Tuesday Tales 2025-12-9 Snowy

Welcome to Tuesday Tales, powered by a small group of authors, where word prompts inspire passages in the books we’re writing. The word of the day is snowy. This is from a work in progress, book 8 of the Wytchfae series, a paranormal fantasy romance entitled Silver’s Angel. It features a supporting female character from Lord of Fire and a rockstar named Lucien Silver. When you finish the passage, make sure to visit all the talented authors of Tuesday Tales.

A plaintive sound captured his attention. Curious, he looked down. An enormous white puffball sashayed around his ankles, bare above the buttery leather of his Italian loafers. Purring loudly, the creature curled around Lucien’s legs like he was a long-lost chew toy.

He grimaced, shaking his leg to deter the affectionate feline. “Shoo, cat.”

The cat ceased its revolutions to peer up at him with disapproving gemstone eyes. “Meoooowr.”

The demanding cry should have annoyed him further. Instead, he grinned and shook his head, amused at the opinionated Persian at his feet. “What do you want, cat?”

The cat shoved its not insubstantial weight against his leg and twirled, again stopping to favor him with a periwinkle gaze. A dainty “Meow” issued forth.

Lucien furrowed his brow. Reaching down, he captured the snowy bundle, lifting it into his arms. The quicksilver feline was on the move. Black tipped pads burrowed into his chest, soft fur tickled his nose, and a sandpaper tongue flicked delicate laps against his Adam’s apple. The cat had a sweet scent, like orange blossoms and pears.

Lucien grunted. “You smell good. Must have had a bath recently. Where is your owner? Why are you outside roaming around?” He lifted the feline for inspection and raised a brow of wry satisfaction. “Exactly as I thought. Female through and through.”

Puffs of hairs took flight as he patted the snowy thicket of her neck. Its fragility surprised him. “No collar.” He had expected a diamond circlet, or at least rhinestone, emblazoning a name like Precious or Princess.

“Meowrrr.” With a testy thump the cat regained her prime position on Lucien’s chest and resumed her love fest with his Adam’s apple. Leave it to a cat to have its priorities straight.

He grinned. “That tickles, cat.” He shook his head at the inanity of the situation. He’d better unload her and slink back to the hotel before Bradley called out a posse.

Stepping away from the building, he gazed up and down the lake shore. No houses were visible. “Where’d you come from, cat?” Gemstone eyes blinked at him. With determination, he unglued the cat’s paws from his body, wincing at the resulting needle pricks. Setting her down on a clump of grass, he flicked his hand in the general direction of anywhere but here. “Shoo. Run along home now.”

Thanks for stopping by. I hope you enjoyed the piece inspired by the word snowy. If you haven’t done so already, check out the other excerpts at Tuesday Tales.

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