Cat City

By Patti Larsen

Ten-year-old Susan’s parents dragged her away from her friends to spend a wet and dreary summer in a new house. She adopts Tucker, a butterscotch tabby, thinking he is just an ordinary cat. But when he brings her to his magical city deep underground, Susan falls head first into a war between the enchanted cats who live under her house and the evil rats who want to claim Cat City for their own.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Patti Larsen
• Release date: Oct 21, 2010
• ISBN: 9781466048812

Patti Larsen

I'm a USA Today bestselling, international award-winning author of so many titles I'm losing track (220+) and no end in sight! I live in beautiful Prince Edward Island, Canada, home of Anne of Green Gables and some of the most amazing beaches in the world. I currently reside with my plethora of pets and the voices in my head.

Book preview

Cat City

The Adventures of Susan and Tucker

Patti Larsen

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2010 by Patti Larsen

Find out more about Patti Larsen at

http://www.pattilarsen.com/

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Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

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Chapter One

Susan stood on the top step of the back porch, horribly upset with her circumstances.

Ever since Mom and Dad moved them so far from all her friends at Grand Point Elementary to spend a dismal summer in a rundown old place with zero neighbors except for the creepy trees that were everywhere, Susan’s life had become boring, boring, boring. She tried really hard not to take it out on Mom, but it was so easy to be temperamental and feel sorry for herself, especially considering she hadn’t had a say in the matter.

So, Dad was offered a new job in a new place. So, it gave Mom the chance to stay home and renovate the project, a musty and distinctly creepy big house at the end of the endless lane of trees, just like she had always wanted. What about what Susan wanted?

Like anyone cared what Susan wanted.

Stupid house, she thought. Stupid yard. Stupid rain.

The very last thing in the world she would choose to do was go out into the wet and surprisingly cool June morning. But Mom hadn’t given her a choice. After listening to Susan sigh all morning, Mom finally had enough.

Susan! Mom said. Outside!

And that, Susan knew, was that.

So, there she stood in her shiny red raincoat and matching red plaid mud boots Dad gave her the first day they arrived. Susan despised them. She was, after all, ten, thank you very much, and no civilized ten-year-old would be caught in red plaid rubber boots. At least no one would see her in them besides Mom and Dad, and they didn’t count.

Susan pulled up the hood of her jacket, heading out into the yard. Everything was soaked. Wet leaves clung to the slippery steps in bad need of a coat of paint. The grass lay limp and heavy, brown in patches. Even the trees looked black, bark darkened by the never-ending rain.

Susan took one look at those wet and creepy trees and shuddered inside her red raincoat.

She made her way with tiptoeing steps through the grass. But no matter how hard she tried, before too long her new boots were coated in old brown twigs and stray leaves.

Ew, Susan thought. Gross.

There wasn’t much for her to do outside either. This really was a silly idea, she decided as the raindrops pattered noisily against her hood, the knees of her jeans catching the water so that drips ran down into her boots.

Susan turned around and trudged back to the kitchen door. She stopped at the bottom step and examined herself. There was no way she was going back inside with so much junk clinging to her. She took a seat on the lowest step, resigned to the fact she would have to be hands-on to get the job done.

She pulled free her first boot and began gingerly scraping off the wet mess with one finger. And suddenly stopped, ears perked. She was sure she heard something, an out-of-the-ordinary thing. Rustling, maybe, and squeaking. Susan waited, head tilted, as she listened in the rain. Her hood muffled most sounds, making the raindrops so loud she was finally convinced she imagined it and turned back to her dirty boot when she heard the sound again. Susan froze. The rustling sounded louder, like whatever it was making the noise was coming closer to her.

Dirty boots or not, Susan wasn’t waiting around to see what nasty critter was headed her way.

Just as she was about to pull her boot on and make a dash for the kitchen door, she heard another noise. This time, the sound that made her pause was totally different.

It was the soft, pathetic mew of a cat.

Susan looked around, scanning the back yard for the source of the cry. No cat. She pulled her boot back on absently, shifting first to her right then her left, her peripheral vision blocked by the red hood. Still no cat. Susan waited and waited, almost but not quite giving up on the sound. When it came again, it was closer than she first realized. So close, in fact, she thought the cat must be right next to her.

Susan stood up and turned but couldn’t see anything. She even lowered her hood so she could hear better, the rain beading on her ponytail and across her freckled nose.

The cat mewed again, and this time Susan saw a flash of fur. It was hiding under the stairs.

Susan fell to her hands and knees, totally forgetting she hated being wet and dirty, and peered through the riser of the steps into the dark, damp and filthy space between the porch and the house. She could only see leaf piles and bits of garbage. She leaned closer still just as a bright green eye and a handful of whiskers appeared on the other side.

Susan jumped back, startled, landing on her backside in the wet grass. She could clearly see the cat, now, soaked and bedraggled, whiskers hanging low, as he made a soft, pleading mew, one paw raising toward her as he shivered.

Susan’s heart reached out and her hands did too, and the cat found his way into them and against her raincoat. She cradled him against her, rain dripping from her onto him as he looked up at her with his bright green eyes and started to purr.

Which, of course, sealed the deal for Susan. All that was left was to convince Mom he had to stay.

She carried the wet bundle up the steps to the kitchen door. He was heavy, obviously well fed, but she was sure he needed a home and was going to be her cat. Susan’s heart swelled and for the first time since she arrived in the old house, she was completely and utterly happy.

Mom stood in the kitchen, mouth open, cleaning supplies and yellow rubber gloves forgotten as she took in the soaking, dirty cat in Susan’s arms. For an instant, Susan was afraid. What if Mom said no? She was never allowed a pet before. Mom always thought they were too much work. Susan bit her lower lip.

Mom, she said, not knowing she herself looked as lost and forlorn as the cat she clutched in her arms. Can we keep him?

And to Susan’s delight, Mom smiled.

As it turned out, he was a cream tabby once he was cleaned up and dried off. Susan loved his fur, the color of warm butterscotch with light reddish stripes through it, so soft it was almost cold to the touch. Once dry, Kitty, as Susan decided to name him, was medium-haired with a bit of a mane and a thick, fluffy tail as long as he was. She loved to watch him coil it around his paws, the fullness of it hiding half of him in a soft, furry cloud.

Her new friend changed her for the better. Susan started to enjoy the old house. What was once boring and a little scary was now a grand adventure. Susan and Kitty spent endless hours exploring the rooms and closets and hallways of the house, while she made up stories and created adventures for them to play. She actually didn’t care so much about the rain anymore. She was having so much fun, she sometimes forgot about her old life and her old friends and even that Dad was gone all the time.

Susan loved Kitty so much that she forgot about being sad.

Even Dad approved with a ruffle of Kitty’s ears and a smile.

By the time a couple of days passed, Susan was so used to hiding out from the rain she was annoyed to be woken one morning by a bright golden light. It was such a long time since she saw the sun it took her some time to realize it was finally a nice day and she could go outside. She didn’t realize until she was halfway down to the main floor that Kitty, who never left her side, was nowhere to be found.

Susan made it to the kitchen, eyes going immediately to his bowl, but no Kitty. A feeling of panic hit her. Where was he?

Susan went to Mom who was flipping pancakes.

Have you seen Kitty?

No, honey, Mom said, handing her a loaded plate.

I can’t find him, Susan said, tears welling. She was being silly. Ten years old and upset because she couldn’t find her cat?

My best friend, her mind said as her lip twitched on its own.

I’m sure he’s around here somewhere, Mom said, giving her a push with her plate toward the table. He’ll probably show up before you finish your breakfast.

Susan picked at her fruit-covered pancakes, her appetite gone. What if he doesn’t?

Mom sat down next to Susan. We’ll find him, honey, it’s okay.

Susan glanced out the window at the sunshine and saw Kitty running through the grass into the trees behind the house.

Mom must have seen her expression light up. Okay, go on, Mom said to Susan’s back. She was already away like a shot.

Susan paused only long enough to put on her plaid boots and red coat. Then she was out the door and running across the grass.

Kitty! Susan called as she ran. Here, Kitty!

She paused only briefly at the edge of the forest. It seemed not quite so scary anymore now that the sun was shining.

Reviews for Cat City

[Cyle Millar-Lay · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

This is an amazing book! My little one can't get enough of it, we can't wait for the next book.