Cursed cats. Cosmic chaos. Comedy darker than it should be.
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The Cat Who Ate the End of the World
🌍
Releases March 21st!
😼
The Cat Who Ate the End of the World 🌍 Releases March 21st! 😼
What are you in the mood for?
Dark Fantasy
Curses, ghosts, and a very angry princess.
Detective Noir
Psychic cats. Cold cases. Bad attitudes.
Portal Adventures
Wrong world. Wrong body. No Tail.
Space Comedy
One cat. One spaceship. Zero qualifications.
Cosmic Comedy
Apocalypses, paradoxes, chaotic kitties.
Tender Ones
Some stories purr. These ones leave marks.
Holiday Comedy
Festive. Feral. Probably cursed.
Recently Released
A cat hits a spaceship viewport. In hard vacuum. Completely calm. Mouthing: "You missed the turnoff."
It gets worse from there.
Cargo hauler Jarik Venn just wanted to deliver freeze-dried rations and avoid toll stations. Instead, he rescued a reality-warping cat from the vacuum of space, became wanted in nine sectors, and accidentally destroyed a government starship with a weaponized hairball.
The cat's name is Brentley. He's a pathological liar, an escaped familiar, and possibly the most wanted being in three sectors. He's also Jarik's new passenger. Whether Jarik likes it or not.
Now they're being hunted by the Familiar Reclamation Bureau of Licensing—a cosmic agency dedicated to tracking down rogue magical entities and drowning them in paperwork. Their lead agent? Inspector Greeb, a corgi in a tiny vest who quotes regulations like scripture and has a personal vendetta against one particular orange tabby.
Between zero-G slapstick, bureaucratic absurdity, and one catastrophically glowing hairball, Jarik discovers that the universe's rules are more like suggestions. Reality bends around Brentley. Lies occasionally come true. And the Bureau has seventeen different forms for "harboring a fugitive familiar."
When Brentley's past catches up to them in the form of a Leviathan-class enforcement frigate, Jarik faces a choice: spend the rest of his life filing paperwork in triplicate, or embrace the chaos and become the galaxy's most wanted transportation provider.
The cat already filed the paperwork. Mentally. Jarik's complicit.
NINE LIVES, ZERO PAPERWORK is the first book in the Nine Lives, Infinite Lies series—a comedic science fiction adventure featuring:
A cat who survives vacuum and lies with impunity
Space bureaucrats more dangerous than pirates
A corgi inspector with a badge and a martyr complex
Zero-G slapstick involving haunted mayonnaise
One very unfortunate cargo hauler who just wanted a quiet life
Paperwork. So much paperwork.
Cosmic comedy where bureaucracy meets chaos.
Nine Lives, Zero Paperwork
A cat hits a spaceship viewport mouthing: "You missed the turnoff."
Missi has a good life. She has her witch, her brother, her spot on the back of the chair, and a demanding opinion about when pets should happen. She survived kittenhood in dangerous places, lost siblings, got passed over by another witch who didn't want her. But she found home. She's content.
Then her face starts to hurt.
At first it's small—a sore spot she keeps licking, a scab that won't heal. Her witch notices. There are trips to the healer, potions that taste terrible, words Missi doesn't understand spoken in worried tones over her head. She doesn't know what's wrong. She only knows that something has changed, and the pets she used to demand now make her flinch.
Her magic has turned traitor. A flaw she was born with, dormant until now, has woken. Her own power treats her skin as the enemy—attacking, blistering, refusing to let her heal. It's not a curse anyone cast. It's just what her body does now.
What follows isn't a battle. There's no villain to defeat, no cure to quest for. There's only the long, unglamorous work of figuring out how to live. Treatments that don't work. Treatments that work for a while and then stop. Good days that feel like gifts. Bad days that feel like betrayal. A witch who absorbs the fear and the research and the financial strain so Missi doesn't have to carry it alone—even though Missi doesn't fully understand what her human is doing or why.
Through it all, Missi stays herself. Opinionated. Dignified. Frustrated when her body won't cooperate. Confused when routines keep changing. Still demanding affection, even when she has to be careful about how she receives it. Her brother stays close—a warm presence when everything else feels wrong.
The resolution isn't triumphant. It's quieter than that. A medication that finally seems to hold. A stretch of days where nothing gets worse. The slow realization that this is life now—different, careful, requiring adjustments—and life can still be good.
Handle with Care
A tortoiseshell familiar. A body at war with itself. Love measured in doses.
Krampus has been doing Santa's dirty work for five hundred years. He's done. Finished. Retired. Santa's response? Drop a magical chaos cat on his doorstep.
Look, Krampus earned his solitude. Five centuries of naughty lists, behavioral corrections, and cleaning up after every Nice Kid who went sideways should come with the right to peace and quiet. Maybe a hobby. Definitely the right to ignore Holiday HR and their increasingly desperate "Goodwill Outreach Initiative."
Then Santa shows up with Yule.
Yule is not a normal cat. He's the Spirit of Festive Misrule, magic on four paws, and he comes with twelve days of escalating holiday disasters that turn Krampus's carefully ordered life into a glitter-bombed nightmare. Snarky partridges that won't shut up. French hens with union demands. Swans requiring therapy. Geese that are legitimately explosive.
Each day the chaos compounds—because unlike normal holiday magic, Yule's manifestations don't disappear. They pile up. They interact. They make Krampus's house look like a holiday fever dream.
But here's the thing that's actually breaking through Krampus's defenses: it's not the chaos. It's Yule himself. The way that ridiculous cat keeps pushing him toward connection. Toward vulnerability. Toward all the things Krampus locked away when the holiday world decided there wasn't room for someone like him.
Turns out sometimes the only way back to joy involves a lot of property damage and a cat who refuses to take no for an answer.
Twelve Days of Catmas
A burned-out Krampus. A chaos cat from HR. Twelve days of involuntary joy.
Coming Soon
The Cat Who Ate the End of the WOrld
March 21, 2026
He ate the apocalypse. She fought the paperwork. The demon took notes.
Forget Meow Not
June 6, 2026
She was cursed for the apocalypse. He stole a tea cozy. The house took sides.