Sherlock Holmes Cat Novels & Stories

"So, the same man you accused of being a mole went out of his way to do this for you?" "I didn't accuse him." She said, pursing her lips. "I only suggested...You know what? Never mind.” She nuzzled her cat. “ I have my Loki now, and I'm the happiest girl in the world." She was talking to her cat now. "You need to take it back." Her head snapped up. "What? No." "I don't do cats, Sophia. Not now, not ever." She scoffed, right before bending over again to place the cat gently into its carrier.

She punched in the password and the door was opened. A friendly smile spread across her face. “Hi, Fudge—” “Meow!” A fat cat with a white body and light yellow ears was seen lying on the couch lazily. It produced a cute sound in the quiet living room. “...” Catherine blinked. “Fudge?” “Meowww!” After the fat cat stretched its body, it jumped down the couch and walked toward her legs to smell the toys that she was carrying. Uninterested, the cat returned to the couch and lay on it in an arrogant manner.

The tips of my ears burned. A shiver ran down to my tailbone, and a fluffy wolf tail threatened to manifest right then and there. Just then, a new notification popped up at the top of the screen. Rylan Blackthorn just posted a new Tweet. My finger shook as I tapped it. The message was brief: Mischievous kitten. The accompanying image shows a majestic Maine Coon cat, its fur identical to my wolf-like coat, resting its fluffy head affectionately on a slender, pale hand.

That way, it would be easier when it was time to give her up. The small feline glared back at me and climbed onto my lap more determinedly, giving a loud, demanding meow. I bared my teeth at the angry-looking cat. “I’m not gonna pet you. For all I know, you could be a fellow criminal like your owner. Hell, you could be the mastermind.” When a low snicker reached my ears, I looked up to find Mom trying to hold in a laugh. “What?” I demanded. “It could be true.”

We were currently having breakfast. I smiled at him. "Are you late? You can go now; I can manage myself." "Hurry up—damn it!" Hudson startled and almost sprang up from his seat. I leaned down to see what had caught his attention. My face remained blank as Kitty came to me, clinging to my foot like a needy soul. Hudson shamelessly kicked my pet. I glared at Hudson. "Oh, sorry. I was surprised. I despise cats; their faces scare me!"

Outside the small hotel, Blake saw Jessica coming out from the inside and drove away first. In the Fergusons' study. As soon as he opened the door, the big white cat heard the familiar footsteps and jumped down from the leather chair. It trotted to Blake's feet and rubbed its soft body against his calf, acting like a spoiled child. It meowed softly and seductively...

"It's because I am regal, cunning and proud like a cat and my mother loves cats. My siblings are Catherine and Cheshire." Wow, dedication to a theme. I could not help but giggle. I loved cats too. I had never been allowed a pet growing up in the country house as a second class citizen. I suddenly realized I could get one now. "You don't like cats, Sachin?" I asked. "I like cats, yeah. My mate has a white Persian cat named Sphinx. He hates me," Sachin said as he sautéed some mushrooms. "He's bright!" Chat jokes.

She forgot her sorrowful mood for a moment and exclaimed: "How adorable! Is this not a Chinchilla cat?" Previously, Emily had wanted to use a picture of this type of cat as her computer wallpaper, but Winston had thwarted her efforts: "Meow!" The beautiful cat did not shy away as she approached, moving closer to Emily, its big gentle eyes gazing up at her. Emily, noticing the branded keychain around the cat's neck, wondered if a tourist had brought it. She asked: "You're so lovely! Is your owner around here?"

A feral hiss radiated from the shadows. I squinted and made out the silhouette of a cat. How in the world did this cat get in here? I didn’t have a concrete answer, but I was willing to bet money on the guess that werewolves and cats don’t get along. I reached my hand into the little nook where the cat had folded itself. It was my turn to hiss as the cat’s claws made contact with the flesh of my hand. “You little shit,” I muttered as I grabbed the cat by the scruff of its neck and pulled it out of the hole.

"It was drowned, my lord." Drowned? Charles peeled back the cloth and sucked in a harsh breath. A black cat was lying dead in his hands. The little body was stiff, cold and still damp. Despite all this, he recognized the cat's markings. It was Muff. One of the two cats from the Sheridan house. "The poor thing!" Linley's eyes were bright as he held Kate's bundled body closer to his chest. The baby was asleep and Linley raised her higher in his arms as he spoke.