play

NEW SERIES!

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.

After that small matter was settled, he informed me that I must uphold his secret or risk spending the rest of my life in some magical prison. I agreed, not knowing it would turn into a full-time job of covering his tracks and fibbing our way out of some pretty tight spots.

When my boss at the local coffee shop turns up dead as a dormouse, things go from challenging to practically impossible… especially since all my coworkers seem to think I’m to blame.

Here’s hoping my witchy cat can charm our way out of this one, because right now it looks like I’m cursed if I do and charged with murder if I don’t. Yikes!

I was just your normal twenty-something 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.

His full name is Octavius Maxwell Ricardo Edmund Frederick Fulton, but since that’s way too long for anyone to remember, 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.

Well, now it looks like I no longer have a choice, apparently my life calling is to serve as Blueberry Bay’s first ever pet whisperer P.I while maintaining my façade as a paralegal at the offices of Fulton, Thompson & Associates. 

I just have one question: How did Dr. Doolittle make this gig look so easy?

Join Molly's List

Sign up and get a special digital prize pack for joining, including an exclusive story, fun quiz, and lots of cat pictures!

NEW FROM PET WHISPERER P.I.

Just as I was beginning to think we’d never find the last missing member of our long-lost family, a seagull named Bravo shows up with both a promise and a threat.

He claims he’s been watching me for a long time—even before I gained my strange ability to talk to animals. He also says that if I help settle a dispute between warring flocks, then he’ll personally take me to see the one person I’ve been all but dying to meet. If I refuse to help, however, he’ll send an army of mercenary woodpeckers to destroy my house. Yikes!

Unfortunately, I’ve already promised Octo-Cat that I’ll take him on a cross-country trip to visit his girlfriend out in Colorado. With Nan and I on the road, it falls to Charles and Pringle to investigate in our absence. 

Will they be able to solve the case according to the flock’s satisfaction? What shocking secrets has Nan been keeping from me now? And will I be able to survive more than 70 hours in the car with my complaining kitty? 

I was just your normal twenty-something 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.

His full name is Octavius Maxwell Ricardo Edmund Frederick Fulton, but since that’s way too long for anyone to remember, 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.

Well, now it looks like I no longer have a choice, apparently my life calling is to serve as Blueberry Bay’s first ever pet whisperer P.I while maintaining my façade as a paralegal at the offices of Fulton, Thompson & Associates. 

I just have one question: How did Dr. Doolittle make this gig look so easy?

Meet Molly Fitz

While USA Today bestselling author Molly Fitz can't technically talk to animals, she and her doggie best friend, Sky Princess, have deep and very animated conversations as they navigate their days. Add to that, five more dogs, a snarky feline, comedian husband, and diva daughter, and you can pretty much imagine how life looks at the Casa de Fitz.

Molly lives in a house on a high hill in the Michigan woods and occasionally ventures out for good food, great coffee, or to meet new animal friends. 

NEW RELEASE!

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.

Now my boss, a black cat named Mr. Fluffikins, has ordered me to go undercover as a phony psychic and find out what’s happening to the missing feline agents.

Last week I didn’t even know magic existed; this week it’s up to me to help save it.

Yup, all in a day’s work for this part-time psychic.

I was just your normal twenty-something 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.

His full name is Octavius Maxwell Ricardo Edmund Frederick Fulton, but since that’s way too long for anyone to remember, 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.

Well, now it looks like I no longer have a choice, apparently my life calling is to serve as Blueberry Bay’s first ever pet whisperer P.I while maintaining my façade as a paralegal at the offices of Fulton, Thompson & Associates. 

I just have one question: How did Dr. Doolittle make this gig look so easy?