NEW RELEASE!

Something’s up with the Paranormal Temp Agency, and I’m going to find out what that is. 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 that come with it.

The real kicker? If we don’t solve this one soon, I could be stuck as an immortal monster forever…

But that’s just how it goes when you’re a part-time vampire.

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?

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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, six more dogs, two snarky felines, 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 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?