. And if magic dies, so too will all who wield it.

Mr. Fluffikins is the small black cat responsible for overseeing the most powerful supernatural beings in the small Southern town of Beech Grove. He's also charged with keeping the world of magic hidden from those without it.

After my last assignment almost killed me, I thought I was done with the Paranormal Temp Agency. Turns out we were just getting started. The board of paranormal liaisons is down a member, leaving Beech Grove vulnerable to outside magical influence. Worse still, the stray cats who work as our field agents are disappearing from the streets—and they're not winding up in shelters.

Ich habe mich nie bewusst dazu entschieden, Privatdetektivin zu werden, schon gar nicht mit einem überheblichen, sprechenden Kater als Co-Ermittler, aber jetzt gibt es kein Zurück mehr. Vor allem nicht in Anbetracht der Tatsache, dass eine prominente Politikerin direkt bei mir nebenan ermordet wurde.

Ich habe mich endlich mit der Tatsache abgefunden, dass ich mit Tieren sprechen kann, auch wenn das einzige Tier, das mir jemals antwortet, eine mürrische, getigerte Katze ist, die ich Octocat nenne. Noch weiß ich allerdings nicht wirklich, wie ich mein Geheimnis vor anderen verbergen kann ...

My name is Gracie Springs, and I am not a witch… but I’m pretty sure my cat is. I first started to get suspicious when he jumped just a little too high while chasing after a robin in our front yard. I knew for sure when he opened up his mouth and addressed me by name! The first thing he told me? That he doesn’t like the name I gave him—even though “Fluffy” fits him like a warm sweater at Christmas. Now we’ve compromised on “Merlin the Magical Fluff,” which according to him references his long and proud lineage just fine.

Is this nosy trash panda a sleuth or a suspect? Lately my life has seemed pretty perfect-great house, great gig as my own boss, great new boyfriend, and the world's most awesome talking cat. Turns out I shouldn't have let my guard down. Even though my private investigation firm is brand new, I've already got some not-so-friendly competition, and it's coming from the sticky-fingered raccoon who lives under my front porch. I have no doubt he's robbing his clients since he's stealing from mine, too.