A Passion for Purses and . . . . Kat Out of the Bag, . . . . . . . . . In Purse-Suit Mysteries: Spilling the news

Today is Release Day

It's out of the bag

Praise from Laura Childs (author Tea Shop mysteries)

"A little bit cozy, a little bit thriller. Wendy Kendall knows how to develop great characters and an exciting plot, then wallop it home."

Hey Katherine, I haven't seen our author so excited in awhile.

You're right MJ. I guess I'm pretty excited myself. It's not every day that the adventures and intrigue of Bayside Washington are released to the public on the pages of Kat Out of the Bag available online on Amazon

Remember how it all started?

Oh for Heaven's sake MJ, can we skip that, not my best moment. I always argued with Wendy Kendall that chapter one should have started later.

No way, that's the beginning of it all . . . .

Katherine Watson slumped in a heap, littering the side of the road, all branding for her prestigious purse and fashion company, K. Watson Designs International abandoned. She struggled to sit up in her muddied Kevan Hall designer gown, the strategically seductive slit up the left leg of her gown was now in tatters, and a hole was growing under her left arm. Her once upswept, auburn hair hung flat like the dense suede fringe on a poorly made Coach knock off.

A teenager walked by her, talking on his cell phone, "I'm not kidding. The mayor's dead. She was hanged."

And Katherine, when was it that you met Jason Holmes, he was on duty the night of the murder with his K-9 Hobbs.

I remember. I was lost in my own thoughts about Brenda, the mayor, at the time . . .

It was as if she'd killed Brenda herself. Bright flashing lights on top of yet another police car broke through her accusation. This car was speeding right toward Katherine on the curb. She barely had time to roll out of the way. After a stunned self-affirmation she was still alive, her head hung heavy as she moved to a sitting position again. The siren stopped as a loud, vicious barking from inside the car started. Katherine stared at a huge German shepherd jumping against the car's back window. A car door slammed.

A man kneeled next to her in the mud, leaning close. "Are you all right Miss? Are you okay? Do you think you can move?"

Katherine's first thought was that's a big gun, as she stared ahead at the sidearm in the holster hanging from his belt.

You know Katherine, that Jason, he's got some issues.

MJ I'm telling you, at times he can be so aggravating, him and his dog Hobbs.

Right Kat, not at all like you and your cat Purrada . . . .

Katherine had been trudging around in her gown all night, through the heart break, the push by Russ, the speeding police car, those deep blue eyes. Jason. Then she remembered his lecture and that look in those eyes as he'd told her he'd keep the note as evidence. She slammed her broken clutch down hard on her desk disrupting the sleeping Purrada, who meowed in a loud complaint. The shiny black haired, sleek pet reclined on a fluffy cushion on the window seat next to the desk. Now that Purrada was startled and on the alert, Katherine could see the white fur patches scattered on her nose, chin, and along the front of her neck. The cat then feigned nonchalance and casually began licking the top of her front paw.

MJ that was the calm before the storm. I'll never forget my fear later that night on the phone with 911 . . . .

"There's an officer nearby. We'll alert him. Hold the line."

Katherine was worried by the operator's monotone. Did she understand the urgency? Katherine watched in disbelief as the shadow figure moved toward the she attached to the waterwheel. Too late, she thought to get a picture after the person disappeared inside the shed.

"Oh no," Katherine muttered. She spoke into the phone, "Hurry. I think it's the killer, maybe looking for something left behind? Hello?" Had the operator hung up?

"Yes, the officer is on the way. Please stay on the line." The operator's voice now sounded bored.

A sharp ray of light from inside the shed cut through the darkness. The light jumped around. Sweat collected on Katherine's upper lip as she imagined the killer looking through her things for something, maybe critical evidence. Dear gave way to irritation at the invasion. Irritation gave way to anger. Someone had to stop that killer from removing whatever incriminating thing was so critical it had driven a return to the scene of the crime. Katherine wanted to scream. Where were the police? Maybe MJ was right about them. She pressed against the French doors. The light in the shed went out. Her breath caught in her throat. The silhouette walked out of the shed toward the alley leading to the maze that burrowed throughout Bayside and beyond.

Katherine spoke gruffly and fast, "Hello. Where's your officer? The suspect is getting away."

"Ma'am, please stay calm and hang on the line. They're on the way."

Katherine unlocked the door to the yard and whispered to the 911 operator, "I'm in pursuit."

Well Katherine, at least you had my daily meditations to guide you.

Yes MJ, as always they were vague but irritating.

Katherine, did you mean wise and insightful? What about the day, when you started your suspect board with your grandmother and me - I rose to the occasion . . . .

MJ paused as if to gather herself. She stood up, arms reaching forward with her thumbs and forefingers touching. She took a deep breath. Katherine and her grandmother exchanged patient glances, and Pam leaned back in her chair again. There was only the sound of the kettle heating up and the eggs scrambling. In her own good time MJ announced, "The only normal people are the ones that you don't know very well."

Always so helpful, or something MJ. And don't get me started on your antics at the Bayside City Council meeting.

Oh yeah, protest is my thing. That's my kind of scene, man

MJ, you did make a scene that night. Good thing too, so I could sneak away on my first ever stake out. I learned a few things that night.

Oh man, that's when things really got crazy.