From Sofa to Sleuth: How a Clingy Himalayan Inspired a Mystery Series

She gets concerned if you sleep in.

Have you ever been asked, or asked of others: “If you could have one superpower, what would it be?” 
Would it be flight or invisibility, super speed or walking through walls? All of these would be interesting to experience, and I’d be open to a few hours with any of the above superhuman abilities.

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​But when I reflect on the possibility of a longer-term superpower, I would choose something else entirely. For me, the most desired ability is cross-species communication. Not just mind reading, but honest to goodness two-way communication.

What animal lover wouldn’t wish for an animated chit chat with their beloved pooch? Or how about discovering if the visiting songbirds prefer single seed or mixed varieties in the feeder? Rhetorical questions, my friends.

 For me, it’s the mysteries in our Himalayan cat’s brain that I’d like to unlock. Being half Siamese, she’s quite the chatty Cathy. Or Princess, in her case. Abandoned by her previous owner, we’re her foster-fail family. Numerous conversations around the dinner table have been had, trying to unpack her past.

She has certain idiosyncrasies I have not encountered with previous cats. She’s insanely affectionate. But if you try to hold her, she breaks out her best impression of a freedom fighter. She’s desperate for outside time. But every little sound in the great outdoors compels her to blindly flee. The crackle of a dried leaf underfoot? Flee. A robin rustling in the branches overhead? Flee. 

When she begins meowing expressively, we ask her, “What are you saying?!” A question to which she never responds. Quelle surprise, indeed. During one particularly vocal session, I felt she was telling me quite the story. A story that I, tragically, could not decipher.
    
I was already in the process of brainstorming a new cozy mystery series. I asked myself, “What if the main character also inherited a talking cat?” That was the day Cinnamon, the sometimes-talking cat, was born.
    
Poetic license took over, as I imagined a snarky feline who focused on his own needs. (Sorry, Princess. Your literary persona is male and more opinionated.) When I close my eyes and imagine Cinnamon, a sign hanging in our house comes to mind:

    If cats could text you back…they wouldn’t

The level of feline superiority exuded by the fictional Cinnamon is reinforced by the fact that he is essentially a silent witness to the mysteries unfolding within the pages. He may be privy to details that could help solve the mystery. Will he share it with those who need to know? Debatable. Possibly, but not willingly. Unless there are treats involved. 
    
The Catmint Chronicles takes place in the fictional village of Cresswell-on-Wyrd, or COW as Rowan and the younger residents refer to it. New York native Rowan Thorne inherits Black Thumb Betty’s Cafe and Herb Shop. In the process, she discovers she had a long-lost Aunt Betty who died suddenly and left the shop to her. It’s a classic cozy mystery trope that sets the scene for the unfolding drama.
    
One of the things I love about writing cozy mysteries is the ability to keep the tone low-stakes. I have opted to share feel-good stories that engage readers without the stress of losing a potentially beloved character. It wasn’t a marketing decision that drove me to write The Catmint Chronicles as a no-murder mystery series. It’s a reflection of the world I want my readers to spend time in. When the outside world feels uncertain, COW is a safe haven for readers.
    
For cross-species communication to truly be a superpower, it can’t be available to everyone. In the case of Cinnamon’s speaking ability, specialized herbal blends unlock his tongue. This feature adds another level of mystery, as Rowan must decipher the particular blends that work. Throughout the series, certain herbs lose their potency or, worse, cause bizarre side effects. In Cinnamon and the Cursed Catmint, an inadvertent ingestion causes the feisty feline to belt out show tunes. Badly.
    
Experience with our own little Princess inspired certain scenes in the books. On more than one occasion, an annoyed meow and a paw to the face have woken me up. Princess has learned to appreciate the safety of her harness and leash on outdoor walks. As Cinnamon explains to Rowan, Aunt Betty was apt to wander off without him. He much preferred being tethered to a human, so he wasn’t locked out from his indoor creature comforts. I often find myself observing Princess, plotting how I can weave her feline traits into a scene I’m drafting.
    
With Book Three, Cinnamon and the Clove Conspiracy, readers meet Rowan’s father, Reg Thorne. He arrives on their doorstep with his sibling pugs, Pudding and Pickles. The idea of yet another variation of cross-species communication was too delicious to ignore. The pugs accidentally consume Cinnamon’s speaking blend, causing them to blurt out words in a combination of English and French.
    
And, of course, the pugs bow to their feline overlord, because aren’t pugs just the canine equivalent of Himalayans? You know the drill, dear reader. Yes, it is in fact another rhetorical question.
    
One of the biggest challenges, and joys, of writing The Catmint Chronicles was capturing the unique dialogue between a pet and their owner. Princess takes clinginess to an entirely new level. But that didn’t feel like the right dynamic for Cinnamon and Rowan. I wanted Rowan to work for acceptance from the cat. He could tell her what he knows, but first he wanted to know she was worthy of owning Black Thumb Betty’s. The herbal blend conundrums and earning a talking cat’s respect added additional layers that Rowan—and the readers—had to unpack.
    
My writing journey began in non-fiction. First, it was blog posts to promote my now-defunct fitness business. I transitioned to author through a series of books focused on fitness self-help and seniors’ fall prevention. While I began writing with a goal of informing readers, now I’m focused on entertaining them. For the past year, my feet have been planted firmly in the fictional world. 
    
Interestingly, I recently read that many people learn more from fiction than comparable non-fiction. You may be asking yourself: did I intend to teach people with The Catmint Chronicles? The answer is no. There are no covert—or even overt—lessons to be learned from Cinnamon and Rowan’s adventures. But if I were to offer one tip to readers, it would be this: Pay attention to your pet. You just might learn a thing or two.

Start the series today: Cinnamon and the Clue in the Cardamom

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Author's note: This post was originally published by Mystery Center, The Strand Magazine's online blog.