Cat In A Diamond Dazzle

Chapter - Tailpiece

Midnight Louie Celebrates

Well, this is more like it! All things come to he who waits, and I have been waiting for my just desserts for some time. I had just expected them to be edible instead of esthetic. But that is okay. I can roll with the rewards.

I have been the object of a kick more than once before, during my street days, but I have never been on a shoe before.

"The Midnight Louie Shoe." That phrase has a ring to it. "The Midnight Louie Pussyfoot Pump."

Toney. "The Midnight Louie Sophisticat Spikes." Better! More guts. These shoes were made for stompin'--not at the Savoy, but at the Crystal Phoenix.

You may distrust my exuberance. You may suspect that I have been dipping into the nip too much lately. I may even sound a trifle giddy. But I am one to whom recognition has come late . . . er, later ... in life. Observing the shenanigans of these romance cover-model hunks, what reader may have considered that Midnight Louie once nearly was one? True, I am a cover model now, but only after much time and travail, and only after a golden opportunity for fame was cruelly snatched away in my youth, when I was svelte and swell-headed enough to really enjoy it.

You may recall my abortive venture into a romance-novel quartet a decade ago, wherein I was soundly scolded for conduct unbecoming a romance character and relieved of forty percent of my literary weight (i.e., almost half of my lines ended up on the cutting room floor), thanks to the ministrations of a nervous editor who judged Midnight Louie too powerful for the romance reader of a decade ago.

Savvy early thought of using me as a cover image, albeit minor, was soon quashed by a flurry of actions to conceal all things furry and feline about the romances in question. I did make it onto a

promotional page at the books' rear, but the volumes quickly plunged into the river of pulp from whence all paperbacks flow and eventually return. Now, of course, romance series with continuing cat characters are the "in" thing; some even pretend to talk, like me. (I refuse to talk to inferior species, which is why I write my opinions.) Today romance short-fiction anthologies are built around those of my ilk, on the cover and inside it. I was obviously (I say with almost no hubris) ahead of my time.

But the future was unseen during that bleak period of rejection and exile. Oh, I soldiered on with my customary bravado, but the entire episode stuck in my claw. So how I relish my long overdue vindication as a rightfully celebrated covercat not only on my own mystery series ... but on a custom pair of designer high heels as well. I can hardly wait to see what heights of fame my forthcoming cat food gig will bring!

Very best fishes,

Midnight Louie, Esq. P.S.

You can reach Midnight Louie on the Internet at: http://www.catwriter.com/cdouglas

--CND

Carole Nelson Douglas

Talks Shoes and Show Biz

Midnight Louie and I agree for once: his new prominence in the fashion-footwear world is the cat's meow.

Writers sometimes burden characters with their own quirks; Temple's high-heel addiction is such an inherited trait. So do the details of a writer's life and fiction blend.

Here's another relevant example of this eternal intertwining: At the 1995 Romantic Times magazine Booklovers Convention in Fort Worth, a grandmotherly costume volunteer delivered a drop-dead hilarious monologue about her adventures with the daring young men in the cover model pageant.

These included emergency repairs of a delicate nature, given the men's costuming, or lack of same.

Romance convention attendees might assume that this true-to-life incident inspired a scene in this book in which Temple faces a similar crisis. Not so. Time passes, but classic human dilemmas do not.

During college theatrical days I myself confronted a panicked Mountie from Little Mary Sunshine who had altogether too much sun shining on a place where it shouldn't, and was due onstage for an athletic dance number in minutes . . . heck, seconds! He, too, had no time to remove his pants. He also had a lot more panicking to do before the situation was all sewed up, but he didn't miss his cue ... or suffer any pain, although I can't speak for humiliation on either of our parts.

This is one story that leaves everyone in stitches