– ‘The Magic of Wor(l)ds’ blog is a hobby, reviews and other bookish stuff on this site are done for free. –
Today I’m on the ‘Conspiracy of Cats’ blogtour, organized by Zooloo’s Book Tours.
To promote this book I have an excerpt, but before I let you read it first some ‘basic’ information.
About the Author :
B. C. Harris is a Scot who, at the time of writing, had just finished renovating a farmhouse in France.
A labour of love that began from first sight back in 2016. No sooner had the final length of flooring been laid and the last paintbrush dried, than disaster struck in the form of pandemic. France went into a strict lockdown and, with time to do more than simply daydream about writing books, a new project began to take shape.
Writing began as an escape from the fear and isolation that was soon affecting us all, and quickly flourished to become ‘Conspiracy of Cats.’ The global pandemic seems to be receding now, but the passion for writing has taken root. Find out more about B. C. Harris online.
You can connect with her on Facebook, Twitter, or Instagram.
CONSPIRACY OF CATS… a supernatural murder mystery.
An apprehensive Jos Ferguson travels from Edinburgh to northern Tanzania to visit the house her Uncle Peter built before he died. But Peter isn’t as dead as he should be… he was murdered, and he wants his niece to help him exact revenge upon his killer. With a little Maasai magic and a conspiracy of cats, Jos sets out to do exactly that.
A beautiful house. A horrible death. A brilliant revenge.
Who knew death could be so lively?
A shockwave passed through Jos rendering her entire body limp and her voice silent. She folded at the waist, and Joseph was then struggling to hold her upright so the laibon could keep their bonded blood above the flames.
The laibon began to sing. His song invoked the spirits of his ancestors. He called to them, pleaded for their guidance. Singing incantations and murmuring spells, the cadence of his voice rose and fell like the fire. But, as his voice grew stronger, the fire began to climb higher, licking at their hands. When his voice reached a crescendo, the laibon forced their joined hands down into the belly of the fire and held them there for a few seconds. When he retracted their hands, he relinquished his grip on the little sister’s hand, and Joseph laid her down.
Minutes later, the still unconscious Jos was curled up in foetal position close to the fire, her injured hand wrapped up in a clean piece of cloth. Joseph would tend to it as soon as he could, but before that he had to help with the summoning. He was on the cusp of becoming a laibon and had spent many years studying for the transformation, but he’d spent the previous three months rehearsing for this ceremony and he knew the song off by heart.
The summoning was a relatively unremarkable ritual.
The laibon began to sing again. A different song to invoke different magic. His voice was weak because his life was fading. Joseph also sang, his voice stronger, louder. The flames rose and fell once again, dancing in time to the cadence of this new spell, writhing and swaying, climbing higher and higher with the progression of the melody. Together the two men rose up onto their bare feet, the younger helping and supporting his elder. Their two voices continuing to sing, enticing the fire to grow, inviting the flames to dance higher. Their three elements united in invoking an ancient rite which would take hold of a free spirit, carry it across a distance to an intended destination, and then bind it with another.
Many years previously the laibon had performed a similar spell to gather his friend’s spirit from the border of death, so he could then bring it to, and bind it with the white house. Of course, the white house had no spirit of its own with which Peter’s could be bonded. But Peter
had already put enough of himself into the house he’d made so, when what remained of him was brought back, the laibon was able to fix it all in place long enough to complete the ritual. The rest… the years of remaining fixed in that place, were testament to Peter’s strength. Since that night, they had been waiting for Peter’s niece to set them both free.
The Magic of Wor(l)ds