Of Mice and Murder - SIGNED hardcover luxe edition

“How does it look?” Morrie yelled from his precarious position atop the wooden ladder, as he held the painting of a rampaging Godzilla cat terrorising a town filled with fleeing mice against the dark panelled wall above the staircase.

“Like the entrails of one of Grimalkin’s eviscerated mice,” Heathcliff growled.

“Meow,” Grimalkin echoed from her perch on Heathcliff’s shoulder.

“Hey,” Quoth pouted. He sat on the bottom step, his black hair hung over his face, draping him in shadows. “I worked hard on that painting.”

“Ignore Heathcliff, he’s no bloody help.” Morrie steadied himself against the wall as the ladder wobbled. “Mina, your thoughts?”

“I think that ladder doesn’t look structurally sound.”

Morrie gritted his teeth as his arm muscles strained fromholding out the canvas. “I’d like to remind you that I’m risking my beautiful neck up here for your genius plan. We don’t have to hang Quoth’s paintings all over the shop—”

“Fine, fine. Move it over two inches so it's centered on the panel.” Morrie leaned out, his arms stretching the last inch. I nodded and he reached for his hammer and—

Something warm streaked across my boots. A tiny white shape darted up the staircase and along the frame of the ladder. A twitching nose sniffed the air as the mouse surveyed its next move.

“Yeooow!” Heathcliff moaned as Grimalkin’s claws dug into his shoulder. She launched herself across the room, flying up the staircase and landing on the bottom rung of the ladder just as the mouse darted up Morrie’s trouser leg.

“Help, it’s in my trousers!” Morrie lurched forward, hopping from foot to foot as he swung the painting at his leg. The ladder wobbled across the step and lurched toward the edge of the staircase.

“Morrie, watch out!” I yelled. Morrie leapt off the top of the ladder just as the leg went over the edge of the step and the whole thing crashed down the stairs. The painting flew from his hand and sailed through the air.

Feathers flew in all directions as Quoth transformed into his raven. He darted out of the way just as the ladder slid over the bottom step. I sucked in my breath.

Quoth soared overhead and captured the frame between his teeth just before it hit the ground. He flapped his wings and set it down against the wall.

The mouse streaked past him. Grimalkin bounced back down the stairs and bounded after it. Quoth stuck out a talon to capture the critter, but the mouse slipped through his grip and disappeared under a shelf.

Grimalkin’s front paws slid on the floorboards, and she howled as she skidded into Quoth, sending the pair of them tumbling across the room in a furious ball of fur and feathers.

I raced up the staircase, my heart pounding as I wrapped my arms around Morrie, who was still frantically beating at his trouser leg.

“Get it out, get it out, get it out!” he howled.

“It’s gone.” I grabbed him under the arms and hauled him to his feet, surprised to feel wet patches under his arms. Is James Moriarty, criminal mastermind and eminent mathematics professor, afraid of a tiny mouse?

It appeared so. Morrie buried his face in my neck. “It had little scratchy legs,” he whispered into my hair.

“Don’t be so dramatic. Where’d it go?” Heathcliff wrenched Grimalkin and Quoth apart.

“Into the stacks. I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about. It’s just a wee mouse.” I wiped a strand of hair out of Morrie’s face. His lower lip quivered, and it was totally adorable. “Judging by the row of tiny trophies along the perch over the door, Quoth and Grimalkin will make short work of it sooner or later.”

“That was no mere mouse,” Heathcliff growled. “He is the Grey Fury, the Mouse of the Baskervilles, the Demon Mouse of Butcher Street.”

“Now who’s being dramatic?”

“Didn’t you read the paper?” Morrie slumped onto the front step, folding his hands over his long legs. “This little fellow has been doing the rounds of all the shops in town, chewing his way through power cords and ductwork, terrifying customers, creating health code violations. It looks like the blighter has decided to take up residence in our shop. I don’t like this. I don’t deal well with vermin.”

“A mouse made headlines in the Argleton Gazette?” Four years in New York City had made me forget the insanity that was village life.

“Not just the headlines. Front page.” Morrie winced as he pulled himself to his feet and dusted off his trousers. “These trousers are contaminated now. I’ll have to throw them away and they cost £400.”

“You have £400 to spend on trousers?” I don’t think I’d ever seen £400 in my life.

“Forget his bloody trousers. Look what you’ve done to my shop!” Heathcliff folded his arms and glared at the ladder, which had smashed a wooden panel and left a long scratch along the balustrade.

“It wasn’t me,” Morrie protested. “It was the mouse!”

“Meeeoooow!” howled Grimalkin.

My temples throbbed. Just another day in Nevermore Bookshop.

Nevermore Bookshop Mysteries
Book 1 - A Dead and Stormy Night
Book 2 - Of Mice and Murder
Book 3 - Pride and Premeditation
Book 4 - Memoirs of a Garroter
Book 5 - Prose and Cons
Book 6 - A Novel Way to Die
Book 7 - Much Ado About Murder
Book 8 - Crime and Publishing
Book 9 - Plot and Bothered
Novella - How Heathcliff Stole Christmas