A FREE AUDIO BOOK IS NOT SPORTSTER'S SECRET

 

 

Exercising regularly has always been on a cat’s priority list. We don’t live out our nine lives because all we do is sleep. We always receive bad press concerning our lifestyle.

 Even Judy plays that card. She wants everyone to think she is the only one who works like the hummingbirds outside our office window, flitting around doing, seminars, book signings, and research, or when she’s home, writing, editing, critiquing, and blogging, messaging, and twittering.

I don't want to steal her thunder. She has even sworn me to secrecy. She gave me these adorable pics to post as a cover for what I am actually working on. Again, the sleeping, lazy theme. Really?

I mean REALLY?

Okay, Judy did insist I post these head shots. . She is promoting her audio books, COAST TO COAST WITH A CAT AND A GHOST and GOING HOME WITH A CAT AND A GHOST.
My point about exercising? About living nine lives? When you work on the treadmill or take a long hike, listen to audio books. Be entertained while you lengthen your life.

 

This week we are giving away a FREE AUDIO BOOK of GOING HOME WITH A CAT AND A GHOST. All you need to do is enter the drawing by  typing your name in the comment box. Next Thursday  I will personally, and randomly, select a name and announce the lucky winner.  The following week we will repeat the drawing for  A FREE AUDIO BOOK of COAST TO COAST WITH A CAT AND A GHOST. So don’t forget. Type  your name in the comment box.. After the drawing we will only use your information to line my litter box.

So there you have it, the reason for this post.

 

 

BUT WAIT!

Judy’s in the living room watching her favorite show, Blacklist.

Do you want to read the first chapter of my novel!

 

THAT’S RIGHT!  MY, MY, MY NOVEL!

But you’ve got to keep the secret under your collar.  Judy hasn’t decided on an appropriate title yet, but I’m calling My novel….Get ready for it…

 

Get Ready For It!!

 

 

 

 

SPORTSTER’S ADVENTURES!!

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( Drum roll )


















SPORTSTER’S ADVENTURES

BY

JUDY HOWARD

 

Sportster, The Awesome Cat

 

CHAPTER ONE

 

 

My eyes sprang open.  Judy’s frightened scream joined the protesting motor home and my body pressed against the windshield. Tires screeched mixing with the squeal of metal and squalling fiberglass. Our house lurched off the road, airborne, like the birds I envied. My body flattened hard against the windshield, which had kept me insulated from the outside world. Jagged lines crawled and crunched across the once unobstructed view while branches, rocks and dirt pounded the varicose pattern until it gave way. Encased inside, we sailed, as if we would meet the heavens. For a moment, we soared. Silence overtook, giving a false sense of sublime safety, only to be broken by a crashing jolt. The vehicle squashed onto the ground and the tires exploded. . My body, forced from its cozy cocoon as an egg from its shell, flew through green scented air, not like small birds on the wing, but rather like the hawk on a deadly dive to earth for prey. 

 

In its flight, my body puffed to twice its size as the wind swept through every follicle of hair that now stood on end. I sailed on, penetrating the forest’s first line of pines.  I landed solid. The force trumpeted a warrior’s call from inside my lungs – a last-stand challenge, which chased the boiling fear swelling within my chest. The bold roar, defying the wild, went unheard, absorbed like a pillow to my face, smothered by the only sound the rain forest allowed – silence.

Moments before I had been stretched out on my usual spot across the motorhome’s dash.  The engine purred as Judy, my companion who attended to my every need, drove. “It’s time to say goodbye to the Rain Forest, Sportster. We’re heading home.” Like the motor I, too, purred as the lush green landscape sped by. If cats were of the inclination to make lists, the campground we had left would have made number one for me. During our stay I had prowled beneath the ferns on pine-needled carpet, which felt as soft as a cat’s paw. Strange scents had stimulated my active imagination, and I dreamed of roaming as my ancestors had. Wasn’t that how I was born to live? I’ll admit, my home on wheels had a deep luxurious rug and my own tiger-striped, cushy bed, but the wild is what I had always yearned for as we drove away, only moments before, on to our next destination.

 I continued to crouch where I landed and gathered my senses.  Peering through the trees, I watched the vehicles’ wheels spin in the air .and vapor hiss from the hood. An occasional ping mixed with the quiet. Judy was nowhere in sight.

 

 

 

How many hours passed before I stood on all four shaky legs? In my lifetime I have not been inclined to track time. My eyes, large and round, scanned the area, my tail twitched, and I squeaked out a small meow, but hoped the forest muffled my cry as it had my warrior’s shout... This was no time to play the kitten’s role.

 Nothing had changed in the forest. The ferns draped as they had yesterday and the trees remained warm, wrapped in their cloaks of moss.  I examined every hovering shadow under each frond and every blade of grass glistening with sunlight.  Nothing had changed, and yet, I sensed nothing would ever be the same. Wary of the deceiving quiet, I dared a step, then another, my plan - to seek reassurance from Judy.

Sirens, faint in the distance, gave me pause. I moved deeper into the forest as they grew louder, until their shrieks pulsed in my ears. Outside, on the road, flashing lights pierced into the pines and glared upon the maple leaves, discoloring their golden colors. Slamming doors and strangers’ shouts sent me shrinking into a fallen log’s dark recess.

I waited. The noise abated. The sirens squealed again, then drifted down the highway. Once more, the rain forest became quiet except for the occasional swish of a vehicle on the road. I waited to be sure. The sun moved across the sky and passed up my naptime. Still I waited. Invisible under the log, I studied the birds who still chirped their warnings as the sirens faded away   I began to absorb the scents and sounds of my surroundings, examining and evaluating.  Invisible under the log.  A large Elk tip-toed by so close I tucked my tail under my trembling body, his odor so strong, my eyes watered.

Shadows crept across the forest floor, stopping the invasion of sunlight into the thick foliage. The maples turned grey and the green pines melted to black. Darkness overcame the forest bringing with it an increasing stillness.  The moths and insects I had enjoyed chasing yesterday at the campsite now flitted and danced in the fading light, taunting me, as if they knew I did not belong.

The shelter of darkness instilled in me a fragment of courage, enough for me to venture out from hiding. With each cautious step I paused, always listening, always sniffing, aware for the first time in my eight years that my eyesight was sharpest at night.  I peered out from the forest’s edge.

There in the grass lay Judy’s sweatshirt. The one I loved to curl up on when she left it on her bed. She would find me there, push her face into my fur, and make sputtering noises that tickled my tummy. Of course I jumped up and walked away so she would not grow accustomed to my bewitching charm.  The memory caused my heart to flutter, and I scanned the expanse between the forest and the road. I whimpered.  What had become of Judy?  I expanded my search mission, my courage diminishing with each step. Desperation pushed me into the clearing. My overturned water and food dishes rested on a clump of grass, kibble sprinkled the area. My stomach growled, reminding me of its presence, and I realized I was ravenous with hunger. I crunched down a few kernels as I investigated the scene. My bothersome rhinestone collar hung on a nearby bush. Like glitter on a Christmas tree, the garnets caught the moonlight and the gold ID tag glowed. The scents of strangers rose from the motorhome’s deep gashes in the damp earth.  And Judy’s! I circled the area again, but the trail went nowhere. I circled one last time. Perhaps I had been careless. I reexamined pieces of the motorhome scattered here and there, glass from the headlight, a towel and a map - scraps from our life.

When the moon moved to the top of the sky, I collapsed on Judy’s soft sweatshirt and waited. My eyes drooped, but I struggled remaining vigilant until daylight threatened to reveal my position. I then I made one more sweep and slipped back into the woods.   I would wait.

                                                        ***********

 

 

While you are waiting for my book,

                              Don't Forget.

                                                                

                                               MASADA'S MARINE ON AMAZON

 

EVERY HOUR A VETERAN COMMITS SUICIDE.