Sherlock Herms Purranormal Mysteries

1
Sherlock Herms in Farewell to Summer
2
Sherlock Herms in…Where There’s Smoke There’s Fire
3
Sherlock Herms in…Feral Informants
4
Sherlock Herms in… A Meatball Lunch with a Side Order of Clues
5
Sherlock Herms in Ghost Hunter Blues
6
Biblio-Kitty Amber Reviews Sherlock Herms: The Case of the Dancing Ghosts
7
Sherlock Herms Purranormal Mysteries One Year Anniversary!
8
A Sherlock Herms Flashback: The Case of Mrs. Shallowford’s Ghost
9
Sherlock Herms Has Gone to #Blogpaws
10
Sherlock Herms – What Lies Beyond The Doggy Door?

Sherlock Herms in Farewell to Summer

Sherlock HermsHi Pals! Well, summer hiatus is over. Thank Cod! It was a long n hoomid summertime and frankly, I’m happy to wave buh bye!

My next Sherlock Herms Purranormal Mystery adventure will debute Friday, September 22nd. In past cases I’ve been plagued by self doubt and insecurities that I can ever measure up to being a master detective like Sherlock Holmes or a hardboiled detective with grit in his blood like Sam Spade. But no more! I’m taking control of my destiny–kicking tail and taking names!

For those of you who spent way too much time at the beach and had your memories singed by the sunshine, I’ve posted the final chapter from my last adventure below. It’s a cliffhanger…without the cliff. Although it’s got a scary grave in it somewhere.

Anyway! I’m looking forward to seeing all of you next Friday. Until then…

Have a Wonderpurr Week!

Previously on Sherlock Herms in Feral Informants.

Sherlock Herms in… Where There’s Smoke There’s Fire

Mom sighed as she disconnected her phone. “This ghost hunting career of yours has turned dangerous,” she said to me. “And I’m mad at myself that I’ve been too distracted setting up this bed and breakfast to notice what’s been happening right under my roof.”

“I’m getting out of the purranormal biz. At least I hope to,” I reassured as I led her downstairs and out the front door where Dori sat on the porch steps. “What did you find?”

Dori swiped a paw across her weepy eyes. “Nacho led me to Violet’s grave. He said Dottie is buried there, too.”

Mom abruptly went back inside. I wondered if she was nervous about what I’d asked her to do and needed to pee, or was backing out of our plan to trap Dottie’s killer in a confession. But then she returned with scissors and a large shopping tote that smelled like bread. As she snipped several yellow Julia Child roses from the nearby bushes she said, “Crawl inside the tote, under the bread loaves. Patty Kiss claims to be allergic to cats. She won’t allow me inside her home if she sees you.”

I pushed aside the crusty loaves to settle at the bottom of the tote. Dori climbed in beside me. As Mom carried us to the house next door, I whispered the plan to Dori. She seemed uncharacteristically subdued. “Hoomons can be so dissy-pointing.” I couldn’t agree more.

I heard Mom whisper, “It’s show time!” and ring the doorbell. A moment passed before the door opened and I heard Patty Kiss say to Mom, “What a surprise.”

“I was on my way home from the store,” Mom told her, “but when I saw how pretty my roses were, I cut a few for your home.”

“Thank you,” Patty said. “My grandmother planted those bushes years ago. But she never shared them with me.”

“Cuz yoo is a bad lady,” Dori whispered inside the tote, and I told her to Shhh. Read More

Sherlock Herms in…Where There’s Smoke There’s Fire

Previously on Sherlock Herms in Feral Informants.

Mom sighed as she disconnected her phone. “This ghost hunting career of yours has turned dangerous,” she said to me. “And I’m mad at myself that I’ve been too distracted setting up this bed and breakfast to notice what’s been happening right under my roof.”

“I’m getting out of the purranormal biz. At least I hope to,” I reassured as I led her downstairs and out the front door where Dori sat on the porch steps. “What did you find?”

Dori swiped a paw across her weepy eyes. “Nacho led me to Violet’s grave. He said Dottie is buried there, too.”

Mom abruptly went back inside. I wondered if she was nervous about what I’d asked her to do and needed to pee, or was backing out of our plan to trap Dottie’s killer in a confession. But then she returned with scissors and a large shopping tote that smelled like bread. As she snipped several yellow Julia Child roses from the nearby bushes she said, “Crawl inside the tote, under the bread loaves. Patty Kiss claims to be allergic to cats. She won’t allow me inside her home if she sees you.”

I pushed aside the crusty loaves to settle at the bottom of the tote. Dori climbed in beside me. As Mom carried us to the house next door, I whispered the plan to Dori. She seemed uncharacteristically subdued. “Hoomons can be so dissy-pointing.” I couldn’t agree more.

I heard Mom whisper, “It’s show time!” and ring the doorbell. A moment passed before the door opened and I heard Patty Kiss say to Mom, “What a surprise.”

“I was on my way home from the store,” Mom told her, “but when I saw how pretty my roses were, I cut a few for your home.”

“Thank you,” Patty said. “My grandmother planted those bushes years ago. But she never shared them with me.”

“Cuz yoo is a bad lady,” Dori whispered inside the tote, and I told her to Shhh. Read More

Sherlock Herms in…Feral Informants

Previous episode: Sherlock Herms in…A Meatball Lunch with a Side Order of Clues.

As I zoomed for the cat colony behind my house, my whiskers sizzled with suspicion. I’d had my A-Ha moment when our nonagenarian neighbor, Fjarskarfinn Skredskarvig—aka Finn—mentioned Patty Kiss may have been upset when her grandmother, Violet, left her multi-million dollar estate to Dottie.

Upset enough to murder her sister? Maybe not, but it was a good clue.

I had plans to chat with Patty Kiss, who was the realtor who sold us our home, but I needed more than a meatball-making old lady’s suggestion that she had motive. Finn said Dottie would never leave town with a strange man. She loved her cats too much, especially the homeless kitties in the colony. Yet that’s was what Patty Kiss told everyone. Dottie ran off with a strange boyfriend.

Amazing how one little suggestion had started to fill in the missing pieces to the puzzle of how Dottie got dead.

Dottie’s colony lived in the woodland park behind our home. I didn’t have to search long to find them. Dottie had built shelters among the thick brush by the pond. At a glance I saw ten cats, but my strong sense of smell told me there were more. My heart hurt for them, not having a home. No longer having Dottie to care for them. Did they hunt? Or did kind hoomons bring them noms and fresh water? Read More

Sherlock Herms in… A Meatball Lunch with a Side Order of Clues

Previous episode:  Sherlock Herms in Ghost Hunter Blues.

Sprawled on a bench across the road from our house in the town of Welcome Home, I absently watched a dozen piping plovers skip along the sandy beach. There was no cool breeze to ruffle my floofy fur as summer had settled like a steamy wet blanket over the Mitten State. Plus the air stank of dead fish (and not in a yummy way.)

I felt depressed. Splintered into pieces. Everyone was mad at me.

Dottie the ghost girl had disappeared while I was having fun at Blogpaws, a pet bloggers conference where I go every year to hang out with my fans. It wasn’t my fault. I’d run out of time and couldn’t help her find the Light before we left town. But Dori blamed me, and so did Charley and the others.

I didn’t care. Let them be mad. It was high time I took control of my life instead of letting Dori and Charley and my WAD team lead me around by the choke chain.

I’m not selfish. I appreciate that sometimes dead hoomons need help. But why me? Others were available to help, like James Van Praagh, John Edward, and the new kid, Tyler Henry—the Hollywood Medium. They talked to dead hoomons all the time. In fact, the kid had an unnaturally cheerful way of doing it. The right attitude!

I wanted to be a detective. Search for clues. Solve mysteries—and not about why a hoomon got dead. That stuff depressed the dickens outta me. I was on the eighth of my nine lives. Time was running out. I wanted to spend my remaining life doing happy stuff.

So I told Charley and my WAD team that I was closing the Wonderpurr Detective Agency. Closing it right after I found out why Dottie the ghost girl got dead, and maybe helped her find the Light. I had to help her. Dori said it was the right thing to do, and I agreed.

I had a notebook open beside me filled with scribbles. Tyler Henry scribbled when he channeled what dead hoomons wanted to tell him. So far all I had was squiggles and doodles, and car-paw tunnel from holding my purple crayon too tight.

As I set my notebook aside, I heard mew-sic behind me. I turned to see Dori strumming a pink toy guitar. Read More

Sherlock Herms in Ghost Hunter Blues

“Dori! Candy! Frank! Opie! Hey guys, where are you? I brung ya presents.”

Dragging one of the KATRIS modular cat tree pieces through the front door, I was disappointed no one was there to welcome me home from Blogpaws. My friend Kate Benjamin had given me the cool cat tree to share with my fur sibs, and I had stuffed mousies and Meowijuana catnip to pass out. But where was everyone?

Leaving the heavy KATRIS piece in the hall, I checked the kitchen, the litter box room and the other rooms downstairs before zooming upstairs. I’d been gone a week. Didn’t they miss me? Weren’t they excited to welcome me home?

As I arrived on the third floor I heard the familiar clicking sound of my brothers playing on top of the chase-ball-with-sticks table, while my sisters lounged on the comfy chairs and couches. “Hey everyone, I’m home!”

I expected a rousing cheer, but all I got was a few stink-eyes while the others totally ignored me. What the Friskies! Read More

Biblio-Kitty Amber Reviews Sherlock Herms: The Case of the Dancing Ghosts

Hi Pals! What a surprise I got today when I learned Amber the Biblio-Kitty who does book reviews over on Bionic Basil’s Blog reviewed my book, Sherlock Herms Purranormal Mysteries: The Case of the Dancing Ghosts.

Amber and her fur sibs must really behave at their house. My mom would never trust the Wonderpurr Gang around her books…especially Opie.

SHE LIKE’S ME! SHE REALLY REALLY LIKES ME!

I think I’m in love. Honestly, isn’t Amber a beauty?

Click the cover of my book to read her review.

 

 

Sherlock Herms Purranormal Mysteries One Year Anniversary!

Hi Furends! Exactly one year ago today Sherlock Herms Purranormal Mysteries made it’s debut right here on Wonderpurr.com.

Choosing May 22nd wasn’t by chance. Did you know today is also International Sherlock Holmes Day? And that day was chosen because it’s the birthday of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, the creator of the most wonderpurr detective on earth…except for Sam Spade, but this isn’t Sam Spade Day.

Anyway, I want to thank all of you who have been with us from the start, and also all of you who are just discovering Sherlock Herms. And if you need to catch up reading our mysteries, we have all the links available in our Case Files.

Thanks again for stopping by. Happy Sherlock Herms… I mean, Sherlock Holmes Day!

A Sherlock Herms Flashback: The Case of Mrs. Shallowford’s Ghost

Previously on Sherlock Herms – The Case of Mrs. Shallowford’s Ghost Mrs Shallowford's Ghost

After watching Dori make her singing debut at The Desert Galaxy nightclub, Herman wakes up to realize he’s had a bad dream. Not that Dori’s singing was terrible, but that he was inside the almost famous detective Max Shallowford’s body, and the mobster Sammy ‘The Squid’ Calamari was expecting him to shoot another mobster.

Upon waking, Herman finds himself back in his attic office seventy years in the past. And seated across from him is Charley Feeble, a ghost. Charley tells him he is the real Max Shallowford, but has a pathological form of shyness. Because he feared meeting his clients in person, he hired an out of work actor from Ecum Secum, Nova Scotia to pretend to be Max Shallowford.

The actor was really good. Too good. He fooled everyone, including Charley, by taking over and getting involved with the mob. That landed him in trouble and he ended up disappearing, along with the mobster’s money and his girlfriend. The Squid was more upset about the money than the girlfriend.

The actor also married a showgirl by the name of Vivian who was responsible for scaring Charley to death. He tells Herman, “I called you, Sherlock Herms, to retrieve the missing jewelry so Vivian will stop screaming. She still frightens me, even though I’m dead. However, I now realize that if I can get her to step outside of my house, I may have a way to prevent her from reentering. That’s why I needed you, Herman. I need you to help me get rid of Vivian Shallowford.”

And now…The Conclusion.

SHERLOCK HERMS DIVIDER

Read More

Sherlock Herms Has Gone to #Blogpaws

“Digital EMF Meter… Check! 35mm camera… Check! Digital thermometer and Spirit Box… Check! Litter box, extra litter and pooper scooper… Check!”

“Hwermie! What are yoo doing?”

I glanced up from packing my suitcase to see my little sister Dori looking at me with huge worried eyes. “I’m leaving for Blogpaws next week. There’s a lot to do before we head out.”

She looked ready to cry. “But Hwermie! Dottie is weady to go through the doggy door portal. She needs to know she’s dead. Yoo can’t just zoom off to Blogpaws and leave her there. What if she fweaks out?”

I sighed. “Look, I meant to help her figure out she’s dead before I left for Blogpaws. But then Mom got a lecture gig at some writer’s conference and also a gig with a radio talk show over in Spain of all places. I kinda need her assistance to help Dottie with her issues. It’s not my fault we ran out of time. I was here at home doing my part as a purranormal investigator. If you have to be upset with anyone, be upset with Mom.”

Dori wrung her tabby tail with nervous paws. “Should I spray something?”

“NO! I… Look, honey. I’m sorry we can’t help Dottie this week. Or even next week… I–”

“Two whole weeks! That’s a lifetime in cat years!”

*pulls out pocket calendar* Actually, I can’t schedule Dottie’s problem until June 9th.”

I saw Dori stagger. “I think I’m gonna pass out,” she moaned, making me run to ease her to the floor. “We worked so hawd to get weaders to like us. Now they’re all gonna go away and never come back.”

“No, they won’t abandon us. They’ll be back.”

Dori began to sob. “Our readers might have Atten-Shun Deffy-Sit Dis-Odor. We need to post every week so they don’t fo’get us, Hwermie!” She flexed her claws. “If only I was born with fingers so I could type instead of being born with an amazingly beautiful face. Oh! The twials and twibulations of being born gorjus!” Read More

Sherlock Herms – What Lies Beyond The Doggy Door?

Previously on Sherlock Herms in Down the Rabbit Hole

I asked the pretty ghost who didn’t realize she was dead, “Would you be interested in traveling to Urbana, Ohio to see the route Abraham Lincoln’s funeral train took in 1865?”

Dottie’s blue eyes sparkled. “My goodness! That sounds like fun. How many days should I pack for?”

“No need for luggage. We’ll be gone just the one day.” My plan was to transport Dottie into the past to witness Abraham Lincoln’s actual funeral.

“But how are you going to explain it to her?” my tabby brother Jack asked later when I mentioned my plans to help Dottie realize she was no longer breathing.

“See, that’s the idea. I don’t explain it. I let her figure it out for herself. How is it possible for her to be in the past when she was born 108 years after the dood died?” Read More

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