Книги Molly Fitz

I'm Mags McAllister, and my cat is a ghost. Well, sort of. It's a long story. All you really need to know is that, thanks to said cat, I can now see the spirits of people long past. They bring me the mysteries surrounding their death and expect me to solve them. But you can't exactly do a quick Google search to learn more about small-town events that happened more than a century ago. Apparently you help one wayward specter and more will start appearing at the foot of your bed in the middle of...

My name is Mags McAllister, and I really need to stop being surprised when new ghosts show up at my door. Thanks to my special spectral feline Shadow, I have a largely unwanted link to the spirit realm--and word is starting to spread that I'm a good person to haunt for those who wish to button up their unfinished business. This time, my new ghost has a voice of her own, and she is definitely not afraid to use it--to make demands, complain, and even to criticize my choice of clothing. Frankly,...

If you've never been to a magical cat wedding, then you are definitely missing out! But with so many supernatural creatures gathered in one small space, there's bound to be a kerfuffle or two. Luckily, Gracie Springs, resident human, wedding planner, and familiar extraordinaire, is on the case.

With the help of her animal companions, Angie has finally located her long-lost grandmother. Charles, Paisley, and Octo-Cat accompany Angie on an impromptu road trip, but this family reunion isn't all hearts and flowers. Join the gang as past and present converge, and both bring new mysteries to solve.

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...

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, I kind of have the hots for this Charles Longfellow, III.  And even worse than that?...

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...