Take A Peek

BookSynopsis

His name is Cathorian. He is known as Cat-1. He is the first cat of the Family Felidae to have acquired the skill of telepathy. Having inherited the same skills, his offspring learn during their nine lives, to communicate with their human companions. The story of The Onecat begins, revealing a new stage in the evolutionary development of the Family Felidae with humanity.

During his nine lives, Cathorian experiences a spectrum of emotion with the human companions with whom he shares each life. Divorce, betrayal, death, illness, and tragedy are many experiences that are conquered spiritually through love, compassion and understanding. Cathorian pads his way through this heart-warming, cat and human tale, of humour, romance, suspense, mystery, and the supernatural.

Character In Book

The main character, through which the author fictitiously divulges her out-look on life, is Sue. Sue is the first, the most important, and the primary character, which genuinely experiences the human spectrum of emotion. Struggling through illness – M.E, Myalgic Encephalomyelitis -, betrayal, divorce, abuse and grief, the character is a role model who overcomes many tragic events, through which she learns to become strong to change the course of her life in a positive light. The reader can relate to this character in real life, and can be inspired to overcome adversity and change their life in similar ways.

Jennifer’s Bio

Born in London, Islington, Jennifer Koch-Buccheri discovered her passion for writing at a young age, seeking refuge from life in the stories she wrote.

At the age of twenty, and trapped in an abusive marriage, JKB came to live in a quiet town by the sea where she started to study psychology, and psychotherapy. During these years, a love for cats developed, and gave her the confidence which she needed to get through a bitter divorce.

JKB’s desire to start writing again, brought her the opportunity to travel, meet new people, and explore further aspects in psychology. During this stage, a synchronised course of events led JKB into the arms of her present, French husband, Jean philippe-Koch-Buccheri.

Happily married, they shared their love for cats, and were soon owned by two Siamese, Cleo, and Cyrano. Sadly, JKB fell seriously ill. Having been diagnosed with M.E, – myalgic encephalomyelitis – she began the slow process, learning to live within the limitations of this disabling condition.

To this day, JKB is still suffering with M.E, but with the love of her husband, and cats, continues to explore the feline character. The Onecat is a fictionalised account of her experiences, and a vision, in which cats/animals and humans share a telepathic relationship in the future.

Take A Sneak Peek

THE END?

CAT-1

I was determined to fight them, to keep my world in view, but the sting to my paw was far too powerful. Memories of my mother and father, brother and sister, spun away as I gave in to the overwhelming drowsiness that took me into a comfortable oblivion of spiraling motion.

What happened?

Was this the end?

I’d died? Yes, I’m dead. And realising that I had died made the state of death absolutely disturbing because there was no escape from always knowing that you are going to be dead for all eternity. It was a nightmare from which I’d never be able to awaken. I was trapped in my own private hell and no one would ever know or be able to help me. My death trip continued, repeating itself over, and over again, until I was finally saved. I’d been brought back to life. My foggy drowsiness returned, as did my confused senses.

My head felt sore, tight, and yet I became aware of myself thinking. Sharp pains inside my brain jarred my dormant neurons into an expansion of absolute consciousness: – I think, therefore I am -. My eyes were blurry from a sleep I couldn’t remember having. My ears buzzed like a beehive and yet I could hear, and understand every spoken word around me. And – I – the thinker, entangled in self-thought could penetrate into the private thoughts of my human captors; and into a collective consciousness far beyond my feline awareness. I was Cat-1 – alive in a tired body longing for stillness: and then my mind became alert to an inner-voice other than mine which I seemed to be naturally hosting.

CHAPTER TWO

A STRAY

I struggled to open my eyes. They were clogged with sticky mucus and were watering; I was unable to focus on anything clearly any more. The cosy barn, with which I was all too familiar, was no more than a bright blur in the light of the rising sun. I also struggled to lift my head. It throbbed as though a mass of zombie mice were gnawing vengefully through my skull, determinedly to feast on my brain. With all the mucus streaming from my sore nose, it felt as though my brain was being eaten alive. I could no longer savour the sweet smell from the cows that were being milked, neither was I in a fit state to steal any milk – as I had been doing for some eight years. I’d caught the flu! All the strays I had known on the farm, if not killed by other means, had died of the flu, now it was my turn to die of the flu and in loneliness too. The domesticated queens, pampered as they were in their fancy life and protected against such fatal illnesses, teased us during the mating season like we were a colony of sabre- toothed tigers. If only they knew! Still, it had been my choice to live as a stray and now I must die like one: ‘to live and die by the claw,’ had been our motto. The straw that was hosting me absorbed the midday heat, but I remained as cold as ice. Hours were all I had left, along with a collection of memories of my life as a stray.

And then I was spotted.

The farmer, Mr Despiser, who I routinely outwitted during his rounds gathering bales of hay for the horses, had stumbled upon me. I had been too weak to flee; I yowled on the spot. He was notorious for his hatred of cats, especially of the feral kind – as I happened to be. He hated what he considered to be the dishonest life that we led. He hated the smell of our territory marking, especially since it was his territory – a territory that we made him feel he had no control over. He hated us for being smarter than him, and he really hated it when we hunted his livestock. I remembered the assortment of traps he had set, the times of frustration when he’d waited for us with his gun. We were all too clever; we ate the rats that got caught in his traps, leaving only the mutilated remains for show. We would go to the fields where he would be waiting in anticipation to shoot us. It was all too easy, and we relished our antics: in fact, we could have been made welcome to catch mice on other local farms, only we stayed put because Mr. Despiser was a great challenge for us. He had never caught any of us and never would!

Caught by Mr. Despiser and cat-handed, I was to be doomed before my time. With a sharp knife in his hand, for cutting the string on the bales of hay, and a look of surprise on his roughly-lined face, he towered over me. He was ready to claim back his territory by any means necessary. A swift, cold-blooded eviction from my time in the barn awaited me…….