- The Pooch Salute! (Fashion Frenchies #2)
- Love Potion Commotion! (Fashion Frenchies #1)
Doggy fashion designer by day, Dr. Doolittle by night!
Vivian Feng has a secret: she can talk to animals. With help from her husband and two fashionable Frenchies, she fosters even the trickiest shelter dogs—while running an online canine couture business and keeping her magical gift hidden from her tech-savvy grandniece.
Deadline: looming. Foster dog: brooding. And the potion that could save the family biz? Still brewing…
Dogwear designer Vivian Feng is preparing for the biggest event of the summer—a flashy Fourth of July parade that could take her family-run fashion business to the next level. She even takes on another foster dog, certain she can manage it all with one arm tied behind her back—until she doesn’t have a choice.
When a mishap with her newest houseguest leaves her with a broken arm, everything unravels. Determined not to let an injury—or a painfully slow-simmering healing potion—derail her deadline, Vivian scrambles to stitch together a solution.
Meanwhile, her grandniece has a secret riding on the parade’s success…and the foster dog, August—a guarded but loyal German shepherd—is living with invisible scars he’s not ready to reveal.
With everything on the line—from the future of the Fashion Frenchies to a foster dog’s second chance—it’ll take teamwork, trust, and a little Frenchie flair to pull off a miracle…and remind everyone that love is the real magic.
Heartfelt, funny, and full of canine charm, this cozy contemporary fantasy is perfect for fans of:
• Bewitched-style domestic magic with a modern twist
• A Dog’s Purpose and other emotional dog stories
• Feel-good reads that make you smile, sigh, and believe in second chances
• Uplifting tales about family, healing, and second chances—with plenty of warm fuzzies
The Pooch Salute! is Book 2 in the Fashion Frenchies series but works great as a standalone.
Funded in under a week on Kickstarter!
Chapter 1
Leggo the brindle and white French bulldog watched from under the curtain of lace covering the front room’s table as the men carried in the dog crate. It was the biggest crate he’d ever seen. And from the smell of him, the occupant needed the space. Big dog. He teethed his bully stick nervously. The curtains were drawn to keep the heat out, which made the room cooler, but also shadowy-er, so he couldn’t see anything too well.
The men paused, setting the crate down on the carpet and catching their breath.
“You sure he won’t be too much for you, ma’am?” asked one.
“We’ll be fine,” said Leggo’s owner, Vivian Feng. “But I need the carrier brought down into the basement, where it’s cooler. I’ll introduce him to my pack there.”
“Yes, ma’am,” said the man, after a doubtful look at his friend. They bent over the big crate again, but the new dog didn’t bark.
READ MORE“Stay out of the way, Marty,” Vivian said to her other Frenchie, a white plug of a dog wearing a gray tank top that said GYM CLUB in capital letters across his back.
Marty padded away from the humans. Then, after swilling the air, he changed course to visit his brother under the table.
They watched the men’s feet as they carried the crate down into the basement.
Leggo stopped chewing on his bully stick. “He big?” he asked his brother in Dog.
“The biggest Mom’s ever fostered,” said Marty. “You ain’t afraid, are ya?”
Leggo didn’t answer, but paused his gnawing.
“C’maaaawn! There ain’t a shelter dog out there me, you, and Mom can’t be buds with. He’ll find his forever home in no time!”
Leggo grunted doubtfully. This dog smelled different. He’d seen plenty of shelter dogs come and go but none of them smelled like this. But Marty probably didn’t even notice. It was just a hint of something—but the brindle couldn’t put his paw on it.
The men were coming back into the room, without the big cage. Marty bounded over. As the mascot for the family business, he had to keep “brand awareness” up. Whatever that was. Leggo was just glad he didn’t have to do it.
One of the men bent down to pet him. “Hey, big fella. Go easy on the new guy, alright?”
Marty smiled up at him.
“Marty’s just the dog to help our new foster out,” said Vivian.
“Don’t be modest, honey!” said her friend, Dr. Chen, in her thick accent. “You have a way with dogs. Like magic!”
Vivian’s grin widened. “I wouldn’t say that,” she said.
“No, no! This dog come to me because nothing work for him at old shelter. Even my acupuncture only calm him a little.”
“I’m sure we’ll do fine with him,” said Vivian. “And even if we don’t, he’s not going back to Craggy Heights.”
Leggo shook his bully stick with a soft growl. Craggy Heights was a kill shelter. Vivian usually got their fosters from the Berryville No-Kill Animal Shelter. But apparently some other shelter had sent this new dog to their house.
“I get what you’re saying, ma’am,” said the man petting Marty, “but a breed like that deserves space to run, not spend the rest of his life boxed up in a shelter—even if it is a humane one.”
“I won’t have him put down,” said Vivian in an icy tone.
The man petting Marty scratched beneath his hat. After a pause, he said, “Well, if you need help with his crate when he’s through here, give us a call.” He pushed himself to standing and turned to his friend. “Could you give her a card?”
Smiling again, Vivian accepted the business card. “Let me get you one of mine,” she said, digging into her taxi-yellow purse. She handed them two cards apiece.
“‘Canine fashion designer’?” said the one who hadn’t petted Marty. He glanced at Vivian’s outfit. She had on a tan shirt with a lot of pockets, like she was going on safari, but wore a purple skirt that didn’t quite reach the floor, revealing the acid green toes of her pointy shoes.
The other man turned the card around and chuckled. “Hey, there’s the big guy!” he said, showing Marty the photo of himself dressed in an Oregon Ducks dog jersey.
“If you like that, you’ll love our Instagram account,” said Vivian. “Search for ‘Fashion Frenchies’ and you’ll find us.”
The man chuckled again. “My wife’ll love this. Well, thanks again, ma’am!”
At the door, Vivian and Dr. Chen watched them drive off in their truck. After some more chitchat, Dr. Chen excused herself—she’d taken a special trip out to Berryville to see her canine patient off; now she had to get back to her office before her next patient.
“Thanks again for bringing him to me,” said Vivian.
“No problem, honey! You take my cards, give them away, okay?”
“Of course!”
The acupuncturist left the house. After putting her friend’s cards away in her purse, Vivian shut the door. She reached into her pocket.
“All right, handsome. Let’s see what’s going on with you. Marty, Leggo!”
The dogs’ ears perked up. “Yeah, Mom?” they said in English.
“Let’s go,” she said to them.
Marty galloped to her side, then waited, looking up at her. Vivian took the first step down. Marty heeled perfectly. Leggo watched them disappear down into the basement. Then crept forward.
The strange new dog awaited.
COLLAPSE