Brando The Cat: From A Fistful Of Collars (Sneak Peek)
We drove deeper into the desert, Bernie at the wheel, Thad riding shotgun with Brando on his lap, me still in back. After not too long, Bernie turned off the blacktop and followed a dirt track up toward some big red rocks, a track that petered out before we got there. Bernie stopped the car.
“What’s going on?” Thad said.
“Want to see something interesting?” Bernie said.
“Like what?” Thad checked his watch.
“Let’s make it a surprise.”
“I hate surprises.”
Bernie smiled, one of those smiles of his that’s just for himself—and me, of course, goes without saying—and we all piled out of the car, me hitting the ground first. We walked up toward the red rocks, me in the lead, then Bernie, Thad, and Brando, actually moving under his own power. Once—this was back on our trip to San Diego—Bernie said that the fog came in on little cat feet, a remark that I’d never been able to forget no matter how hard I’d tried, and that was how Brando moved along, like he was made of cloud, weighing nothing, although in fact he looked pudgy to me.
– From A Fistful of Collars, coming Tuesday from Atria Books.
Welcome new friends: Sasha, Hunter.
Tomorrow at 3PM – Spencer Quinn talks and signs the first available copies of A Fistful of Collars in the whole universe (and all the other universes if it turns out they exist) at Titcomb’s Bookshop in Sandwich, Mass.
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