Jemima Cats Novels & Stories

She muttered, exalting a puff of air. ***** "Oh my God! Who could be the father of this baby?" Jelnimia gasped as she took a closer look at her belly region. She breathed in deeply, her entire being trembling in fear as the realization that she was now carrying a seed in her, filled her. ''Now, what am I going to do?'' She gasped, her thoughts rapidly racing through a million different scenarios. She could not kill an innocent unborn child.

AMEIRA is on her way to the convenience store where she works. Everything you need for your home is already there, such as food, materials, and paint. Her hands were in her pockets as she headed to work. She wore a long black cloak, which she used to wear so that she would not be recognized. Maybe she didn't want anyone to recognize her identity because her beauty undeniably grabs attention, she doesn't know why.

For one begging the gods to bless her with the fruit of the womb, it was unwise to feed on nursing mothers or ones that were pregnant. Turning away from the animal, Ejima was about to decide her next step when she heard a cry. A wild cat? Ejima hissed and rested her hands on her waist. Her eyes searched the green and brown world. She was a slinger, the best in the kingdom, at least her husband had made sure of that. She could sling with both the left or the right hand at a strand of hair and not miss. She was a brave hunter. But she hated wild beasts and the least of her favorites was jungle cats.

“How are you?” Emma had her hair up in what Kat thought was supposed to be braids, but she wasn’t entirely sure. After Gavin had greeted her in his usual gruff way, Emma opened her mouth like she was about to say something, but then thought better of it. “How’s your weekend been, Emma?” Kat asked, ignoring her frustrating father. “Okay,” the girl murmured. But then her eyes lit up as she added, “We found some kittens at the back of Mike’s. There are five of them. All black.”

' I rebuked her curtly. Instead of stopping, Jemima went crazy ... she stroked Blaze's chest and put her palm into Blaze's shirt. "I'myours .... Make me yours ... now!" She whispered very seductively Jemima is indeed crazy! Blaze smiled broadly. "I am ... indeed yours. Jemima, tell me ... what you want, I will do for you ..." he said again. "Mmh ... I want ..." Jemima said and hung up her sentence, she seemed to be deep in thought.

Two inquisitive black noses stuck out and watched Emily enter the room. Going to her knees, Emily sat beside Zenya and spoke gently to the she-cat. "Hi Zenya, I am also new to this world and in need of friends. I know of no differences between the cats and wolves. I just want friends that will care for me and allow me to care about them." Zenya smiled shyly and raised her eyes briefly to Emily's. Sierra chose that instance to fly out from under the crib and give Emily a small nip before running back to her brother's side.

she replied with a grin and then spanked my butt as she walked past me towards the pantry area. My lips parted in surprise. I wouldn't have expected her to do something so playful and yet so intimate. Instead of feeling pleased, I felt wary and my wolf justified my feeling of wariness. “She’s planning something,” Kieran said. Of course, she was. Jemima was a terrible actress and her eyes were always going to give her away. I needed to find out whatever it was she was planning because my gut feeling told me that the outcome was going to be nasty. While I cooked, she sat on the kitchen counter, enjoying her bowl of ice cream and periodically commenting on how skilled I was.

Jemima dashed into her apartment, her breath ragged and her face covered in sweat. She grabbed the water from her desk and downed it in one gulp. Once she calmed down, she sat on her bed, recalling what had happened to her. The hounds. They had scared the hell out of her. After she had agreed to Tatiana's request, someone in the dark whistled, and the hounds left her. Jemima had tried to find the person, but he was gone along with the hounds.

have found me so fast. She shoved the thought down. Hard. Across the yard, Jasmine and Kika were locked in a brutal spar. Jasmine—wild cat number 89—was dominating, landing elbow strikes and knee drives that had Kika (101) staggering. Serial stood at the edge of the mat, arms crossed, shouting critiques. “Too slow, 101! You fight like you’re scared of pain—newsflash, it’s coming anyway!” Jasmine swept Kika’s legs; Kika hit the mat hard. Serial barked a laugh. Then her gaze shifted. Landed on Riley. A slow, predatory smile curled her lips. “Oh look who we have here,” Serial called, loud enough to draw eyes from every corner of the yard. “The runaway wild cat. Quite surprising how out of the