BRAINPAN LEAKAGE

… Ben had turned up the volume slightly on the television when the Saturday night movie had been interrupted for a breaking news update. Brandee Street, her cameraman, and the pilot had been arrested all right—but not before getting the morbid video into the station’s hands. Even through the overblown colors of the malfunctioning set, you could easily make out Ben, Constance and me on the balcony of the apartment. We had fought a desperate fight, but in the end the sheet had fluttered enough to give at least a partial view of the woman’s nude remains.

We all stared silently at the picture as the talking heads behind the anchor desk identified us each in succession. It was all we could do to stifle disgusted sighs as they proceeded to tag us with a sensationalized nickname. A moniker that would unfortunately not only stick for some time to come but was also picked up immediately by every other station and newspaper in the bi-state area. We had been christened “The Ghoul Squad.” …

Some of you may recognize the above paragraphs as having been excerpted from Never Burn A Witch, the second novel in my Rowan Gant Investigations series. And, if you follow me on Facebook or Twitter it’s a fairly good bet you’ve already heard about the “official” RGI GHOUL SQUAD. But then, maybe you haven’t, so that’s why I am going to flap my metaphorical gums about it here.

One of my fans, Walter Hardin Jr. to be exact – as I definitely want to give credit where credit is due – mentioned to me that I really needed a “Street Team” to free me up from some of the time-sucking promotional activities that come with the whole “being an author” profession. I thought I knew what a “Street Team” was, but soon discovered that there are two types – professional and fan-based. It was then I remembered something from my youth – The KISS Army. I was never a member myself, what with Styx being my ear candy of choice, but believe me I went to school with many of the KA inductees.

So, I did a bit of research. Then I researched some more. Then I got together with my publicist (Wendy) and my pa/publicist (Scott). They both gave me some great input. Then I ran it past a couple of friends, one of whom had done time in the music biz – they all had great input too. Some ideas were weeded out, others were solidified. The ones we liked most got a quick swipe of the photo fixative lacquer – sorry… had an old 1960’s Polaroid moment there… Anywho, it seemed like in the matter of just a few days I went from, “Street Team? What’s that?” to “YEEHAAAAA! Street Team!”

Better yet, a whole bunch of folks out there in Interwebz land did too…

And so, the RGI GHOUL SQUAD was officially born.

Complete with its very own website and everything, the “Squad” was set to go live January 1, 2010. But, that was before I committed premature post-aculation. By this I mean, while starting to write the posts that would fill the news section of the RGI GHOUL SQUAD website I neglected to turn off the ping.fm updater. As soon as I let loose with that first post it was all over Facebook, Twitter, and Myspace – not to mention a few other social networking venues.

Email began to pour in – “The join link doesn’t work!”, “There’s a password on xyz link so I can’t get to it!”, “I want to join right now!”… and so on. You get the picture.

Suddenly, I was busier than a cat covering up sh*t with all my email answering to explain the situation. But, I just couldn’t keep up. Don’t get me wrong, I was – and am – ecstatic that so many folks expressed an interest in the “Squad”. I simply wasn’t prepared to handle my screwup.

So, instead of fighting a losing battle I focused my energies and resources on making things happen a little quicker. Therefore, the RGI GHOUL SQUAD officially went “live” 18 days early – this past Sunday, December 13, 2009 to be exact. Hmmmm, 13… Seems kind of fitting in a lot of ways.

If you think you might be interested in checking out the “Squad,” its benefits – and responsibilities – then maybe even joining up, you can find the official website at www.rowangant.com.

Just be aware – I am NOT going to wear all that facepaint, breathe fire, spit fake blood, or even sing Rock And Roll All Nite…

Well… Okay… Maybe I’ll sing, but only after a few beers.

More to come…

Murv

It was the worst of times…

Those of you who have read a book or two in the Rowan Gant Investigations series are well aware that the main characters, Rowan and Felicity, have a pair of boisterous canines and a trio of curious felines sharing their home. The cats, as a nod to some of my favorites, were named after particular members of the literary world – those being Salinger (J. D., of course), Emily (Dickinson), and Dickens (Charles).

While the names assigned to these fictional pets are taken from the world of literature and poetry, their personalities and habits were gleaned from right here at home. The dogs are based on our own two, Benjamin (English Setter) and Quigley (Australian Cattle Dog), both of whom have long since left us for the great fire hydrant in the sky. The cats are a bit more complicated. Since we have rescued felines for years, the three in the books were each amalgams of other cats who have shared our home. Still, each had a “base feline” upon which the “character” was built.

Over the years, as will happen, many of these cats have left us. First was Sinbad, the Siamese upon which Salinger was based. Then “Data” the Calico who breathed life into Emily. And, most recently, Prince Valiant, whom we affectionately called PeeVee, who was the inspiration for Dickens.

PeeVee arrived in our home only a year or so after we were married. We had rapidly become known as the “cat rescue house” on our block. In fact, it was – and still is – a running joke that after I die E K will probably turn into a crazy cat lady. I even bought her a “Crazy Cat Lady” action figure as a gift and she keeps it tacked to the wall above her desk at work.

PeeVee, or sometimes “Peeved” was the equivalent of a tween when he showed up. Not quite a kitten, but definitely far from being adult. He was being wagged around from door to door by some of the neighborhood children as they searched for his owner. We took him in with the plan to continue that quest, which we did. However, as the weeks passed by no one came forward. By then, we had given him his name, and he had become a part of the family.

Speaking of his name – We have always tended toward naming the rescues from whence they arrive. Baley – survivor of a cotton baler incident which took her mother and siblings. Asphalt – rescued from the middle of an I-170 on ramp. “Prince Valiant” came about because of how quickly and immediately he made friends with all of the other cats in the house. There were no territorial skirmishes or fights of any kind. He was an immediate member of the “pride” and taken in without a complaint. E K felt that fit the personality of the comic strip hero and the rest is history.

PeeVee could be the typical cat at times. He thoroughly enjoyed going out into the back yard and gnawing on blades of grass.

Of course, with grass consumption for a cat also comes grass regurgitation. He was definitely good for that too. But, he wasn’t alone in that activity. We had a handful who were adventurous enough to explore, have a salad, and of course, barf.

Unlike the typical cat, however, PeeVee was not a “one person feline”. He was incredibly social and all about his “humans”. He was usually the first to greet people when they arrived, and would even see them to the door on the way out. Laps were good, no matter to whom they belonged. He even got along great with kids, which for an adult cat isn’t always the case.

If that isn’t enough, he was the first cat in the house to make friends with the dogs when we adopted them. He even had a game he would play with the English Setter. Benjamin would snuffle him, for lack of a better description, in the belly and PeeVee would purr. We called the game, “Eat the Kitty”… (Get your minds out of the gutter… We’re talking about an actual cat here…)

As he aged, PeeVee remained even-tempered and very social, even if he did tend to look annoyed when E K and the O-spring would dress him up.

He took it all in stride and even seemed to like the extra attention.

By the time PeeVee had been with us 17 years, he was still going strong. He had seen the demise of Banzai, Data, Genghis, and several others, as well as both of the dogs. He had risen through the ranks via attrition, and was the “King of the Pride.” He took his position seriously and would often let the rest of the house know about it with very vocal “calls of the wild” at all hours of the day and night.

It was around this time he was diagnosed with Diabetes. He and another of the cats, Takhoma were placed on Insulin injections. (Takhoma – short for take-home-a-sack, an ad campaign from the restaurant chain Steak -n- Shake as she was rescued from one location’s dumpster).

In all honesty, I started figuring that PeeVee would be leaving us soon. After all, at 17 he had pushed the normal limits of feline longevity, and he was now battling Diabetes and its complications such as Neuropathy. Still, except for a couple of blood sugar spikes and crashes, he continued on remarkably well.

As the last few years wore on, PeeVee seemed to develop an overactive libido – either that or senility. Maybe even both.

At any rate, he became enamored of a stuffed panda the O-spring had in her collection, and would pine for it if the door to her bedroom was closed. In order to keep him happy, O-spring gave him the panda, which he would drag around with him and at various inopportune times – such as having company present – would begin to yowl and “get busy” with it right in the middle of the living room.

One of his other major fascinations was the humidifier we used in the O-spring’s room during the winter months. Whenever we would fill the clear plastic tank and place it back on the base, it would “burp” and a large bubble would rise. PeeVee would race as fast as his old body could carry him whenever he suspected we would be even turning on the humidifier.

But, like I said above, his old body…

Neuropathy and arthritis began to take hold and he became less and less active in his declining years. He and panda would lay in his box most of the time, although he would get up to eat, use the litter box, or occupy a warm lap – whether offered or not.

Earlier this month, when PeeVee was pushing 21, he very suddenly became exceptionally lethargic. He had no interest in eating and only a little in drinking. Even panda was forgotten. A quick trip to the vet confirmed our worried suspicions. His watch spring was finally running out. He had started into renal failure, and at his advanced age there was no turning back.

The prognosis was that he only had a few days left. Unfortunately, with E K working and me spending time on Hell House, that would leave a very real possibility that he might expire alone. While many animals seem to go for that, PeeVee still acted as if he wanted human companionship, so to make sure he had it, he came with me to hell house and hung out with us while we worked.

The picture above was taken on a Friday, the day before PeeVee left us. At this point he was in no pain. He simply slept almost constantly. Since he could no longer move the lower half of his body, save for the tip of his tail, he would occasionally awaken and complain. I would pick him up, carry him around for a while as he rumbled a weak purr, then would re-position him in his box, whereupon he would drift off once again.

By mid afternoon on Saturday, he was starting to complain regularly. He couldn’t move, he was becoming dehydrated, and spiraling very quickly. While I was across the river in Collinsville, IL, doing an appearance at Archon 33, E K made the hard decision to take PeeVee to the vet and help him along this last leg of his journey.

I was sitting in the VIP hospitality suite right after finishing a book signing when I received the simple text message, “PV is gone.”

So, there you have it… The life and times of the real, honest to goodness black cat behind Dickens the cat from the Rowan Gant Investigations. Like Emily, Salinger, and the two canines, he will live on in the pages, though as Felicity and Rowan age along the timeline, so have the pets, and fictional or not, the two reluctant sleuths will soon have no choice but to face the sadness of loss.

More to come…

Murv