A Companion Novella to the Followers of Torments Saga
Beslynx is a werecat born to a werewolf pack. She faces that question every day of her life, until her secret is revealed by her younger brother. Now that it has been disclosed, she must find answers quickly to survive in a world fearful of all wereclans. Beslynx Spiritwalker is a companion novella to the Follower of Torments series. Join her as she shares her story prior to Into the Sunlits. Available on Amazon
The author says:
Beslynx was a hard character to introduce into the story. Like most cats, she refused to be trapped, which made including her in the story a bit of a challenge. As I progressed into then next book, And Keep This in Mind, I had trouble understanding what motivated her, and why she was so strongly independent. And, so asked the question “Where did she come from?” The novella is the answer that emerged after several long nights of discussion with her.
Decca tried to distract me, but nothing would give me peace. Not even her mincemeat cookies that she saved for a treat when the first snow dusted the ground white. Though I was three at the time, I felt the lure of my heritage and was doing my immature best to answer it.
Frisk, two years older than I and the most advanced of my playmates, had only just learned that he was a waning fear. Once we were inside, he vanished to hide in the other room. Bae, who was from the same litter, had yet to discover his moon phase, even though he often surpassed Frisk with his skills. He found the toys Decca kept for us when we were confined indoors while visiting, and started playing with them. As for Dru and I, everyone expected us to have the same moon phase, because we were littermates. Some even expected us to have the same ruling emotion. Somehow, even at that age, I doubted the second expectation was right.
While I paced and fretted from the forced inaction, Dru had gone to cower in Decca’s bed under the covers like the frightened toddler I should have been. Why could I not be outside fighting?
“Bes, you need to calm down, dear. It is not safe for you out there. Dreven will not let anyone get to the house. You will not need to prove yourself the proper warrior just yet.” Decca crooned to me, after giving up distracting me. “Come here. We can watch from the window.”
Oh, she said the magic word ― watch! I eagerly followed her into the other room. We passed Bae, who was immersed in a game of cat’s cradle with himself on our way to the window. The need to know what was going on outside overpowered even the siren’s call of my favorite game, a call I had never been able to ignore before. This time, though, something else had captured my imagination and ignited my soul.
At the window, Decca placed a chair so I could climb up to watch. She arranged it so I could not climb over the back and get out, however. With a resigned sigh, I obeyed the hint, and knelt on the seat to watch.
“What does this pup want, all of a sudden? I can tell her what is happening out there. She wants to be somewhere that she should not be; where I cannot let her be.” She grumbled under her breath just loud enough for me to hear her displeasure. She angled herself so she could watch me and keep an eye on what was happening.
To my eyes, despite the howls and cries from near the valley’s entrance, the afternoon appeared to be unchanged. There were no rivers of blood, no maimed and dead bodies piling up, or fields of heads rolling past, despite the ongoing shrieks and cries of battle. That all changed abruptly, when a monstrous form burst through the trees screening Dreven’s house from the others. The form charging towards the house was not Dreven.
About the Author
Born in Houston, Texas, K. Caffee has a long history of spinning captivating tales for a wide range of interested people. One of her earliest memories is being lost in a huddle of adults as a kindergartener on her way to a church choir camp. Whatever tale she had been telling was captivating enough the entire group missed a rest stop, and the bus driver proved to be very patient when the 20 or so adults all requested an emergency stop about an hour after the scheduled one. After several years of running various role play campaigns, K. Caffee thought her story telling days were done. She entered the work force, then school, but the stories were not done with her. The Followers of Torments saga ambushed her in 2014 with the ultimatum “write.. or don’t sleep.” As you can tell, despite a valiant effort to focus solely on school, K. Caffee lost the fight. And, now, despite still carrying an overloaded graduate schedule, she continues to write and more of the pukah who gave her the ultimatum in the first place are lining up at the mental doors demanding to be let in. What free time she can pry out of the hands of her story and her school work she devotes to her two furry, feline owners, human family, and discovering new friends on Facebook, Twitter, or keeping up with documenting the various non-story thoughts she gets on her blog.
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