Franklin here, like the president, but you can call me Frank. I’m a handsome chocolate point Siamese and I rule the roost and all the ditzy roosters and chickens around here. And believe me, they need all the help they can get. Obviously, I’m not talking about feathered fowl, I’m talking about my human book club members. This book club is heavy on enthusiasm, but light on aptitude. Except for Dr. Dr. Atticus Papadopoulos, he has enough brilliance to bore you to tears. 

First thing in the morning I like my bowl of coffee, heavy on the creamer – the flavored type preferred. Of course, being a cat lacking opposable thumbs I must rely on one of the book club folks to prepare it for me. I often get lectured about how it’s not good for me (while they are sipping their own steaming cup. Hypocritical, if you ask me.). Blah, blah, blah. I barely listen anymore. I just remind them that I’m not your ordinary feline and to get busy with the pouring already.

Once I’m had my cup o’ java, my brain is awake enough to keep up with any shenanigans the book club throws my way. On book club days that’s usually a whole lotta shenanigans. If we’re inside a mystery book – oh? Didn’t I tell you? It’s a magical mystery book club and we are absorbed into a cozy mystery and have to ferret out the suspects, dig through the red herrings, and find out who killed the guy. Sometimes it’s a gal, too. Never a cat though, thank goodness for that cozy mystery rule. I would definitely not be on board for that kind of story.

Anyhow. When we’re inside a book, we must get to know our surroundings, meet the people, figure out the motive and opportunity, and all that detective-y kind of stuff. I’m talented in the skulking around and spying on people sort of thing, so that’s often my role. 

Once I spy and skulk, I return to the book club to fill them in on what I’ve seen. We usually sit around the murder board and pick apart the facts. Then we plan the next day’s recognizance. And we eat. A lot. This group loves their meals and snacks, and they take it very seriously. Oy, the potlucks! Luckily, someone always brings fish. So, we eat, and we talk, and we plan. Wash, dry, and repeat until we figure out who-done-it and reach The End of the book. Then we head back home to catch our breath and chill out at our marvelous Snapdragon Inn set in the mountains of Colorado – the real Colorado – until we get to jump into another book.