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Ruth J. Hartman spends her days herding cats, and her nights spinning mysterious romantic tales that make you smile and laugh out loud - or so she's been told my readers! She, her husband Garry, and their two cats, love to spend time curled up in their recliners watching old Cary Grant movies. Well, the cats, Roxy and Remmie, sit in the people's recliners. Not that the cats couldn't get their own furniture. They just choose to shed on someone else's. You know how selfish those little furry creatures can be.

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Thursday, April 12, 2012

Kitty Cat Capers and Castaway Hearts


First and foremost, I’d like to thank Ruth for inviting me to visit on her blog today.



Though I don’t have any cats in Castaway Hearts, I am a cat person through and through. My cat, Miscellaneous, aka Mizzy or Moo-Moo or “The Miz”, holds a special place in my heart and luckily doesn’t cause me as much trouble as Kitty’s cat Arthur in Ruth’s Purrfect Voyage, but she still has a few adventures of her own.

Mizzy is 9 years old and I got her when I was about 7 months pregnant with my daughter in October 2002. She was only a couple months old at the time and a handful, constantly getting into things she had no business getting into, but I’ll chalk that up to exploring her new territory. The most damage she did—We had to replace the dryer vent hose. She thought the window behind the washer and dryer might be a good lookout, but her tiny little claws ripped right through the foil hose we had at the time.

That was nothing to her first Christmas a couple months later. Tiny as she was, I sat in awe as I watched this little furball launch herself into the Christmas tree from the arm of the couch about 2-3 feet away. This resulted in me having to detangle her from the garland and light strands and gather half dozen ornaments that scattered when she literally CATapulted herself into all the twinkling and bling-bling of the tree branches. She has NEVER tangled with the Christmas tree again.

Most of her days are spent sleeping, staring at me with serious intent (though about what, I’m not sure), stretching out on the bed or couch until she’s doubled in length, purring loudly and giving me that expectant, “Here’s my belly, rub it.” look. She does take out time for minimum food/water/bathroom breaks, but in a nutshell, the rest of her day is devoted to being, well, a spoiled fur-baby.

She is well meaning, but she’s not much of a mouser. Living in the country, we have mice issues from time to time- mostly in the winter, and out of concern for Miz, I opt to use sticky traps instead of the good old snap-traps. She does catch the occasional mouse herself- once she caught one and dropped it at the feet of my, then, one-year-old daughter. Ick! I’ve since learned that cats don’t always bring you “gifts” like that just to say, “I love you” or even “Hey, I’m doing my part.”

No, it’s more along the lines of your cat trying to educate you on how YOU are doing it wrong—

“See…THIS is how you hunt for food. You are no hunter and don’t know how to do it. Let me show you the PROPER way to supply food and nourishment for our family.”

Of course, I’ve learned over the years not to leave ANY kind of trap out where The Miz can get to it. Not after she came limp-jogging through the living room with a sticky trap shoe flopping on a front paw one morning. If I’m not mistaken, it also had a mouse attached and she’d apparently been “pawing” at it, tormenting it, only to find she’d fallen victim to the stickiness as well. My husband had to pull it off and for several days after that she weebled and wobbled and stuck to the carpet until the sticky wore off. I wouldn’t trade her for the world though.

Thanks again for having me, Ruth!



Please take a moment to check out my debut novel, Castaway Hearts, now available from Turquoise Morning Press.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~



Twice orphaned, Catherine Barrett arrives in Virginia a stranger to her closest kin and secretly engaged to the one man her family would disapprove of- her seafaring grandfather’s apprentice. Add to her troubles, the rich and intriguing older brother of her secret betrothed, Dawson Randolph, a plantation owner who is as heartless as he is handsome. Heartbroken when her intended sets sail for his maiden voyage, Catherine finds it difficult to adjust to her new life, hoping to befriend the one man who is, undoubtedly, the match her grandparents wish for her. Dawson’s distaste for her secret engagement to his brother makes it clear he has no designs for marriage to anyone. Especially her.

Ten years since the tragic loss of his young wife and infant son, Dawson Randolph is convinced love and marriage is a fool’s game and resents being pardon to his brother’s hidden engagement. Damned by his instant attraction and his own growing desire, Dawson vows to befriend her against his better judgment. Determined to bring her happiness in a time of fear and uncertainty, Dawson puts aside his animosity to become her confidant, only to realize Catherine holds the key to his heart. When tragedy strikes at sea, Catherine’s guilt pushes Dawson to the fringes of her life as madness consumes her.

Can his love save her before she drowns in her own grief? Or is he doomed to love her from a distance, always in the shadow of her love for his dead brother?



You can find out more about Taryn Raye at the following-



Website- http://authortarynraye.webs.com/

Blog- http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/

Facebook Author Page: http://www.facebook.com/TarynRayeRomanceWriter

About.Me- http://about.me/TarynRaye

@ScribblingTaryn on Twitter

Publisher’s Website- http://www.turquoisemorningpress.com/

3 comments:

Devon Matthews said...

Hi Taryn! I loved reading about Mizzy. I miss my kitties so much. All the best with Castaway Hearts! I hope you sell a ton! :)

Taryn Raye said...

Sorry I haven't been by today Ruth. I was visiting with my grandmother today.

Thanks for having me.

Ruth J. Hartman said...

No problem, Taryn :)