08/06/2026
Just 19 limited hardcovers left for preorder (50 copy run). Again, this one won't break the bank! Grab one.
Here's a snippet of the novella for you all from Chapter 2:
His person smiled weakly and confirmed, “My sweet baby,” and Chester rubbed his face against their hand. They hardly pushed back at all. He looked to his person, and then the harness on the floor, and mewed. His person choked, and Chester jumped down. They struggled for breath. He jumped up, and jumped down, and murred a question. His person coughed and coughed, and gasped and shook.
As they sputtered, Chester saw gossamer ribbons of light rise out of their mouth and nose, their eyes and ears, their belly button, their groin; rise like smoke in a sunbeam and braid together and coil like silk. With each convulsion more ribbon spooled out, until one last, long sigh set them free. There, above his person, they resolved into a long bright string.
String was one of Chester’s favorite-favorite games. Despite himself, he jumped up and grabbed at it but his claws had nothing to catch. It hung for a moment, then disappeared into the ceiling.
He looked at the harness, and at his person, who was very still now, very still. Their insides ticked down like an unwound watch. He licked salt and sour off their cheek. Their eyes were open, as was their mouth, but Chester understood this was no longer their eyes or their mouth, because they were gone.
Gone with the string. He knew this as all cats know death. He looked to the corners of the room. He sniffed and whisked the air. They were gone. Still, he thought it best to be sure, so he climbed onto the chest of his person’s former body and kneaded and walked in a circle and curled in a bun, and purred. He purred hard, to be a beacon for them to return to, should they return. He wasn’t sure. All the other ribbonstrings like this he had ever seen were just passing through, floating aimlessly like discarded plastic bags, or following some oblivious human like a string on an invisible balloon. Ribbons didn’t necessarily just go away. They could linger. Maybe they could come back.
