Description, Excerpt, Reviews
Tory’s not a conventional witch…
Her life has turned upside down. A cat is talking to her. Her ex disapproves of her. And a sociopath who calls himself a magic man has stolen the souls of seven woman—including one of her best friends.
He’s a soul eater…
And Tory is his next target. He has the god of war on his side. She has something on her side, too: an old, flatulent and fat black cat.
**THE FAT CAT is a short paranormal romance–approximately 10,000 words. It was originally published in the 2011 charity anthology, ENTANGLED.**
Tory walked slowly down the row of cages, gazing at each kitten, forcing herself to be selective. She wanted a friendly cat. It had been nearly four years since her brother’s cat disappeared, but she still missed her. When she watched her favorite soap opera, Belle used to sit on her lap and meow a demand to be petted. Tory hoped she’d found a good home.
In the seventh cage, a young ginger cat rubbed her body against the crisscrossed cage wire, purring.
“Is this a girl?” Tory asked. She’d heard males were more likely to spray, and she didn’t want to deal with that. Besides, except for occasional visits from her two brothers, right now her condo was a No Penis Zone.
“It’s a girl.” The woman stepped in front of her, reaching for the latch.
Max pulled one of Tory’s curls. “A redhead like you.”
“Hers is like a lion’s.” Tory patted her hair and repeated what a waiter said yesterday at lunch. “Mine is like a sunrise.”
He rolled his eyes, but the volunteer was handing her the kitten, making it easy to ignore him. Tory held the little bundle of fun against her chest, right over her heart, rubbing the soft fur behind the right ear with the tips of her fingers. The kitten purred, her small body reverberating.
“Aw, what a cutie.” It would be easy to fall in love with this kitten.
Take me! The voice shouted into her head from across the hall.
Tory’s muscles tensed, but she continued to rub the kitten’s ear, a soothing hum in her throat.
Her teeth clenched. This was getting old. She looked at the door, a scream welling up in her head. No!
The kitten jerked, making a sound like a squeaky door, its legs scrabbling. Pinpricks from her nails stabbed Tory’s skin through her sweatshirt.
“You’re squeezing the kitten.” The volunteer wrenched the kitten out of Tory’s arms.
Tory stood with her empty hands still in the air. “I didn’t squeeze her. I would never hurt a kitten.” What was she supposed to say? That she’d shouted silently and the kitten freaked?
They’re going to kill me. I heard them.
Tory glanced behind her, her fingers curling into her palms. If she didn’t answer the voice, it would go away.
They think no one will take me. I’m old and I eat too much.
I can’t take you. Tory gave in. I—
A yowl stopped Tory’s mental voice. It turned into words. If you don’t take me, I’ll die. I don’t want to die. I want to live.
“Tory.” A hand touched her shoulder, and she started, realizing she was staring at the door. She whipped her head around, her hair flying out. Max was leaning toward her. “You all right?”
“Did you hear anything?” she asked. “Someone speaking? A voice from across the hall?”