Velzara has razed cities, outlasted gods, and earned a name spoken in the trembling dialects of the damned. Now she is stuck in the body of a housecat - infernal majesty with an unfortunate weakness for sunbeams.

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The witch who took her in thinks she adopted a stray.

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Elira Thorne inherited an old house full of locked doors, humming wards, and her late grandmother's half-finished notes. She wanted a familiar. She got a furious immortal who treats the litter box as a personal affront and narrates every indignity like a documented war crime. Elira has no idea what is really purring on her windowsill. She has no idea what her grandmother sealed in the basement, either - or why the wards keep flickering, or what has started breathing behind her in empty rooms.

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Velzara knows. She knows exactly how a house this quiet goes wrong.

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Caught between an enemy she cannot name and a curse she cannot break, the once-princess faces the most humiliating truth of her long existence: the only thing standing between this oblivious girl and something old and hungry is a cat who refuses, on principle, to admit she has started to care.

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Curse Meow Not is the first book in The Infurnal Catastrophe - a series that drives apocalyptic dread straight into domestic absurdity and apologizes for neither. For readers who want their cosmic horror with claws, their cozy fantasy with teeth, and a heroine whose dignity dies a little more with every biscuit she is caught making.

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Curse Meow Not

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