The Orange Protocol Series
Containment Not Recommended
They broke his mind. Now he solves crimes one catnap at a time.
Luis Cannon was a hardboiled detective. Trench coat, gravel voice, bone-deep vendetta against injustice. Then he touched the Cognichonk, a cursed and possibly divine relic disguised as a cosmic cat toy, and woke up in a cardboard box with no name and four paws.
His consciousness is scattered now, spread thin across a psychic network of orange cats. When they sync, they become him: a mystery-solving sleuth with noir narration and a vendetta against household appliances. When the signal fades, they go back to licking power cords and screaming at ceiling fans.
"We are a precision instrument of justice," Luis reminds them. "Not a loofah with abandonment issues."
They are not listening. They are never listening.
Something is wrong in the network. Cats are going lucid, and lucid cats have opinions. Occult sigils are spreading across the suburbs like magical malware. And Luis's old partner, presumed dead, might be back. With claws.
The Cognichonk is not sleeping anymore. It is choosing sides.
If Luis does not crack this case fast, he will not just lose control of the cats. He will lose whatever is left of the man.
A surreal noir where the detective has a dozen bodies and no idea which one he is in.
They shattered his mind. Now he's solving crimes one catnap at a time.
Luis Cannon was a hardboiled detective—gravel voice, trench coat, the usual baggage. Then he touched the Cognichonk: a cursed, possibly divine cat toy from beyond time. Now his consciousness is scattered across a psychic network of orange cats.
Each time one of them taps into the Cognichonk, they become him—brilliant, cynical, noir-narrating sleuth. Then it fades. And they go back to screaming at ceiling fans and licking power outlets.
But something's stirring in the network. Cats are remembering things they shouldn't. Factions are forming. Occult sigils are spreading across suburbs like magical malware. And an old rival with too many lives is chasing ascension. If Luis doesn't crack the case fast, he won't just lose his mind—he'll lose what's left of himself.
A satirical noir-fantasy featuring occult jazz clubs, possessed ceiling fans, and a kitten who speaks in prophecy. Because the truth has claws. And it naps in sunbeams.
Signal Integrity Compromised
The network is fracturing. The signal is failing. And something ancient just said hello.
Luis Cannon has adapted to life as a distributed consciousness inside fifteen orange cats. He has a system. He has allies. He even has something resembling a routine—if your routine includes waking up in a Persian cat named Muffin Top and solving supernatural crimes before breakfast.
But the psychic network that holds him together is degrading. Dead zones are forming. Jumps are getting harder. His old partner Vance is alive, conflicted, and working for the enemy. And Mallory Vex is building something worse than anyone imagined—a controlled network with herself as its Anchor, powered by counterfeit shards and a test subject that shouldn't exist.
Then there's the other problem. The one lurking beneath Vex's architecture like a heartbeat in the walls. The one even she didn't plan for.
The Pantry God is waking. And it's hungry.
Containment Failure Imminent
She wanted to control the network. She built a door instead. Now something's walking through it.
Mallory Vex is underground, rebuilding, and more dangerous than ever. But the cosmic entity she accidentally invited into her architecture doesn't take orders. The Pantry God has tasted the Cognichonk's frequency, and it wants more.
Luis Cannon faces a threat that can't be out-detected or out-clawed—a force older than the network, older than the artifact, older than anything with a name. Vex becomes the reluctant ally nobody wanted and nobody trusts. An ancient contact who's been watching the Cognichonk since before the Widow touched it finally steps into the light. And Luis confronts the question he's been avoiding since page one of Book 1: if restoration to human form were possible, would he even take it?
The answer might surprise him. It'll definitely surprise the cats.
Prior Incidents Declassified
Before the cats. Before the Cognichonk. Before everything went sideways.
Luis Cannon was a detective. A real one. Badge, desk, bad coffee, worse hours. The kind of investigator who refused to close a file when the file was wrong—even when the department wanted it buried and his partner wanted to go home.
Prior Incidents Declassified collects cases from Luis's human days: the investigations he references in passing, the ones that shaped the detective the cats inherited. Smuggling rings operating out of daycares where the finger paints bit back. Stakeouts that lasted longer than marriages. The cases that taught him to trust his instincts, mistrust authority, and never, under any circumstances, eat the precinct chili.
Standalone stories set in the world of The Orange Protocol—same voice, same city, same bone-dry noir sensibility. No whiskers required.