So you can read my books

Monday, December 5, 2011


Mesmer’s was as it always was : utterly unique …

and dangerous.

Mesmer’s is the only French Quarter restaurant owned by a cat … Mesmer, daughter of Bast. If you are lucky, you will only see her in her cat form. Unlucky is the mortal that sees her as a tiger.

A tiger can eat 100 pounds of meat a night! Compare that to 400 hamburgers! They need a lot of food because they go days between meals. So it is no coincidence that Mesmer owns a restaurant!

Heather McCorkle was here to talk about a special edition of her The Secret Of Spruce Knoll being releasing from Compass Press this month.

She’s doing a special tour to go along with it.

The special part,

a percentage of the proceeds from every special edition sold (in every format) between its release date and 12-12-2012,

will go toward Heather’s favorite charity that protects endangered species.

Her goal is to make at least $10,000 for the charity.

Of course there are prizes during the tour which goes from December 1st through the 17th. Prizes include

a symbolic endangered species adoption of the winner’s choice

(a $50 donation by Heather to the charity for the endangered species of the winner’s choice, and cute stuffed animal for the winner!),

signed copies of her novels and great swag. For full details, and to enter, go here.

For the tour Heather has asked each blog host to pick their favorite endangered species and she will tell us a fun or interesting fact about that animal.

My favorite?

The tiger, hence my suggesting Mesmer’s at the site of the interview.

Heather looked around at the surroundings. Strange eddys and currents flowed through the darkness, changing the clothing and era of those around us.

Roaring Twenties mobsters and their gun-toting molls became toga-clad Roman Senators with their ladies.

Maid Marion looked askance at the link of Boudin on her plate, while Robin of Locksley lustily wolfed it down, smiling at her expression.

The willowy Amanda Carr was singing "Where Can I Go Without You?," backed up by the Kenny Hadley band. She was a survivor, starting her own record company to get her music out to the world.

Heather cleared her throat, "Much like you, Roland, I’ve felt a close connection with tigers since I was young, though I don’t have the fun story to tell that you do.’

Mesmer leapt into the empty chair between us at our table and yowled oddly. Heather looked a question at me. I translated :

“Mesmer wants to know what story.”

Mesmer turned her strangely intelligent eyes to me, and I explained, “Ever since Mother gave me a stuffed …”

Mesmer began to growl, and I hastily explained, “”A toy tiger! Anyway since then, I loved tigers.”

Mesmer yodled, “Naturally so.”

“So when my kindergarten class toured the Detroit Zoo with my mother as the other leader – and I turned up missing at the lunch break, she knew just where I was.”

Heather laughed, “The tiger enclosure, right?”

“Too right. When she arrived, all out of breath from running, sure enough, there I was, having edged past all the barriers, just slipping down the fake stone cliff to my beautiful tigers.”

Mesmer rumbled, “You would have made a beautiful ... snack.”

I nodded. “Again, too right. But Mother knew the awe I held of her, so she whispered, “Roland Durand Yeomans, you come right back up here. Don’t make me go down there and hurt those tigers!”

My eyes grew wet. “And such was my belief at the time that Mother could do anything, I scurried back up … to save the tigers from her!”

Mesmer chuckled, then a crash of falling dishes came from the back of the restaurant. She leapt down to the floor, her body suddenly shimmering. I shivered.

Five pounds of cat eerily, slowly transformed into five hundred pounds of tiger with each padding step. Muscles rippled like corded rope beneath a pelt of amber, streaked with black.

Long sharp fangs gleamed in the dark restaurant. The dinnerware was a gift from her mother, Bast. Mesmer only reluctantly tolerated two-leggeds at best. At worst? You don't want to know.

Heather looked another question at me, and I said, “Some feeble-fingered dish washer is about to become lunch.”

Heather paled, and I replied, “What can I say? Mesmer’s is that kind of place.”

There was a loud human yelp from the closed kitchen doors, followed by Mesmer’s roar, then silence.

Heather shivered, then husked, “It breaks my heart that tigers have moved up from endangered to critically endangered.”

I frowned, “Really?”

She nodded. “Yes, part of that reason is that an astounding 93% of their natural habitat has been destroyed or developed.”

To get Heather’s mind off the new sounds of Mesmer eating, I said, “Here’s a Fun Fact: Though it may be hard to tell them apart, each tiger’s stripes are a pattern unique to the individual.”

Heather rasped, “I didn’t catch a clear glimpse of Mesmer’s.”

I shivered. “Only the unlucky do that.”

That was when the ghost of Errol Flynn sat down beside Heather, flashing his wide sly grin. You want to know what happened next? Sure you do.

But what happens at Mesmer’s stays at Mesmer’s.

Here are the Buy links for the eBooks :



  1. We'll never tell! What happened at Mesmer's stays between you, me, Mesmer, and Errol. ;) Thanks so much for having me over Roland and Mesmer. Your support of such a fabulous cause means the world to me.

  2. Hi Roland and Heather. Mysterious.

    Roland did you see I finally got the review up on Amazon? And will be reviewing on my blog soon.

    I'm back for judging for RFWer. Just letting you know I've put up a Vote Poll on RFWer so you can have your say this week!


  3. Heather :
    I'm a gentleman. Mesmer is a close-lipped tiger/cat. And Errol is ... well, Errol!

    We were happy to have you over. Come back anytime. I hope you and I both raise a nice sum for our respective charities! Roland

    Denise :
    No, I hadn't noticed. Still struggling with work and that darn abcessed tooth! As for voting ... I think all of the entrants are winners!

  4. Hmm, almost sounds like Heather is in Meilori's . .

    My favorite is the Black Bengle. Something regal and powerful in a well fed, fully grown Bengle (I may be spelling it wrong).

    Shame to see any tigers are endangered. One of my favorite cats.


  5. I'm happy to see Heather here. What a great thing she's doing!

    I think I saw that cat when I was in New Orleans in October. I love the French Quarter.

  6. L'Aussie, hi hon! Mysterious, I like that!

    Roland, thank you so much! I hope we're both able to raise a wonderful amount!

    Donna, it is a shame to see them endangered, even sadder that they have graduated to the critically endangered list.

    Theresa, thank you so much. I'd love to visit New Orleans some day!

  7. Donna :
    Mesmer's is like Meilori's, only smaller -- with a more ill-tempered owner! The sable cats are indeed beautiful!

    Theresa :
    Yes, that little cat is a fixture in the French Quarter. I hope you enjoyed your visit to New Orleans this October.

    Heather :
    May be both find success in our charities!