Finn, The Enchanted Cat

In my mental waiting room, the chairs have metal legs and the burgundy fabric is natty and rough. Most who wait don't sit. Depending on personality and how anxious they are to get the heck out of there, each character will pace a bit, shift and stand and stare at the little number tag in their hand.

Finn, the enchanted cat in Irish Moon, skipped the line with a hiss and a snide remark.

No one held it against him.

Perhaps because Finn, a cat who talks, who is
tired of waiting for Breanne O'Donnell to finally master her talents, is just one of those characters we love to hate. Finn tells it like it is. He's a reluctant companion who'd rather be his own cat than beholden and dependent on Breanne.


Not that he doesn't care for Breanne. He does. But she is young and her Druid priest isn't pushing her hard enough. Finn doesn't want to take matters into his own...paws.

Every character I write feels real to me, but Finn is still my favorite. Not simply because he's a talking cat, though that in itself was a riot. Moreover because of his snarky honesty. There's just something in his delivery of a brutally cold but true line. Probably that swish of a tail that goes with it.

Either way, he immediately endeared himself to me. So much so that I hope he'll be back even though I can't imagine how that could work out in the remaining Moon series books.

I don't want to give anything away, but after you read Irish Moon, if you have any ideas on how he can enter stage left again, I am all ears. And whiskers.