Sevenlives and the Fleabottom Sting

By Kenny Morrison

Join Sevenlives in this thrilling adventure to solve a crime and overcome the greedy Reginald Fleabottom.
Sevenlives the cat has existed for centuries and transforms in appearance and powers to Sevenia, a Werecat who has travelled in different time zones in search of peace.
She saves the life of an Alsatian dog and what follows is the mystery behind the attack and the discovery of sick horses. In the rural north of England Sevenlives meets a strange owl who is not what he seems.
Find out if Sevenlives can conquer the evil horse trainer Fleabottom without her Werecat form being discovered.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse UK
• Release date: Nov 26, 2012
• ISBN: 9781477230985

Kenny Morrison

Kenny Morrison is a Senior Manager in the Construction Industry. He lives in Scotland on the edge of the city and glorious countryside of the Highlands within an hours drive. He works with many personalities in business and with his positive attitude believes in his creative ambitions. His work involves constant diversity and much formal and factual writing. He realized that his imagination allows him to be someone else and create individuality in his life. In recent years he has commenced three writing projects. One which is finished, a childrens thriller in Sevenlives and the Woof Pack. He has the beginnings of an adult suspense thriller set in Florence, Italy which has been put to one side in order to work on and complete the second Sevenlives thriller as a follow up to the Woof Pack.

Book preview

Sevenlives

and the

Fleabottom Sting

Kenny Morrison

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AuthorHouse™

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Bloomington, IN 47403

www.authorhouse.com

Phone: [phone]

© 2012 by Kenny Morrison. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 11/19/2012

ISBN: 978-1-4772-3097-8 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4772-3098-5 (e)

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and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

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Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Contents

Chapter One

Howling Help

Chapter Two

Breaking News

Chapter Three

Meeting Orpheus

Chapter Four

The crimes of Meg and Chips

Chapter Five

Lost shoe surprise

Chapter Six

Hectors Surprise

Chapter Seven

I had a horse I had nae mair

Chapter Eight

A murder of crows

Chapter Nine

The plan is born

Chapter Ten

Chips nightmare

Chapter Eleven

Behind the door

Chapter Twelve

The collies meet Sevenia

Chapter Thirteen

The Sting is on

The Players

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Chapter One

Howling Help

Sevenlives had meandered through undergrowth, within woodland and pasture alike, sometimes climbing high the nearest tree trunk to stretch out on a limb. She had taken in any fresh scent from those high vantage positions, listening for the howl that had brought her in its direction.

The English countryside, darkened by the onset of night meant the woodland she passed through shimmered with moonlight. The reflections of light on small pairs of eyes from small creatures indicated that she was not alone, but then she would have known that even if it had been pitch black.

Sevenia had retained her alternative form of the cat—Sevenlives, enjoying the bush and shrub leaves brushing her coat as she weaved her path. For anyone to catch sight of her at this point they would not look twice. Her coat of grey and light brown, broken by darker tiger stripes would have meant nothing to them, just an ordinary wild feline animal like many others.

Yes, many may think that, but ordinary she was not. A small free cat at present but whenever she willed or was placed in danger, Sevenlives the cat would become Sevenia the Werecat. Her Bastet form of the Werecat had survived for many centuries and with it years of search for her own peace and for justice for the animal kingdom. She searched for a reason for what she now was. Her memories were vast, filled with many battles for good over evil. She longed for peace and to live in the time when her transformation could be fully under her control and she would be free from fear of capture and extinction.

As yet, Sevenia had only partly succeeded in that search. Her accepted shape to be in the form of a cat meant she could move around this world with freedom. The cat almost unchanged for centuries meant it was a timeless animal, seldom hunted and generally regarded as harmless.

On the other paw, her true and sometimes tortured form of a creature of great stealth and strength had powers unknown in any kingdom of cats that neither tiger nor lion could compare—for Sevenia’s power was magical.

A distant cry for help; too intense to ignore, had brought her west. A howl she sensed contained pain and not just for attention. That cry had been silenced for some time for some reason but Sevenlives felt she must be close to the source of the howl.

She stood on a heavy branch limb of an oak tree just clear of the edge of a dense wood. It stood majestic, strong and perfectly shaped, hundreds of years old. She felt comfortable on that perch.

Ahead of her she looked across open pasture. Grass tips glistened on this cold early November night, swaying in the brisk breeze, like a sea of waves lit under a bright moon.

The field ahead dropped away from her oak tree towards a farm fence and beyond, a thin row of evergreens led the way into a broad valley.

She focused on a dim light in the shadows of a cluster of dark buildings. As the wind slightly changed to her direction, Sevenlives raised her head, stretching her neck sniffing the air intensely. Through the smell of vegetation starting to prepare for winter and the fresh burrows of field animals in the night air, she locked onto a scent. A scent her sense had identified many times before; that of an injured animal.

Sevenlives decided she could delay no longer. Yes she knew that her search to locate the source of the howl, if it was the injured animal, must be taken to another level. A level, in her present body form she could not fulfil. The moonlight streaking through the leaf bare oak tree illuminated her transformation to Sevenia to an eerie level, worthy of any nightmare. Her body stretched to two metres in length on the strong tree limb, her rear legs forming to a shape along with the front allowing a human like stance.

She stretched and swung her tail so strong that the immediate wind changed direction, her front paws became hand like, the claws as a tigers and with outstretched arms they became clothed in white silk that also covered the rest of her body form. From the petite head of the cat came a much larger and sinister head with long pointed upright ears, whiskers and a gentle mouth hiding sharp fangs. Through that mouthful of fangs she hissed in the direction of the light at the distant building and listened.

Seconds later her erect ears twitched to the moan of the injured animal responding to a magical hissing sound bringing its brain to life from its semi conscious state.

Sevenia, now sure her search may be over, in the blink of her eyes travelled the few hundred metres towards the light and the mournful response.

Not wishing to be seen by any human at this time she settled behind a large bush within seven metres of a high wire fence forming an enclosed compound.

The scent of the injured animal was strong, the moaning settling to a weary whimper There, below, seen as a black shadow cast by the moonlight on a one metre high brick wall a rope appeared, tight and straight across the dusty ground to a point of anchor of a metal ring bolted to an adjacent building fifteen metres away.

A short distance to the side a man lay on the ground appearing unconscious, but as Sevenia listened sounds of breathing still remained.

Sevenia looked around further, ensuring that her approach to the fence had gone unnoticed. It was close to dawn and a spark of the sun could be seen to the east as it discoloured the night sky with a hint of light blue.

She blinked once more and arrived at the rear of the building. Her vast form transformed with her shadow from the moonlight on the wall shrinking to the reflection of the four legged cat Sevenlives.

Sevenlives turned the corner at the building with the flexibility of a snake and made her way to the rope anchor on the wall. She sensed movement on the rope, looking and listening she followed its line towards the dark shadow.

The man on the ground to her left did not stir but small puffs of exhaled breath could be seen from his open mouth due to the cold morning air. Something else could be seen, a trickle of dried blood ran to his chin and an arm lay in a very awkward position. Around him and below lay bags of fibre insulation which may have kept him warm in addition to his clothing.

Sevenlives continued along the line of the rope and increased her pace as she became aware of what was at the end. The Alsatian dog lay on one side eyes barely opened and breathing slightly. The slip chain around his neck had been gnawing away at him, with fur torn away to the flesh.

Sevenlives paced around the Alsatian identifying two of his wounds—bad wounds, open and still leaking blood. Beside the dog two metres away, a shovel lay on the ground, signs of blood on the edge and flat face of the metal.

She laid a paw on the chest of the Alsatian; he was in a bad condition. The human who could have helped appeared also to be in a bad way.

Night was coming to an end and here in the open she knew she could do little in the daylight. With flash turns of her head Sevenlives looked around and listened. She was convinced they were alone.

To be caught in sunlight in the open could be fateful for her Werecat form but the rage within her over the Alsatian’s wounds convinced Sevenlives her risk was necessary and necessary now. She could only use her magical healing powers on an animal; she could do nothing for the man.

Sevenlives thought, ‘. . . . I need to know why this happened; I need to speak to this dog.’

The sky to the east increased its morning glow but the sun was still down below the mountain peaks when Sevenlives became Werecat within a minute.

Sevenia knelt down on one leg and snapped the Alsatian’s collar chain with two claws. She moved both front hand paws outstretching them over each of the dogs open wounds. A glow of light came from her paws like sunbeams breaking through broken dark clouds. In seconds the open wounds were healed and the flesh and fur returned to its original condition.

Sevenia flicked a claw and a single droplet of light landed on the dogs head. He lifted his head with eyes wide open as if startled. At this, Sevenia moved to the other side of the wall, returning as Sevenlives when the Alsatian rose to his feet.

Meow, are you alright? she said.

I need water, gasped the Alsatian, his tongue displaying dryness as he panted.

Where can I get some for you? asked Sevenlives.

It’s okay, said the dog.

The Alsatian trundled over to where the rope was attached to the wall, below which a bowl of water lay, half empty, but enough.

With his thirst quenched he said, Sorry, I need to think of what has happened. Who are you and where do you come from?

Call me Sevenlives and I heard a repeated howl which brought me to you.

Where is Hector? I’m called Sandy, I belong to him and I am the guard dog here, announced the Alsatian, as his eyes scanned the yard.

With the sun now breaking over the mountain ridge the disturbance to the yard was becoming clearer. Building material lay scattered over the ground nearby and beside the man sheets of paper formed a trail to an open door of the nearest building. The gates out to the road looked broken.

Over there I think! said Sevenlives. Sandy immediately went to Hector’s body and sniffed, licked his face and nudged him with his strong snout. Hector groaned at the attention.

He is in a bad way, is this your master?

Yes. I need to do something for him.

Make that—we need to do something for him. I will help, volunteered Sevenlives.

Thank you, but how can we get in contact with a doctor or something, we couldn’t use the phone, could we?

Have you an alarm in the yard in case there is a fire? asked Sevenlives.

Yes. The last time when there was a fire in the storage shed and Hector pressed the alarm button it brought the local fire truck, the police and an ambulance.

We may not need a fire put out, but we need an ambulance and your police as well. Look!

Sevenlives pointed to the main gate: its padlock and chain snapped in half and the gates were open.

The doors of two buildings; one the large store and one the office appeared to have been broken over and things from inside thrown or dragged outside. Windows were smashed.

Sandy led the way to the office. Inside, just at the door and on the wall they found the alarm. Sandy jumped up two paws either side and just below the break glass of the fire alarm he poked it with his snout but it did not break.

Wait! I have an idea, Sevenlives said and she climbed up the Alsatian’s back. She grabbed the break glass hammer between her jaws and with a huge twist of her body smashed the glass. An intense bell ringing pounded their ears. They left the office and once outside Sandy said, The bell only rings for a little while so all we can do now is to wait and see if anyone comes.

They went back to where Hector lay. Sandy nudged and licked him again. Again Hector groaned and this time moaned, Good boy Sandy. My arm hurts awful, then he went quiet.

He has passed out again, said Sevenlives. What can you remember; what happened?

The Alsatian dog turned around and sat down leaning on Hector. Sevenlives sat beside him.

The Alsatian looked around and went on to tell how the yard and the