Cat Fancy

By A.E. Hodge

At the end of their first date, shy student Sandy goes back to Victor's apartment, already head over heels. Victor, a suave genetic engineer, is perfect in almost every way. The only problem: Sandy is terrified of cats, and Victor is obsessed with them. Worse still, his demented house cat Melody seems hell-bent on keeping Sandy away by any means necessary. But Sandy is too desperate to let fear overpower her, even as Victor's strange love for cats forces her further out of her comfort zone. She'll do anything to make things work with him--even if it costs her very humanity...

• Language: English
• Publisher: Fiction Fugitive Select
• Release date: Feb 26, 2015
• ISBN: 9781507041451

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Cat Fancy

By A.E. Hodge

A Fiction Fugitive Select Publication

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Cat Fancy

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Cat Fancy

Sitting beside him on the couch, Sandy decided that Victor was the cutest guy she’d ever dated.

He was tall, fair-skinned, and lean, with a sexy Scandinavian accent. He wore a neat button-down shirt over khakis and a pair of unpretentious loafers. At thirty-six, he was older than Sandy by a decade, but she didn’t mind. His age, light beard, and glasses made him look like a college professor or something. She wouldn’t have thought she’d like that as much as she did, but she supposed she had a thing for authority.

Did you have fun at dinner, Sandy?

Smiling, Victor put his arm on the backrest behind her. Sandy smiled back, hoping she didn’t seem too nervous. It had been a long time since her last first date. She’d spent hours preparing for this one, curling her strawberry blonde hair, picking just the right black dress, just the right casual heels, just the right eyeliner to make her green eyes pop.

Yeah, it was great. I love seafood. Thanks again. She searched the room for something else to say. I like your apartment.

In truth, the apartment was ordinary, and little different from her own, up town. The decor was a little Spartan for her tastes, but at least everything looked neat and clean. Afghan and Persian rugs covered the hardwood floor in the living room. In the corner, across from the sofa where she and Victor sat, a tidy gas-fire flickered merrily behind glass. Decorative tongs and fire pokers surrounded the hearth. There was no TV. Victor said he didn’t watch it.

Would you like something to drink? Victor offered. Beer or something?

Sandy had already drunk more at dinner than she’d intended, but she was caught up in the moment. She nodded yes, the smile frozen almost painfully to her face.

Victor rose, describing the beer choices while he ambled to the kitchen. Words like imported lager and brown ale were transformed into magic spells by his foreign accent. Where was he from, again? Finland? Sweden? She knew he’d mentioned it on his FriskySingles.com profile, but now she couldn’t remember, and was too embarrassed to ask.

Oh, I don’t care, she said. You pick!

At that moment, a shadow appeared in Victor’s hallway, coming from the back of the apartment. It stalked toward the living room with such silence and stealth