I thought I'd treat you with the opening of FAT CAT TAKES THE CAKE, which will be out soon. (Available for pre-order now, though.)
“That’s a lot of mail,” Anna Larson said. She was taking a short
afternoon break, sitting on the squeaky stool at the work island in
the kitchen of Bar None, the dessert bar shop co-owned by her and
Charity Oliver, who was called Chase by almost everyone.
“Look!” Chase waved an envelope at Anna, her eyes bright and her
cheeks red, partly from coming inside, out of the early December cold,
but partly because of excitement.
“If you held it still I could see it.”
Chase smiled at her business partner and surrogate grandmother. “I’ll
do better than that. I’ll open it for you.”
“You know that’s a federal offense,” Julie Larson said.
“Julie.” Anna put on her stern grandparent face, which looked
incongruous with her soft gray hair and her periwinkle eyes, much more
used to smiling. “You don’t always have to be a lawyer.”