Daughter
of the Sun
Cult
of the Cat
Book
1
Zoe
Kalo
Genre:
YA Fantasy
Date
of Publication: Ebook April 1, 2016
Date
of Publication: Print June 15, 2016
ISBN:
978-1533061768
ASIN:
B01DRDUQW8
Number
of pages: ebook 330 pages
Number
of pages: print 350 pages
Word
Count: 95,000
Cover
Artist: S. Frost Designs
Book
Description:
Sixteen-year-old
Trinity was born during a solar eclipse and left at the doorsteps of
a convent along with a torn piece of papyrus covered with ancient
symbols. Raised by nuns in the English countryside, she leads a quiet
life until she’s whisked away to the Island of Cats and a
grandmother she never knew.
But
before they can get to know each other, her grandmother dies. All
that Trinity has left is a mysterious eye-shaped ring. And a thousand
grieving cats. As Trinity tries to solve the enigma of the torn
papyrus, she discovers a world of bloody sacrifices and evil curses,
and a prophecy that points to her and her new feline abilities.
Unwilling
to believe that any of the Egyptian gods could still be alive,
Trinity turns to eighteen-year-old Seth and is instantly pulled into
a vortex of sensations that forces her to confront her true self—and
a horrifying destiny.
Daughter
of the Sun - Cult of the Cat Book 1 Chapter 1
One
month before the summer solstice…
Goosebumps
snaked up my spine.
I'd
had the same sensation last night while gazing at the moon, when for
an instant I’d picture it red, bathed in blood. Then the rippling,
bristling feeling had come back this morning as I brushed my teeth
and stared at the reflection of my eyes in the bathroom mirror. In a
flash the green orbs had turned crimson. I’d blinked, struck by a
wave of vertigo, the cold tiles shifting under my feet.
“Trinity...you
all right?” Brianna nudged my arm, bringing me back to the present.
We were walking down the main staircase of the orphanage—where we’d
lived all of our lives—toward the open-air playground for our usual
half-hour break after lunch.
“Fine.
Just restless.”
“Maybe
lunch did it. All those veggies. They take you for a rabbit.”
The
touch of humor in her voice didn't lift the dark cloud hovering over
me. I shot her a sideways glance. “No, not the veggies,” I
muttered. “Something else.”
She
stopped in the middle of the staircase and her hazel eyes studied my
face. “What?”
I
stopped, shrugging. “Don't know.”
“I
saw you in the dormitory last night, staring out the window. You
seemed so far away.”
Red
moon.
The
sky had been so clear, the stars twinkling like gems, so unusual for
the common grayness of the English countryside.
Blood
moon.
I’d
been mesmerized, as if its eerie splendor had spoken to me in an
ancient, alien language. I hadn't been able to understand it, but I’d
felt faint by its allure.
“Trinity?”
“It's
nothing. You know me. One day up, one day down.” I looked to the
bottom of the staircase, past the hall to the open doors to the
courtyard. Now the sky was gray. The girls played outside, chatting
incessantly. The little ones ran this way and that, their black and
white uniforms a blur.
When
I looked back at Brianna, I saw she was staring at something past my
shoulder. I turned around and glimpsed a flash of black through the
window.
“Did
you see that?” I asked. “Looked like a limousine.” Not that I’d
ever seen one in real life, only in the movies we were sometimes
allowed to watch in the weekends. “I wonder if it’s coming here.”
But
Brianna didn’t answer. Her spaced-out gaze was still fixed on the
window. There was something odd about her expression.
“Brianna.
Hello. I’m talking to you.”
She
blinked, startled. She looked at me. “What? Oh. Right. You know…I
just—I just remembered… I have to help Sister Anne at the
library.”
“Now?
All of a sudden?”
“Like
I said, I just remembered.”
I
made a dismissive gesture with my hand. “Tell her you forgot.” I
did feel a twinge of guilt. Sister Anne was one of the nice ones.
“She's so old, she won't even remember.”
“Don’t
be mean. I promised her.”
“You
know, people take advantage when you’re always nice.”
She
didn’t answer, but I read the gentle reproach in her eyes.
“All
right, all right,” I muttered. “I'll see you later.”
She
smiled and, to my surprise, gave me a tight, warm hug. “Cheer up. I
don't like it when you get the blues. I want you to be happy.”
“Thanks,”
I mumbled. Her chestnut hair, streaked with copper and gold and woven
into a braid like we were all supposed to wear, smelled like soap,
clean, fresh. Which reminded me: I had not braided my hair today.
Brianna
was my best friend in the world. Nearly seventeen years ago, when we
were tiny babies, we had been found at the door of the orphanage only
a day apart—a very odd event, according to the nuns. When we were
babies we were often put in the same crib and we sucked each other’s
thumbs and took turns crying for attention.
We
drew apart and she hurried up the stairs, the old wood creaking under
the rubber soles of her shoes.
I
moved in the opposite direction toward the courtyard.
Outside,
the sky was covered with virulent clouds, promising a downpour. A
cool breeze hit my cheeks, made me instantly alert. The air was
redolent of fertilizers from the nearby farms. The temperature was
unusually cold for late May. Sister Eveline and Sister Celeste
already kept guard, but as one of the older girls, my duty was to
keep watch during playtime. The courtyard was big and was enclosed by
high, rusted, spiked iron gates crawling with vines and wisteria.
Beyond the gates, on one side, a massive weeping willow loomed, its
leaves rustling in the breeze. On another side, rolling hills made
most of the landscape, dotted here and there with the silhouettes of
nearby farms.
The
courtyard was made of concrete and had swings and see-saws for the
younger girls. The rest was just empty space with a few stone benches
for us to sit.
The
Sisters strolled across the courtyard toward the main doors, their
heads tilted downward, deep in conversation—or so I thought. In
their wimples and flowing habits, they looked like two big black
birds. Sister Eveline suddenly turned toward me with a hard
expression and made a gesture about my hair.
“I’ll
braid it after the break,” I said, trying not to sound annoyed. I
gave her a lovable grin and pointed to the younger children. “I
have to keep an eye on them, as you know.”
The
look she gave me told me she didn’t buy my sweet disposition, but
she let it drop and continued her way to the doors.
I
crouched and chatted with the little ones for a while, and pushed
their backs at the swings. I giggled at their silly, innocent tales.
Sophie, a sweet five year-old with red corkscrew ringlets, wrapped
her small arms around me and I whirled her in the air.
When
I put her down, I spotted Beth Thompson and her two evil minions
emerging from the corner of the orphanage. A cat trailed behind her.
I
narrowed my eyes. Beth had tied a string around the cat’s neck and
was pulling it along like a pet—but, as I knew only too well, girls
like Beth didn't keep pets.
Then
Beth did something she shouldn’t have done: when the cat refused to
budge, she yanked the string, almost choking the animal.
I
winced, feeling the pain as my own.
A
shiver rippled up my spine. Again.
About
the Author:
A
certified bookworm and ailurophile, Zoe Kalo has always been obsessed
with books and reading. Reading led to writing—compulsively. No
surprise that at 16, she wrote her first novel, which her classmates
read and passed around secretly. The pleasure of writing and sharing
her fantasy worlds has stayed with her, so now she wants to pass her
stories to you with no secrecy—but with lots of mystery….
A
daughter of adventurous expats, she’s had the good fortune of
living on 3 continents, learning 4 languages, and experiencing a
multicultural life. Currently, she’s working on a Master’s degree
in Comparative Literature, which she balances between writing, taking
care of her clowder of cats, and searching for the perfect bottle of
pinot noir. She lives and writes in Belgium.
Twitter:
@zoekalowriter
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I like the cover. It's unique. Thanks for the excerpt!
ReplyDeleteWhat a nice cover! I'd love to read this!
ReplyDeletesounds like a good read!
ReplyDelete