This is certainly a book for cat lovers. There’s no doubt the author is a passionate cat lover. I like cats—I prefer dogs—but I do like cats, so I expected to enjoy this story. Which I did, for the most part. I was anticipating a whodunit, as the title suggests, and indeed it starts that way; when Margaret—the Mother Theresa of the cat world, rescuing waifs and strays that come her way—breaks her ankle, her niece, Savannah, comes to look after her for a short while. Savannah is herself partial to cats. However, she finds herself not just nursing her aunt, but embroiled in the mystery of the disappearance of the neighbourhood’s cats.
There are a couple of other subplots: a budding romance between Savannah and her aunt’s vet, along with Auntie’s own romance with her neighbour-cum-boyfriend. The problem is that these subplots fight the main plot for supremacy. So I’m not sure whether this was a mystery or a romance. There are some tense moments, well described, but rather spoilt by some unlikely dialogue in a post-traumatic situation.
Despite a lot of headhopping, the scales tipping in favour of telling rather than showing, and the editing—though on course—not thorough enough, it was quite a satisfying novel. I could feel the author’s enthusiasm for cats through the characters, and I did like no-nonsense Aunt Margaret: feisty, gutsy, shrewd, independent and lively.
Light and easy to read, it’s good fun.