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Pussycats Galore
Pussycats Galore
Pussycats Galore
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Pussycats Galore

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Cats.
Fluffy, soft, and cuddly,
Keepers of the amazing purr.
Vicious, deadly killing machines.
That choose to share their lives with us.

Science fiction kitties saving lives. Cat shifters. Vampire kitties. Ghost kitties. Zombie kittes. Even angel kitties. Every shape and size of cats, but each with their incredible catness and dual personalities intact. There's a kitty for everyone here.

Twenty stories celebrating the mystery, magic and mayhem of cats by someone who loves them like you do.

LanguageEnglish
Release dateJul 30, 2019
ISBN9780463117194
Pussycats Galore
Author

Stephanie Barr

Although Stephanie Barr is a slave to three children and a slew of cats, she actually leads a double life as a part time novelist and full time rocket scientist. People everywhere have learned to watch out for fear of becoming part of her stories. Beware! You might be next!

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    Book preview

    Pussycats Galore - Stephanie Barr

    Pussycats Galore

    by Stephanie Barr

    Smashwords Edition

    Copyright 2019 Stephanie Barr

    Discover other titles by Stephanie Barr

    Conjuring Dreams: Learning to Write by Writing

    Tarot Queen

    Beast Within (First of the Bete Novels)

    Nine Lives (Second of the Bete Novels)

    Twice the Man (Third and final Bete Novel)

    Saving Tessa

    Musings of a Nascent Poet

    Curse of the Jenri

    Legacy

    Ideal Insurgent

    The Taming of Dracul Morsus

    Dedicated to Stephanie, Roxy and Alex, always.

    To Mirren Hogan, Chuck Larlham, Audra Trosper, Rob Easton, Ana Marija Meshkova, Kristal Walker, Mary Rowe, and Laura Carty Hewitt, proof that good beta readers are worth their weight in gold. Thanks also to Jen Ponce and Veronica Smith for reviewing my horror stories and giving their approval. And thanks to Cheryl Barr for giving me a sanity check.

    A special thank you to my sister, who works under the name Knixolate Bar, for the illustrations with very little notice and did such a fantastic job. I can almost forgive you for hogging the drawing talent.

    Cover by Stephanie Barr

    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.

    Introduction

    For those of you who have read my work before, there will likely be no surprise that I've decided to devote an entire anthology to cat stories. Cats are a part of all of my novels, without exception, and often in pivotal roles. I'm a bona fide crazy cat person in real life and my writing reflects that.

    How can you not love an animal that is fuzzy, affectionate, warm, just lap size, that purrs, and yet is a deadly killer, a true carnivore? I love cats and I've tried to bring both their healing, loving natures as well as their general badassery to the fore in these stories. I have some big cat shifters, some telepathic cats and some that are not. Every one of these cats, though, is a winner. I love them all.

    Most of my work is speculative with science fiction and fantasy my usual venue. Though not all these stories involve magic or science fiction, there are plenty in here that do. The goal was to showcase cats as companions, as enemies, as charming, as unique and quixotic, and as amazing as these little beasties are. And to remind myself to be grateful that these amazing creatures have agreed to spend their lives with me.

    I hope you enjoy my fictional cats as much as I enjoy my real ones.

    On a similar note, if you love cats, do welcome them into your lives. If you can, save kitties from shelters and rescues that might go homeless otherwise. Spay, neuter, vaccinate your pets. Cats are precious and they all deserve someone who loves them.

    If you can't, donate time or money if you can.

    Table of Contents

    Suitable for Children

    Adventure Kitty

    The Problematic Captain Cuddles

    Kitty

    Mind the Kittens

    Mind the Children

    Sparkles Pancake Saves the World

    Bad Influence

    Angel Kitty

    General Fare

    The Baddest Cat in Town

    A Familiar Tale

    C-Cat Unit

    Shades of the Past

    Scout Madora

    Knight Errant

    Nine Lives Aren't Always Enough

    Worthless

    Nobody's Hero

    The Path We Choose

    The Unkillable Mr. Whiskers

    Not for the Squeamish

    Kismet

    The Cutest Zombie Apocalypse Ever

    About the Illustrator

    About the Author

    Suitable for Children

    In general, I don't write for children as an audience. I write fantasy/science fiction and that often includes romance and violence and technology and stuff. But, when writing a book of cat stories, I know as a parent, it would be nice to have at least a subset of stories suitable to read to children that might be interested. Since at least two of these stories were originally written with specific children in mind, I thought I'd include a section of stories that I think children would find interesting and could identify with.

    I do not, however, think any of these stories are unsuitable for adults. I don't believe in talking down to children or patronizing so these stories should be accessible for adults as well.

    Please note, this does not mean they don't have anything sad in them. One of these stories was written for a child who had lost his kitty to help him deal with its loss. More than one reader has told me it could help other children with loss as well.

    Adventure Kitty

    I originally wrote this story for a little girl—friend of a friend—who was battling meningitis. I had hoped it would reflect her own struggles and yet provide a happy ending, and help cheer her up while she was in the hospital. Adventure Kitty is for Olivia.

    It wasn't her fault, Olivia thought sullenly.

    Technically, those were her Barbies drinking from oversized plastic tea cups. And technically, a tea party on the floor outside the bathroom door wasn't perhaps the best choice. But Mommy had a jigsaw puzzle on the coffee table—and it had been there for weeks—and the kitchen table was taken with Jake's homework. Science project? Why'd he need the whole table?

    As for her room, she would love to play in there but then she'd have to pick up her stuffed animals, and her jumper from last week, and disrupt her pillow fort she'd made yesterday that she still had plans for. Mommy had just vacuumed the hallway so that was the most logical place.

    Maybe the grape Kool-Aid was a bad idea, given the white carpet, but water was so kindergarten. Couldn't she be trusted with real drinks now that she was in second grade? She had tried to clean it up. And Daddy was the one who spilled it when he came out of the bathroom.

    So unfair!

    Mommy and Daddy hadn't seen it her way. So, here she was, grounded to her room for the afternoon. She hid in her cozy pillow fort and contemplated all the reasons it wasn't her fault. And there were so many. After all, if they'd just gotten her a kitten for her birthday like she asked them, she wouldn't be so bored. A cute little gray striped kitty with a white tummy and a bottle brush tail that would fetch cat toys and walk on a leash and have a bell on her pink sparkly collar just like the blue collar Sarah Jetten had on her kitten. But Sarah's kitten was just yellow stripey with no white tummy. Olivia's kitty would be much cuter.

    Somehow, as she was just imagining all the endless activities she could do with her own cutest-kitty-ever if she had one, Olivia must have dozed off.

    When she woke up, she was in a jungle. That didn't faze Olivia. This had happened before. She knew she had a special magic and would go to far-off places no one else knew about. If she just followed her adventure, she'd come back out the other side and then be back in her room.

    Jungles were fun. Maybe there would be a jaguar! Her class had read about jaguars in school the other day. Jaguars were big beautiful cats that were fierce hunters and could even kill a huge snake! Or a crocodile! Perhaps she should have a jaguar as a pet. They were not quite as pretty as the kitten she wanted, but no one would have a better pet.

    She decided to look for one when she realized it was awfully hot. The breeze blew by and she saw little flecks of red-glowing black, like the fireplace in winter. She stepped back a few feet so she could look at a patch of sky above the tall trees. Smoke!

    The jungle was not easy to walk through. There were ferns and plants taller than she was with big spreading leaves. She couldn't find a path and she wasn't entirely sure which direction the fire was coming from. But it was definitely getting hotter. She couldn't stay here!

    She heard screaming, but from far away. No, my baby is in there! I have to go in!

    Was that Mommy? Olivia turned toward the sound.

    This way, she heard to her left. Olivia lifted another huge leaf and saw a dainty cat, pure white with bright blue eyes. This way, the cat repeated.

    As the cat stepped away, Olivia rushed to catch up and, only then, spotted the kitten bouncing alongside the white cat. It was striped black and white with a pretty pink collar that jingled every time the kitten leapt. Olivia was certain, if she picked it up, the kitten would have a white tummy.

    The kitten squeaked and the white cat paused. She's getting tired, she told Olivia. She's only a baby.

    Is she your baby?

    Yes, but I've already carried her so far. Could you help us?

    Olivia didn't hesitate to scoop the kitten into her hands and tuck her under her chin. The kitten was every bit as soft as Olivia had dreamed she'd be. And her feet and tummy were as white as her mother's fur.

    We have to hurry, the mother cat said. The fire is coming.

    Olivia walked as quickly as she could. The ground was covered with leaves and sticker plants and it was hard to move fast. What is your name? Olivia asked as she ducked under a short tree.

    I am Snow. And if only I had my magic, I could put out this fire and we'd be safe, she told Olivia.

    You're magic?

    The cat laughed, leaping lightly over a fallen log. Of course I was, but I'm not anymore. I was an adventure kitty.

    An adventure kitty?

    Yes. Every adventure should have a kitty. I was special, though, because I'm white, so I had all kitty powers. I could control all four elements, wind, earth, fire, and water.

    So, you could control the fire?

    The kitty sighed, a purry kind of sigh. Yes, but when an adventure kitty has kittens she becomes a mama cat and all her magic goes to her kittens.

    Oh. Olivia could remember her Mommy saying something much like that once or twice. But wait, does that mean your kitten has all your power?

    It was definitely getting hotter and, beyond the layers of green, Olivia could see a red glow. She slid between two close-growing trees, trying to catch up with Snow.

    Snow's voice was sad. No, I had four kittens and all the other kittens were given to adventurers who needed adventure kitties. Simon has the power of fire, a ginger tabby, who went off with a boy named Toby. Soot had the power of earth, a slim black beauty, and she is with Joey. Shadow has the power of wind, my gray soft sweetheart, and is protecting Nora.

    She jumped past another set of trees, then stopped. She turned, fear in her eyes.

    It's a dead end!

    Olivia, scratched and sweaty from running and the heat overtaking her, stopped short herself. They were at the edge of a river, which was good, but the ground broke away into a short cliff and the water below surged and swirled, white and angry. No way she could jump.

    If only I hadn't lost my powers, I would never have led you to the wrong spot, Snow said. But there's still a chance, if you can convince my last kitten to help you.

    Olivia looked at the kitten, curled up and asleep in her cupped hands. How can I do that?

    Her powers will only awaken if you give her a name and sing to wake her up, asking her to save you!

    Olivia sat, cross-legged, on the ground, the kitten still cradled in her hands. What is her power?

    Water.

    Olivia looked at the kitty, glanced at the blackening trees where she had been but moments before, the red glow, the hungry flames. The sky was filled with smoke, black and harsh on her throat. It was as if night had descended with no stars or moon. Then, she turned back to the kitten. You look like the frost on my window when Christmas is coming. I'm going to name you, 'Frost.' Wake up, Frost, and save us!

    There were thumps and crackles, small crashes as trees were consumed by the fire.

    You have to sing, Snow said, brushing her body against Olivia's side.

    Olivia was used to making up her own songs and, as if she always knew it, she sang:

    "I am here, little kitty

    Trapped by the fire.

    My adventure is burning

    And turning dire!

    Use your power

    And make it rain

    Quench the fire and

    Stop the pain."

    Louder! She has to hear you! Snow sounded desperate but Olivia didn't want to look. She wanted to stay safe as if she were still tucked in her pillow fort. But she sang again.

    "I am here, little kitty

    Trapped by the fire.

    My adventure is burning

    And turning dire!

    Use your power

    And make it rain

    Quench the fire and

    Stop the pain."

    Frost opened her eyes.

    The eyes were still cloudy blue before the slit pupils spread and filled the entire eye with black. In the distance, Olivia heard a loud crash. Was that thunder?

    More sounds, a loud hiss. Rain? It must be because it was cooling around her.

    The darkness that had covered her broke open and a beam of light found her.

    She's here! I found her, a smudged man with a lighted helmet and a bright yellow coat called out as she blinked up at him. Finish putting out that blanket, he told another man with a fire extinguisher. Get it cool and I'll wrap her in it.

    Olivia was back in her room, but the room, like the jungle she had just escaped, was blackened and hot, while angry flames were destroying her Hello Kitty™ curtains.

    The man in the yellow jacket hoisted her up, wrapping her in her own coverlet. Let's get her out of here before the whole place goes!

    Olivia couldn't see much with the smoke. They had a mask on her and she tucked Frost to her chin so she wouldn't breathe the smoke either. The hall carpet with the purple stains was covered with char marks and black footprints as flames ate at the bathroom door where once she'd played.

    She was carried through her own house transformed into a nightmare by fire and soot and smoke, but the front door was open. Outside, it was daylight.

    Olivia! Olivia! Oh, my baby! You have my baby! Mommy looked so upset, angrier than Olivia had ever seen her, her face red and contorted, tears running her makeup down her face. Daddy had his arms around her, his own face buried in Mommy's hair, his other arm around Jake. Daddy was sobbing. Even Jake was crying.

    Firemen stood between Olivia and her parents, not letting Mommy through, but the fireman that carried her took her past the line of firemen. Mommy snatched her up from him. Oh, baby are you alright? Olivia found herself squeezed so tightly in Mommy's arms it hurt, but she was still glad to be there. Olivia found tears in her own eyes, though she wasn't sure why.

    I'm sorry, Mommy, she said. Was Mommy angry at her?

    No, baby, it wasn't your fault. It's not your fault! I wanted to go back when I saw you hadn't left, but they wouldn't let me. Baby, are you alright?

    Olivia nodded, her throat suddenly scratchy and choked with fear as if she felt her mother's pain.

    I want to put her on oxygen. She seems okay, but I don't want to take chances, the firemen who had rescued her said. She should go to the hospital to be sure. A clear mask was slipped over Olivia's face and she found herself breathing a little easier.

    The kitten! she said, remembering. Help the kitten, too.

    Mommy looked at the damp, matted bundle still cupped carefully in Olivia's hands. Where did you get that? Is it a kitten? Is it alive?

    The kitten squeaked. The fireman found another mask and tucked it over the whole head of the kitten. I think they'll both be okay.

    Frost saved me, Olivia said, finding it funny how her voice changed going through the mask.

    But where did you get her? Mommy asked.

    She's my adventure kitty! Olivia said as they peeled her away from her mother and sat her on a gurney.

    You can't take the cat, I'm sorry, the doctor said.

    Mommy, you and the fireman have to save her.

    Mommy nodded to Daddy since she was climbing into the front of the ambulance. Daddy nodded back, wiped his eyes. I'll save her, Olivia. You get better, too, okay?

    The last thing Olivia saw before they drove her away was Frost, cupped in both the fireman and her father's hands, a mask on its tiny face and a sparkly pink collar on its tiny neck.

    And that was how Frost came into Olivia's life to lead her on adventures for the next fifteen years.

    But, none of them were quite as scary as that first one.

    The Problematic Captain Cuddles

    From a prompt from my FB fan group (Cats and Dragons), where they wanted a cat army so I would have to find a way to herd cats. Challenge accepted. And thus came Captain Cuddles into being.

    There was a discreet scratch at the door. Colonel Simon carefully placed the ring from a plastic bottle lid on his desk. It was orange and very enticing. Enter, said Colonel Simon, smothering a sigh. Discipline was a necessary part of any army, but it was never something he enjoyed.

    The door opened to allow a perfectly groomed soldier to enter. His nails were trimmed so that there was no sound. His whiskers were long and luxuriant but straight and perfectly spaced. His eyes were large, pale green and glimmered with a subtle sheen also seen in his gray fur. He marched in and then sat in perfect attention after saluting with his tail. You sent for me, Colonel?

    Close the door, Captain Cuddles.

    Cuddles did so and then returned to his stance, but his face looked anxious. Have I done something wrong, sir?

    Captain, you had one of the best scores of all time during officer training, but I've been concerned with your performance on the field.

    Is this about the Battle of Carpet Hill?

    "It is and I'm surprised you seem surprised you'd be called into my office. We are an elite fighting unit, one of the best in the business. We did not get that way by sending in officers who have to be rescued from certain death by those under their command."

    No, sir. Of course not, sir. But I'm confused. I was the only one who had not broken formation.

    On the contrary, soldier, your men had to break formation to rescue you, putting them at considerable risk.

    Oh. Captain Cuddles, staring elsewhere in apparent unconcern, a sure sign he was deeply regretful. But, sir, were we not ordered to take that hill?

    We were and, despite your misstep, we were able to do so.

    All I did was advance forward to their fortifications as ordered.

    In a straight line! the Colonel hissed. You would have been torn apart by their guns if your men had not taken initiative and pulled you out of the line of fire.

    Was—was there something else I should have done? Captain Cuddles asked, perplexed.

    Colonel Simon twitched his white whiskers, dramatic on his black face despite his white throat, and coughed, a little at first and then with a pronounced hack. Captain Cuddles moved the trash can out of the way so Colonel Simon would have a clear shot to the carpet, but the Colonel managed not to produce a hairball. Where was I? Captain, do you know why we release cat toys with various amounts of catnip in them?

    No, sir. It seemed counterproductive since my men, in fact, all of our soldiers, ran after the toys in nearly every conceivable direction.

    Exactly!

    I don't understand.

    By having our own soldiers going in every conceivable direction, they become impossible to predict. But, when some cat inexplicably ignores the toys and heads in a direct line, taking them out is child's play. Perhaps you need to go back for more training.

    Captain Cuddles slit his eyes. At training they required us to run in straight lines, climb mountains, go through obstacles.

    Yes, and they badger, pester, and cajole you to do so, using toys, feather wands, whatever it takes to induce you to conquer any obstacle.

    Captain Cuddles lifted his chin. They did not have to badger or cajole me.

    Colonel Simon leapt atop his desk and began to pace. I begin to see what the problem might be. You did what you were told with nothing more than a verbal command? Every time? Without distractions and rewards? What do you think you are?

    A soldier, sir.

    "Not a feline soldier, Cuddles. Maybe I should have you transferred to a K-9 unit."

    Sir! Cuddles yowled, bristling.

    Stand down, soldier, the colonel said. "When you brag about blind and unquestioning obedience, you are repeating the philosophy of the dogs. Nothing wrong with that, inherently. There are situations when doing what you're told without question is a boon and we use those units for that very reason. It's their schtick. But, even among the K-9 corps, the ones that filter to the top are those that can think independently, read the situation, adapt. In the feline elite corps, that's our schtick. It's what we do down to the lowest private. Did they teach you about Battle Peter Rabbit in training?"

    Cuddles, ears bent back in pouting shame, said, Of—of course.

    Do you remember how we won that battle against a very cat-savvy opponent?

    Yes. The enemy had littered the field with cucumbers, sir, expecting to send our entire force running in terror. He paused a heartbeat. I passed cucumber training and pushed myself so that I could even sleep on cucumbers without effect.

    Of course, you did. But that means you missed the point of cucumber training. Colonel Simon decided to give Cuddles an opportunity to think things through so he began washing his hind leg, letting only the twitch of his tail remind Cuddles that he was still in censure.

    Sir?

    What happened in the battle?

    "While our troops were spooked by the cucumbers, instead of retreating, they leapt in every direction, making their attacks on the enemy impossible to predict. Although the enemy had the superiority in numbers, they effectively enabled their soldiers to be individually flanked by jumping cats and lost the battle decidedly, confused and disheartened."

    What would have happened if, instead of leaping in every direction, they had just advanced like you did.

    Cuddles began to wash his face. The enemy had set down a line of mines in front of them. Our jumping in the way we did sidestepped those mines and even drove a few of their soldiers into the mines, making us aware of their existence.

    Satisfied that Cuddles understood his mistake, Simon stopped washing his leg and collapsed into zen pose on his desk. Do you understand what I want from you, Cuddles? I want the discipline and physical skills you built in training, but I want you to think and act like a cat, able to adapt and be unpredictable. Do you think you can do it, or should I prepare a transfer?

    Sir, yes sir, I can.

    Good. Dismissed.

    Captain Cuddles turned to leave but, before he had completely left, the Colonel called out to him. Next time I leave an enticement like this ring on my desk, I'd like to see you try for it.

    Cuddles said nothing but left, the door still open as Simon, as he'd been longing to throughout the interview, batted the ring off his desk and began chasing it around the room.

    ***

    Captain Cuddles crept out of HQ, tail and head down. With a furtive glance to either side, he would have scurried to his quarters if another voice hadn't spoken up behind him. Captain?

    Cuddles leapt into the air, spinning as he did and then lowered his hackles when he recognized his own second in command, Sergeant Patch. Patch, I didn't see you there.

    Got grilled for not being cat enough, didn't you?

    How did you know? but Cuddles knew the answer to that. The reason he lived through the Battle of Carpet Hill was because Patch had rallied Cuddles' men to save him when his own actions had put his life in danger. If Cuddles was half the leader he wanted to be, he'd have made a point to tell Colonel Simon about Patch's extraordinary initiative. But he didn't want to lose Patch. He was an exceptional leader and his next promotion would definitely get him moved to someone more important.

    Tain't blind, Patch said, with a gasping laugh. He loved blind jokes given that he only had one eye left. Whatcha gonna do?

    I—I have to teach myself to get distracted. Somehow.

    Happen I could help you with that.

    Would—would you?

    Patch opened his mouth in a sharp-toothed smile. You're a good kid, good bottom. And you're my CO. His smile disappeared and he let a little growl creep into his voice, but not enough to skirt insubordination. And I can't have you puttin' the whole unit at risk because you're too green to be on the field.

    He turned his back and lifted his tail jauntily, despite the crook at the end of it. Let's get to work.

    Cuddles, feeling less like a commander than ever, followed him to a practice field. Several feet in, there was a ball, bright green with a bell in it. Patch sat and indicated the ball with a paw. So, bat that over to me. He paused. Sir.

    That didn't sound too hard. What was the catch? Cuddles loped over and, without looking at Patch, knocked it over toward him. Patch batted it away into the distance, a look of disgust on his face. Have you no instincts, sir?

    Cuddles was legitimately baffled. Why did you do that? Didn't you want me to do that?

    "Sir. What kind of self-respecting cat deliberately bats his own toy to another cat? I'm the last place in this field you should have batted it to. And, even if you overcame your inclination, you should have at least been reluctant, resisted the urge to keep it yourself. Do you have no feeling for the ball? Did you hear the bell when it when it rolled? Didn't you have the urge to chase it?"

    Was I supposed to? Cuddles asked, abashed.

    How were you raised?

    Well, my mother died just outside a German Shepherd rescue. They took me in anyway, but I was the only cat. My siblings never made it.

    So, we'll have to start from the beginning. Go fetch that ball and, for Bastet's sake, don't just hand it back over to me.

    Yes. Cuddles retrieved it and then, at Patch's instruction, played with it for three hours straight. Periodically, Patch would ask for him to bat it his direction and several times he fell for it and was punished by having to retrieve it from the far reaches of the field. But, by the time Patch called it quits, Cuddles was becoming adept at resisting the requests. He didn't feel particularly possessive of the ball, but he did find himself enjoying the exercise now and again.

    Sides heaving, Cuddles held the ball under his paw as Patch approached. Do you get it? Patch asked. Do you understand the appeal of the ball?

    Well, Cuddles said after a moment's reflection. It does have a pleasant jingle.

    Patch sighed. Well, that will have to do for now.

    ***

    Whatever other criticisms one might have for Captain Cuddles, he could not be faulted for dedication. Every free hour, he was out there, playing with one toy or another. Sometimes, he took a subordinate to challenge him. Sometimes, even into the late hours of the morning, he'd bat this or that toy around by himself.

    When Patch realized he was losing himself in the play, losing track of time, even forgetting why he was doing it in the first place, Patch nodded sagely and sent a memo to Simon. Good thing. The Lepus were on the move and scuttlebutt said the Crazy Cats were going to be called in for a raid. Cuddles was as ready as Patch could make him, as ready as Cuddles could make himself. And the orders were clear. If Cuddles put himself in the line of fire again, no one was to save him. He'd have to save himself.

    Pity. Cuddles gave great tongue.

    At 0430 they were mustered, Captain Cuddles

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