WHERE WOLVES TALK
by D.L. Lewis
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Kitten, an American tabby residing in England, is a frustrated cat. He knows his place in the world: he was born to kill. Killing, after all, is what felines are supposed to do. Confined within his Lady's house, however, the young fellow is deprived of the opportunity to hunt live prey. The mansion is a sterile playground for a predator; offering nothing more than furniture which allows itself to be brutalized far too easily. The ambitious cat is bored and hungry for a challenge.
Kitten learns of a passage hidden in his Lady's library: the Door, which leads to an unknown world. The cat has been told that the source of all evil dwells openly in this place. The feline is eager to fight the sinister personage and goes through the Door with no hesitation.
The tabby finds himself in what appears to be a forest like any other in England. It doesn't take long for him to learn that this is a very different place.
Written in the basic style of classic stories like THE LORD OF THE RINGS, WATERSHIP DOWN, and THE CHRONICLES OF NARNIA, this novel can be appreciated on different levels. To some readers, it's an allegorical tale: thought-provoking and filled with symbolism. To others, it's an adventure-filled page-turner.
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Twilight was too short in this world; expressing itself in a brief moment of pale-purple light that came and went in a tantalizing flash. As the lavender glow vanished, darkest night swallowed the forest in a voracious bite; making it cry out in noises far colder than those of the warm pleasant morn: sounds dreadfully opposite to the birdsong and happy chatter that filled the wood earlier in the day. The force expressing itself now was redolent of hunger, fear, and longing: growls and whimpers punctuated by the staccato of scrabbling feet; whinings and whirrings that bespoke pursuit and flight; shrill screams articulating the futile desperation that comes before a violent end.
The fur along Kitten’s spine rose. Such terrors were foreign to a beloved house pet. In this wild, hungry place each and every bush could conceal a lurking predatory animal; a lion, perhaps, who would think nothing of making the cat into its evening meal. In his Lady’s house, the tabby had been king of beasts; the only beast, if truth be told, aside from an occasional mouse who might cross his path and flee at the sight of the tiny tiger. Excepting his Lady’s water atomizer, Kitten had found nothing to fear in his house. But this place: this wild, hungry place where a Shorthair counted as no more than a tasty dish; this wild, hungry place where rustlings and crunches seemed not mere noises but harbingers of impending death—this wild, hungry place was dreadful.
AUTHOR Bio and Links:
D. L. Lewis lives in northern California with a cello, four cats, and a crow named Harold. Where Wolves Talk is her first published novel; followed by Something in the House—California Gothic, Doppelgänger, and Fighting Back.
Author Blog: http://dllewisauthor.blogspot.com
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