Bibliophile and Barbara E., you’re the winners. Please send your snailmail address to my cat, elailah AT yahoo DOT com, and congrats.
In celebration of receiving my author copies of BESPELLING JANE AUSTEN, I’m giving away two copies, here, today! I’ll pick winners at midnight EST (groan, I’m sure I’ll still be up) and post them at the top of this post, so check back in.
To enter, tell me what sort of Regency character your pet would be.
This is by way of a build up to a terrific event this Sunday, September 19, when Liz Carlyle visits here on her charity blogtour, not only giving away a signed copy of her latest ONE TOUCH OF SCANDAL, but HarperCollins has generously offered to donate up to $3,000 ($1 per person per post on the entire blogtour) to Liz’s favorite cat rescue charity, Cat Angels. Wow!
This is her usual unpleasant expression, as she expresses concern that the landing really does need to be painted (I put undercoat on about ten years ago. You don’t want to rush these things). She was a stray who, as soon as she realized she was getting three squares a day, ignored us for the next eight years or so except when she was hungry.
You think she looks cuddly? Ha.
But she almost died a few years ago and suddenly got friendlier, realizing that possibly I had something to do with her recovery.
As she ages she is getting slightly friendlier and although not a big sitter on laps (or a “real cat” in my terminology) likes to cuddle up next to you. Every morning she wakes me by affectionately digging her claws into my face and then accompanies me to the bathroom where she gnaws on my shins while I tell her to stop it. When I put food in her dish, which I gather is the whole point of the claws, biting etc. she walks away and sits staring into space.
If you stroke her in the wrong way, absentmindedly, or too much, she bites. Sometimes she just bites for the hell of it. She is absolutely terrified of everyone except me, my husband, my daughter, and inexplicably one of my daughter’s friends a few years ago, who was photographed holding her. (He was also wearing my daughter’s prom dress. It was a strange evening, I guess.)
I think she’d make a good old-style virginal Regency heroine who lives in a gothic mansion. One of those shy ones who then gets mad and throws things. Yep, timid but morphing into a feisty, passionate one with fish breath.
What sort of Regency character would your pet be?