The Book
Mewla Young's new novel follows a teenager named Zarah as she faces and overcomes coming-of-age challenges with the support of her two cats.
“Zarah”
In fifteen-year-old Zarah Brant’s mind, everything about her life says misfit, from her embarrassingly alcoholic mother, an Iraqi War veteran, to their run-down cabin in the hills of Pennsylvania. When her best friend leaves for a summer vacation, Zarah must fend for herself against a harassing school bully.
To fulfill her wish for a pet, two little cats wander into Zarah’s yard that give Zarah the love she craves. But a chain of events soon unwraps a mystery that cuts close to home.
Care to read a section from the book?
"Zarah" Excerpt I
Tuesday morning, I opened my bedroom window and let a faint breeze cool my face. The sun sparkled on Lake Ohneka. A bright yellow goldfinch chirped noisily in the big maple tree behind Mom’s bedroom.
I pulled on my clothes and crept out to the living room. Our log walls kept the room shadowy in the morning when the sun shone from the east. I switched on the kitchen light. Grimy dishes crowded the laminate counter. Mom hadn’t gotten up yet, so I quietly placed the plates in the sink to wash. If I woke up Mom, there’d be hell to pay.
From the kitchen window, blue jays cawed in alarm. I scanned the yard for an intruder. Sure enough, a skinny cat scurried through the weeds and grass, its tail tucked against the ground.
If there’s one thing in this world I love, it’s animals. Cats, dogs, monkeys—it doesn’t matter what kind. I leaned closer to get a look. The tabby scurried toward the house.
I yanked open the fridge and scrounged some leftover chicken nuggets.
Outside, two cats—small, but older than kittens—crouched in the brush.
I stepped down from the porch, and the cats froze, their bodies poised to dart away. Their sweet, worried faces made them look like lost waifs.
I spoke softly, not wanting to scare them. “Hi, cuties.”
The tabby, its fur matted, stretched out one leg, ready to sprint. The second cat, midnight black, scampered behind a bush.
I stepped closer and squatted down on the grass. Resting on one knee, I held out a piece of chicken. “Hi. You’re pretty.”
The scruffy furball sniffed the air, so I tossed a piece of nugget on the ground. It inched closer and gulped the bit down.
The cat’s brown and black stripes reminded me of my grandma’s tomcat. When I was eight, Grams and Lord Whiskers came to live with us. Some of the best times of my life were petting and playing with that big cat. We’d run around the cabin playing hide-and-seek, or I’d hold him in my lap and feed him cat food with a baby spoon. Mom was better then, too. Happier.
Every day when I got off the bus, Lord Whiskers would scamper down our driveway to greet me, his tail thrust up in the air. We’d walk to the cabin together, unless a squirrel showed up. Then the cat would take off, sprinting halfway up a tree until the squirrel leapt across the canopy of branches above us and disappeared. At night, Grams let me prepare Lord Whiskers special dinner of wet food, and he’d sit with us as we watched TV.
Then Grams’ cancer came back. It got really bad. Lord Whiskers sat next to her on her bed all day and night, his nose grazing her ear. Sometimes he’d press his forehead to her cheek to comfort her. He didn’t leave her side until the end.
Now, I broke off another piece of nugget, set it on the ground, and waited. The tabby approached and gobbled the food down. I stretched out my hand, and it ran its nose along my fingers, sniffing at my pinky with little kisses of air.
The second cat had crept out of hiding. It stood back, observing me with suspicious eyes.
“Here you go.” I broke off a bite of chicken and threw it a few feet from the black cat.
The little guy twitched, but its eyes fixed on the food.
Still crouching, my knee began to hurt, but I didn’t dare move.
The black cat snuck forward, taking one step and stopping, then another. With one last anxious glance at me, it grabbed a nugget and darted back to the brush. A moment later, it reemerged for more, its little eyes shining.
I fed them what I had, warmth spreading inside me.
When they finished eating, the tabby rubbed against my leg, back and forth like a wind-up toy. Every brush felt like a plea. Something had been following me last night. If the thing in the woods was a bear, these cats could become its dinner.
I held my hand toward the black cat. “Do you need a home?”
It sized me up with wary eyes.
Behind me, the screen door slapped shut. Mom stood on the porch, her arms folded, hair falling messily over her gray T-shirt.
“Whose cats are those?” Her voice was harsh.
“No one’s, Mom,” I said over my shoulder. “They don’t have a home.” Maybe they didn’t.
“Well, you better not be feeding them my food.”
The cats were the cutest things in the world. Something inside me ached to have them close, to pet them, to hold them. I’d wanted a pet my whole life, but Mom always said no. She said pets were dirty and she hated cats, but maybe…
I stood and faced her, searching for a reason she would understand. None came. “Can I have them?”
“Are you crazy?” she snapped. “We’re not keeping those fleabags.”
I swallowed. What would make her see how much I want them? I needed something to love, to call my own. Something to love me back. I took a breath.
“Someone has to take care of them.”
“We can’t afford any pets.”
My chest tightened. “Look how thin they are.”
“I said no. Now hurry up. You have to wash the dishes before the school bus comes.” She pivoted back into the house. The screen door banged after her.
I turned to the cats, but they seemed to sense they were unwanted. The black cat trotted across the yard toward the road. After a moment, the tabby loped after it, stopped, and looked back at me. Then they were gone.
* * * * *
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To read Book Excerpt II, click HERE
I love this book already. Why is there so many novels about human’s connection with dogs, but none about pet cats (unless you’re talking about kid books with talking cats)! Please, sign me up so I can buy a copy!
I love this story. The pacing and emotion are spot on. When will the novel be for sale? Thank you Mewla!
One tabby cat and one midnight-black? Nice to know where the inspiration came from : ) I’m hooked already. Definitely interested in reading more!
The book sounds amazing! I am interested in reading about what happens next with the cats and Zarah. Please let me know when the book is available.
oh wow what a very interesting story its very catchy and well written i hope those cats get their home there even if they have to be snuck in lol
awesome job you are an amazing writer with much respect and love hugs x o the cats and me x o
This excerpt is intriguing, Mewla. You captured a young teenage who loves cats and would love to have their comfort. I am intrigue by the mother-daughter relationship, especially since the mother is an Iraqi War veteran. I worked with a few woman who were in the Iraqi war – seldom did the families come out unscathed. I am definitely interested in reading how you unfold the mystery of the cats and how the daughter and mother relationship moves forward. Please let me know when your book is available.
I’m happy you think so, Cecilia, and grateful for your support.
I found your writing especially fresh and interesting!
It was fun and exciting to read. I quickly found myself wondering ‘what’s next?’
For some reason, I really enjoyed the movement from each sentence to the next.
There’s some kind of artful spacing of the character’s thoughts that felt good.
Looking forward to what’s next!
I appreciate your feedback, Betty. Glad you enjoyed the pacing and flow. 🙂
Great excerpt, Put me on the list,
Thank you Mikki!💜
Thank you! Will there be more chapters posted?
Please let me know know when the debut novel is available!
The book sounds really good, Mewla! Looking forward to reading it!
Thank you for your support, Leah!
Congratulations on a great website, Mewla, and on your debut novel. Cat lovers will enjoy both.
Cassandra
Aloha Cass! Thank you very much for your support! – Mewla
Sounds like a good book
Happy that you think so, Laura!
I relate to Zarah. I wanted a pet when I was a teenager. Parents need to be more understanding about how much some kids need the love of a pet.
Hi Marylou,
I agree. Many parents don’t understand that middle and high school are very stressful, regardless of the ‘anti-bullying’ programs underway. Hopefully this story will speak to teens as well as parents.
Mewla
Great story! Will the book be available soon.? I will buy it!
I will let you know! Just send me your contact information on the ‘Contact Us’ page. : )
I am grateful for your support!
I would Love to own a copy of this book !
The excerpt I have read certainly whetted my appetite for more. Perhaps the book will be for sale very soon and hopefully on a world market via Amazon ?
I’m sure there’s many who will be like myself in wanting to continue reading this , please let us know .
Thank you so very much ❤️🌟✨✨✨✨✨
thank you Chrissy! I appreciate your support : )
I cant wait to read the novel,
thank you Joe!
I love this book! I want to read more!
Thank you DR!
I used to befriend the local strays, trying to coax them into the house when my parents weren’t looking, and trying to pretend I wasn’t allergic to them as my eyes itched and my nose ran. Sigh. Now I enjoy cats from a distance (although, they always seem to know and make a beeline to the person who is allergic to them – and I can’t resist giving them a stroke when they roll over and beg for a tummy rub).
I love your artwork on this website and the book looks great.
Thank you for your story and nice compliment Katy!