We hear there was a real-life Sweetums! Please tell us all about him or her.

As a kid, I was allergic to all sorts of animals, including cats. Our only pets were a canary named Eddy (after Nelson Eddy) and three Bantam chickens-Henry, Hetty, and Hattie. My dad had always loved cats (my mother didn't), and when I finally outgrew my allergies (circa my late teens), Dad and I conspired to get a cat. He found an ad in the neighborhood weekly about a new litter a few blocks away. It was close to Halloween. Dad told Mom that he and I were going to at least have a look at the cats. Mom wasn't pleased, but off we went. 

There were five cats in the litter-one of them was a part-Persian calico. Dad and I were entranced. We drove off with her (yes, a her-which is why Sweetums isn't a calico-male calicos are extremely rare), and Dad decided to play a little joke on Mom. When we got to the house, he put the kitten under his hat and we walked in empty-handed. "Good," Mom said. "No cat." Dad raised his hat and there was Punkin, as we decided to call her in deference to Halloween. Punkin became Punky, and as she grew older and exhibited her true perverse and destructive form, I called her Sweetums, mainly to annoy Mom. Eventually, Mom became fond of Sweetums (though she'd never admit it). Years later, I married and moved away. My husband was no cat lover and Dad and Sweetums had become boon companions. By the time my dad died, Sweetums was thirteen years old. She'd seemingly been in good health, but couldn't live without Dad and died within ten days of his passing 

Are there any cats in your life now?

One of our three girls had cat allergies, so we've never had one. However, all the neighborhood cats figure me for a sucker, so they hang out in our yard. I work in the basement with a small window above my desk. Cats visit frequently, apparently just to see how I'm getting along. For many years, there was a special cat named Sylvester who thought this was his second home and often came inside to hang out. He was as fluffy and as ornery as Sweetums, and liked going through our cupboard where I kept cat food and treats for him. He was VERY turf-oriented and didn't like it when other cats dropped by. Sylvester then turned into Attack Cat. He always won, except when he faced off with Cromwell, who was even bigger and meaner than he was. In fact, Cromwell was so horrid that the neighbors had to move to another part of the city!

Sweetums has performed some memorable pranks, like hiding the false teeth of Gertrude, Judith's "difficult" mother, in Major Vices. What do you think is his meanest or best practical joke?

You'll find out in the book I've just started-tentatively called "This Old Souse."

Any thoughts about why cats seem to be such a good fit for mystery books?

"Cozy" is the sub-genre and cats are cozy creatures (or seem to be). They also have a mystique, not unlike a murder suspect-who knows what really goes on in their fur-covered brains? And of course all the historical allusions-sacred cats (such as in Egypt), witches' familiars, etc. Cats are also the last animal to become domesticated. Let's face it-they're a mystery unto themselves.

Are there any other cats in mystery series you enjoy reading about?

I couldn't possibly say yes. That would be unfair to Sweetums. And we don't want to rile him, do we?