This collection contains books 61-63 in the popular cat sleuth series The Mysteries of Max. Enjoy this intrepid feline detective's adventures at a purrfectly handsome discount.
Purrfect Scam (Max 61)
The artist formerly known as Max
In Hampton Cove, Chase Kingsley buys a pair of Take-a-Hike e-sneakers, the new battery-powered sneakers that are all the rage. Little does he suspect that the consequences of his impulse buy will be far-reaching and affect his entire family.
Meanwhile Bella the cow approaches retired feline detective Max to secure his assistance in a matter of the gravest importance, namely the blatant infringement of her publicity rights.
In Brooklyn, Klara Trapper is worried about her twin sister, who hasn’t responded to any of her messages or answered her calls. Klara works at The Green Parrot, the well-known art gallery that sells the work of Jack Polk, the young artist who is taking the art world by storm.
Before long these events collide, and force Max to dig deep and use his big brain to its full capacity.
Purrfect Fury (Max 62)
My Kingdom for a Cat!
Look, I don’t mind the occasional house guest. After all, cats are well-known for their hospitality. Okay, maybe that’s not entirely true, but when a woman moved in and immediately announced she was allergic to cats and induced Odelia to kick us all out of the house, I admit I wasn’t happy about it. And then when Chase was taken to the hospital suffering from a mysterious ailment at the same time as the four of us came down with a weird rash, it was enough to cause me to worry.
And this was even before the strange events began in earnest. Burglars, spies and other denizens of the underworld suddenly circled our home—that technically wasn’t our home anymore. Suffice it to say I was starting to feel the heat!
Purrfect Christmas (Max 63)
Tis the Season to be Molly
I would like to say that Christmas is my favorite holiday but it’s not. It’s not the day itself, it’s the season. Too cold, too wet and way too much snow. Cats aren’t in the habit of wearing shoes, you see, so all this snow and ice plays havoc on our poor paws. Now if they would simply schedule Christmas in the summer, or even the spring, I’d be all for it. But then we all know that the powers that be don’t consider a cat’s opinion valid, so I won’t even go there.
Okay, so all this simply to say that this latest installment in my chronicles deals with Christmas, Christmas stores, in fact all things Christmas. The good part is that even in the middle of winter Tex decided to drag his barbecue set from the shed and cook us up some delicious goodies. But before that happened—and I guess this is the bad part—there were a bunch of murders being committed and I had to tax my brain—my big brain as my friend Dooley never fails to point out—to try and figure out who was behind it.
