Bell Bridge Books

Give cats a little Christmas cheer!

By Corwyn Alvarez

Dear readers, I would like to begin by thanking everyone who has purchased my book, The Dog Walker.  I sincerely appreciate your patronage.  I would also like to thank Bell Bridge for the opportunity to contribute to their blog.  In keeping with my themes which tend to revolve around the needs of homeless animals, I would like to mention that we are fast approaching winter and with this season some homeless animals struggle merely to survive.  I am drawing particular attention here to the needs of feral cats.  Interestingly, I was not a cat lover until several years ago when my friend told me the story of a feral cat in her neighborhood whom she had named Papi kitty or Pop for short.  It seems that her feral cat – that is now around twelve years old – at one time had a wife and two kids.  Over the years his entire family died, either they froze to death or were run over or got sick.  The only one who survived was Pop.

When I heard his story I immediately went into action and began feeding him in the sewer where he lives (when he is done eating I retrieve the empties so it doesn’t clog the sewer).  I have been doing this now for about three years.  When it snows I make sure that I shovel out the sewer opening facing the road so it is clear for him to go in and out.  Needless to say, Pop has won my heart and we have established an understanding with each other and he knows I’m his friend.  I love all cats now as never before, in large part because of Pop.  So if this winter you see any feral cats in your neighborhood I would ask that you please show them some kindness and help them out if you are able.  They are beautiful animals and it breaks my heart to see them roaming the streets, especially when it is cold and the weather is harsh.  Anything that you can do for them, whether as elaborate as having them spayed and neutered, or providing them a warm shelter, or providing them with some dry or wet food would be a great blessing for them.  They depend on our kind actions to survive, no matter how great or how small.  I have attached a photograph of Pop for those of you who might be interested.  A photo of Pop is also posted on my Amazon page.  I wish each and every one of you and everyone at Bell Bridge a safe and joyful holiday season.

The Dog Walker by Corwyn Alvarez is on sale the entire month of December for just $1.99! Click the cover above to purchase! 

The Pawleys

A brief episode in the British family history of Lady Toria Cash, the feline fatale of Downton Tabby

 by Sparkle Abbey

“Can you believe that alley cat?” Lady Meow Grandcatham lifted her whiskers in distain. “Thinking I’d simply fall under the spell of his gorgeous green eyes.”

I shook my head. “He does seem rather cheeky.” I’m Annakatrina, Lady’s Meow’s lady’s maid, and the alley cat she was referring to was Alexander Kittingham who’d apparently made a play for Lady Meow in a big way.

I carefully folded the lace frill she’d worn to dinner and reached for the brush I used every night on her silky black fur. Though I would never bring it up to Lady Meow, talk below stairs was that Alexander Kittingham was not actually a purebred British shorthair. He was often referred to as “Alley” in a disparaging tone, by Thomas Cat, Lord Grandcatham’s valet. Alexander was quite a handsome fellow and a favorite of the ladies around the dinner bowl.

He was nice looking with dark brown fur and deep green eyes, but I was not impressed. You see I’m madly in love with Mr. Bait. Poor Mr. Bait is currently locked up in the pound, but I had no doubt he would be freed.

“Beyond cheeky, I’d say.” Lady Meow lifted her paw to her neck. “Would you help me get out of this collar?”

I pulled on the diamond collar with my teeth and it snapped off easily. Carefully placing it in the ornate trinket box, I picked up the brush again.

Suddenly, there was a scratch at the door and I moved quickly to open it.  Lady Vi, Meow’s grandmother, stepped into the room. She was a formidable feline and referred to as the Dogwagger Countess because even the dogs at the neighboring estates were afraid of her. I don’t believe she’d ever actually bitten anyone canine or otherwise, but all it took was a hiss and the very slight unsheathing of her claws and it was clear she meant business.

“Grandmother.” Lady Meow purred. “What a surprise.”

“Not an unpleasant one, I hope.” The older feline stepped closer so Lady Meow could bump noses with her.

“I’ll leave you.” I moved quietly on soft paws toward the door.

“No, please stay.” The Dogwagger waved her tail in my direction. “I know Meow trusts you.”

“What is it, Grandmama?” Lady Meow dropped on her haunches. “Is something wrong?”

“What is wrong is my sources tell me someone is publishing a catty tell all tome about the Britain’s aristocats. I am told there’s a whole chapter devoted to the Grandcatham Family.” She leaned on the edge of Lady’s Meow’s bed and smoothed her fur.

Lady Meow began to pace. “Have you told Pappa’?

The Dogwagger shook her head. “No, nor your mother. It will be up to us to sort this out.” She gave a deep sigh and tipped her head to look at me. “We must find out who this low-life is and stop him or her before our good name is dragged through the litter box.” Sharp blue eyes pinned me in place.

“What can I do to help, M ‘lady?”

“My dear, you must be our eyes and ears.” The Dogwagger put her paws together as if it were all settled. “You can go places we must not and you will never be noticed.”

I had the thought that not being noticed was hardly complimentary, but knew she was right.

“You will help us, won’t you, Anna?” Lady Meow crossed the room in a single smooth leap to stand in front of me. Her golden eyes searched my face.

“Of course, I will.” I bowed my head.

And thus began my new career as Annakatrina, Cat Sleuth.

What would Mr. Bait think?

*

Downton Tabby, book seven in The Pampered Pets Mysteries by Sparkle Abbey, is now available for pre-order at Amazon. Visit Sparkle Abbey at sparkleabbey.com.

And don’t forget to grab your other favorite Sparkle Abbey titles, on sale til the 10th! 

MAGIC IN EXCESS

by Danielle Childers

I’m from Texas. It’s important for you to recognize the Lone Star State in order to understand why I tease my hair. Everything’s bigger in Texas.

Less is not more. Less is less. Especially when it comes to love. In honor of Valentine’s Day, I wanted to share some things that I have BIG love for.

Danielle’s Favorite Things:

1. Jesus. (I was raised in a very traditional, Southern home, and my mother, who is probably reading this, would die if I didn’t put Jesus first.)

2. The doctor (my husband).

3. Books. (Anything by Deborah Smith, Sarah Addison Allen . . . there’s really too many to list. Follow me on Goodreads.)

4. Cats. (I have 2 and would add more if the doctor would allow it. He puts his foot down, but I know he secretly tries to coax stray kittens into his truck to bring home.)

5. Book clubs that make recipes from the month’s reading and pair it with a movie. Example: Make pumpkin pie. Read The River Witch by Kimberly Brock, and watch Batman: The Dark Knight Rises, because a broken woman attempting to redeem herself and the crumbling spirit of a lonely girl is very much like a conflicted superhero trying to save the world. Both will have you on the edge of your seat until the alligators or the mercenaries are conquered.

These things I love are magic. Combine them with blueberry tea on a Sunday afternoon, and you’ll never go searching for a charm or enchantment again. Only, you can’t have the doctor. He’s mine. I won him fair and square.

You see, unlike my best friend Brittany, I started abandoning romance novels a few years ago. I’m sure the books miss me terribly, and there are days when I miss them, but I’m more of a magical-realism-kind-of-girl. I want a peaceful life with miraculous happenings. When I envision romance, I see myself as a librarian, which I once upon a time was, with woodland creatures scurrying from opened books and high tea manifesting itself with teacups and luxury linens any time the moon shines just right through an open window. When Prince Charming shows up, he’s a little nerdy and a whole lot of magic.

In real life, I married at 19 years of age after 2 months of dating and a 4 month engagement. Yes, 6 months from “Can I date your daughter?” which my husband asked my dad down by the casket at a funeral, to “I do,” which we said on a Sunday morning in between the altar call and the Hallalujah! 

My husband was applying for medical school after completing his degree in biochemistry, and all of our parents supported us. This was, perhaps, the magic in my realisim.

This doctor of mine is hot stuff. At the time, he was surrounded by many, many marriage-minded women. I, like any true Southern lady would, decided to teach them the difference between fishing and hunting. I put on the lowest cut dress I owned, baked his initials onto pancakes, and spread the word that I’d seen the doctor with the church harlot, and I was SURE a disease was brewing. It was a shameless attempt to send his swooning fanclub packing.

It worked.

He’s fantastic. He winks at me when I catch his eye. Is there anything more magical than being the only girl in the room? When I cry, he pats my back and asks if I need to buy a book. If that’s not love . . .

To quell the suspicions that our teeny-tiny, incredibly short courtship fueled, I feel the need to announce: I was not pregnant. I was a v-i-r-g-i-n when I married. Put your eyebrows down! When was I supposed to do “the dance with no pants?” In high school? No, thank you.

I have no problem discussing this because my husband, much like country music, prefers his women a little (barely) on the trashy side. It’s why I pay for some of the blonde in my hair, paint my nails Thrill of Brazil red, and sing “Queen of My Double-Wide Trailer,” even though we live in a perfectly suburban home with guest towels and every kitchen gadget sold at the Williams Sonoma outlet store.

I know it’s all a bit dramatic.

Another example of the magic in books spilling over into my life.

I take things to excess. It’s why, when I found out that New York Times bestselling author Deborah Smith was writing a book called The Biscuit Witch, I proceeded to bring batches of biscuits into work to find the perfect recipe. When I read The Night Circus by Erin Morgenstern, I dressed in black and white with red accents for weeks. With Sarah Addison Allen’s The Girl who Chased the Moon, I bought mismatched vintage china plates and strung fairy lights across my backyard.

I know the stories in the books aren’t real, but the magic is. I found it 6 years ago, walking down an aisle in a white dress and veil. And the magic, along with the man of my dreams, has been my constant companion ever since.

Happy reading.

Happy loving.

Happy Valentine’s Day!