Beslynx Spiritwalker
A Companion Novella to the Followers of Torments Saga
What do
you do when a family curse puts you in direct opposition to Pack Law?
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.
Excerpt:
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.
Connect with K. Caffee
***
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2 comments:
Thank you so much for the spotlight Marianne! I cannot say thank you enough.
You are so welcome Kat! Best wishes on the new release.
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