From the moment I saw an article in the New Zealand Herald about sightings of a mystery black cat in Canterbury, South Island, I knew it would make a good story. I cut out the article and kept it for about three years while I wrote about other things such as talking dogs, aliens and military men. It wasn’t until I saw a human interest story on our local television about a small South Island town called Middlemarch that I recalled the cat article. Evidently, the town of Middlemarch had a severe shortage of marriageable females and to help the young farmers and other men in the area find partners, the town intended to organize a dance.


The two ideas blended inside my head and a story bloomed about a community of leopard shifters who lived in Middlemarch and suffered from a shortage of women of marriageable age.


The first book in the series, SCARLET WOMAN, was one of the most difficult stories I’ve ever written. It started life as a short story. My editor liked it but thought there was too much story for the length I’d written. She suggested that I lengthen it, which I did, although my characters kicked up a fuss. So did my muse. I’m pleased I persevered because it’s now one of my favorite stories.


This week I sent the seventh book in my Middlemarch Mates series to my editor. I’m not sure why I enjoy writing about feline shifters so much. Maybe it’s because my husband isn’t a cat fan and we have a dog instead. I have to make up for it somehow! My cat of choice is the black leopard, although I have introduced a brother and sister in STRAY CAT STRUT who are lion shifters.


On October 1 CAT AND MOUSE, the fifth book in the series releases from Ellora’s Cave.

Here’s the blurb:


Every woman has sexual needs. Lana Sinclair, feline shapeshifter and widow, is more than ready for a fun night with a likeminded male. Hot lovin’ is compulsory because she’s determined to scratch the itch that’s driving her crazy. This time, career-girl Lana is picking a malleable male who won’t try to corral her into the housewife role.


Fellow shifter Duncan Ross is the perfect candidate. The cowboy follows the rodeo circuit and is only in Middlemarch for the bull riding. One night of mutual seduction, slick, naked bodies and pleasure then he’ll be on his way.


Duncan is astonished when Lana propositions him, but no one could ever call him stupid. He’s always desired Lana and now that she’s ready for sex, he’s all action. It’s time to lasso the woman of his dreams with some sweet lovin’ and charm, a sexy massage and ropes spliced together with addictive pleasure. He’ll seduce her to his way of thinking—a permanent arrangement. This is one go-round Duncan is determined to win.



And here’s a short excerpt:


Scents bombarded her—the spicy hay tang of sun-crisped grasses and the brine of the nearby salt lake, its water evaporated until winter rain and snow refilled it again. She increased her pace to an easy lope, muscles glorying in the motion. Gradually she sprinted, wind whistling across her fur and flattening her whiskers.


A sudden blur of black across her peripheral vision let her know she wasn’t alone. Lana snarled and slowed to a walk, baring her teeth at the interloper in warning.


A male. She sniffed inelegantly. Go figure. She’d smell different now that her mating mark had vanished. Available. Given the shortage of females, the Middlemarch males would consider her fair game. Unlucky for them, she knew every one of their tricks. Her lover—when she chose him—would be human, someone who had no idea of her shapeshifter status and had no intention of trapping her into marriage.


The large black cat who padded up to her ignored her testy mood. Instead he rubbed against her flanks, his low purr of pleasure and contentment bringing an unwilling feline smirk to her mouth. Lana relaxed and whirled to playfully swat his nose with her right front paw.


Duncan Ross. The male was younger than her by two years and here to ride in the Middlemarch rodeo. Lana stilled, a thought blooming. Duncan would make the perfect lover despite not being human. They could spend the weekend together, she could satisfy the sexual itch gripping her, and come Monday, Duncan would travel to the next rodeo and his eight seconds of fame while she returned to her life. The more she pushed and pulled at the idea the better she liked it. They knew each other well since Duncan and Jamie had been cousins. Lana trusted him, knew Duncan never bragged about the women in his life. Her reputation would remain safe.


Duncan barked at her, snagging her attention, and nudged her in the shoulder for good measure. He retreated and sprang at her, obviously wanting to play and wrestle. Ha! He’d have to catch her first. Grinning, she dodged his charge, whirled around and galloped away, darting in and out of the schist outcrops. Her agility and smaller size would give her an advantage. She heard the thump of his paws when he charged after her, his low growl, and her pulse sped, blood thrumming through her veins. This would be fun. She loved the thrill of the chase.



To read excerpts from the earlier Middlemarch books, visit my website at http://www.shelleymunro.com/ and to learn about the real town of Middlemarch, where the dance takes place on a yearly basis because the first was so successful check out their website. http://www.middlemarch.co.nz/


All my Middlemarch Mates books are available from Ellora’s Cave.