Proposed cover art for the Raconteur Press anthology “Moggie Noir 2.”

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Raconteur Press has just accepted my short story “The Haunted Detective’s Cat” for their upcoming anthology “Moggie Noir 2” (title and cover image subject to change).

The basic requirements are “crime noir” and “a cat.” A moggie or moggy is:

…an informal British term for a cat, especially one that does not have a pedigree or is otherwise unremarkable.

My story involves San Francisco Private Detective Marguerite “Margie” Potter set in the summer of 1948. Here’s a small sample:

My name is Marguerite Potter and I’m a private detective. You’re probably wondering what’s going to happen next. It all started out with a visit to the library, a cat named McKenzie, and of course, a murder.

“What’s eating him?” I was standing at the special orders desk at the main branch of the San Francisco Public Library. Both Myra Cowen and I were watching the red, shorthair cat pacing back and forth on the counter like an expectant father.

“Beats me,” the librarian said. “He’s been acting goofy since I got in this morning. Oh, your book came in. I’ve got it right here.” She ducked down and I could hear her rummaging through her inventory of massive tomes.

“Say, Mac. Come here and give Momma some loving.” I hiked the strap of my oversized purse higher on my shoulder and put out my palms. There are four cats in permanent residence at the library, but McKenzie’s my favorite. It’s probably because the bum blew into this place out of nowhere, took over the joint, and was willing to work for his keep. In his case, that’s taking care of the mice and rats. Mac and I have a lot in common.

Myra popped up with my book in time to see Mac snuggle up against my ample front end (yes, he’s male), purr, and then jump back like he was scalded.

“See what I mean?” She handed over my package. “Simpson’s Forensic Medicine Manual, Second Edition, 1940. It’s all yours for the next two weeks. Better be careful who sees you reading that. Your clients might think you’re too smart to hire.”

“We both know fellas want dames smart but not too smart.”

“You still working cases dressed up as a floozy?”

“Floozies, nuns, nurses, cigarette girls, you name it. They don’t call me the Mistress of Disguise for nothing.”

“I think you just like playing dress up, Margie. You should have been an actress.”

Hey, Mac.” I watched the cat hop off the counter and scamper though the main reading room.

“You’re right about how men like their ladies,” said Myra. “Except for my Miles.”

“That’s because your copper husband knows he’s just a dim bulb compared to you. Where’s that cat going now?”

“That’s Police Inspector husband to you, Margie. He’s been running back and forth between here and cataloging. When he gets back there, he makes a beeline for Dr. Middelson’s office. It’s like he knows.”

“Knows what?” I was planning on leaving right then, but business was slow and Myra was about to say something interesting.

“That Dr. Middelson is dead.”

The anthology is due out on September 20, 2024. I’ll provide more details as they come in.