I, Effing Feline, am hissed off.
For this week’s Eight Sentence Sunday, I wanted to continue with another excerpt from Escapee, an SF romance that Mr. Valentine (aka Edward Hoornaert) recently sold and which will be released early next year. I was just about to introduce the story’s heroic kitten, and I had a big speech prepared.
But no, Mr. V says I can’t do it! Insensitive meanie! He says he has a book coming out later this month that he wants me to promote, Alien Contact for Kid Sisters. The hero, Quinn Lebatarde, is a small-time scam artist who does NOT own a cat. With no cats in this story, who cares?
Quinn stuck out his tongue at the policewoman and then, before she could demand his nonexistent business license, he upended the table, shattering priceless, phony carvings, knocking Squitt on her ass, and sending the twenty-dollar bills he held fluttering toward the ground. Quinn plucked the bills out of midair, kissed them, and ran.
Only a few steps, though. His escape hatch—he always had an escape hatch when pulling a scam—lay in the opposite direction, beyond where Squitt struggled underneath the table. Instead of escaping right away, though, he bent down to grab a mask and a totem pole that hadn’t broken. He shoved them in the White Sox fan’s arms and ruffled the boy’s hair.
“A gift, kid, from my world to yours.”
The delay gave Squitt almost enough time to lift the table off her, but Quinn shoved it back down and stomped across it, drawing satisfying oofs from the gendarme.
Boring without a cat, don’t you agree? But go ahead and check out the other posts for today’s Eight Sentence Sunday. Maybe they write about cats.
[Ed Hoornaert here; Effing refused to write anything more, so it’s up to me to tell you that Alien Contact for Kid Sisters is a sequel to Alien Contact for Idiots. It stands alone, though, so you don’t need to have read the first book. Kid Sisters is available for pre-order on Amazon.]