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  • It was Jacquelyn's turn to hold the Lughnasadh Tea Ritual. With careful attention, she prepared the buffet-style table with clean tableware and matching tea service. She properly baked a tidy assortment of Lammas loaf owls and Corn King cakes, and Goddess scones, and made the savory finger-sandwiches, even cutting off the crusts for the fussier guests. On the porcelain enamel stove, the water awaited her, ready to be heated once her fellow Wiccans arrived.


    Jacquelyn was fourteen when she converted to the Wiccan ways much to the shagreen of her Secular Rationalist family. By the time she was sixteen, she had dedicated herself fully to all things eerie, mysterious and magical.


    As she puttered around, meticulously checking off her list of formal arrangements, Jacquelyn worried about whether anyone would notice that she was using bovine milk rather than licorne cream and if Phoebe would still be angry about what happened last time (when Jacquelyn’s little aspie brother randomly mailed out the party notices and invited half of the neighborhood), and were the sandwiches elegant enough to make up for using just plain three-tiered cake stands, or would they gossip about her store-bought brand afterwards like they'd gossip about Murielle's... and then she noticed the cat in the garden again.


    The cat had been skulking about the place for a while. Jacquelyn considered shooing it away. It was a mangy looking thing-- matted blue-black fur clinging to its wiry, whippet like form. On any other day, Jacquelyn wouldn't even have bothered with the scare tactics. Would even have thrown some table scraps to it. But tonight was the Lughnasadh Tea, and she didn't want to put the coven into yet another uninvited guest situation.


    Sighing, the wannabe teen witch stepped outside with her broom. Then she halted because the cat was sauntering towards her, smiling very broadly like the Cheshire one from Alice in Wonderland.


    "Do you often keep your guests waiting for quite so long?" Its voice grated like a rusty gate hinge.


    "Oooh, nice one guys,” she said, glancing around the dimly-lite garden, “you had me going for a minute!"


    Stifling a chuckle, she turned back to the cat. “Oh, no!” exclaimed Jacquelyn, feigning absolute mortification. “I'm so sorry, but there's been a miscommunication. Due to the venue size, we're keeping the guest list quite small. This means we just do not have room to fit everybody on the list. I'm so sorry that we can't extend an invitation, and even more sorry about this miscommunication. I hope you can understand."


    “Oh, well, no matter,” the cat carelessly replied. “I’m quite sure your tea room’s big enough to accommodate up to three hundred guests very comfortably.”


    "Uh-huh.” Jacquelyn smirked and said, “Sure, pal” she looked around the garden again, then continued, “But alas, I only have room for like twenty.”


    The cat sat on its haunches, yellowish eyes and teeth gleaming in the porch lights.


    After a moment of uncomfortable silence, Jacquelyn responded, “Yeah, twenty of my best fashionable, A-list, Celeb-Sisters of the Goddess friends... who all know how to combine classic essentials of high fashion with the latest Pagan Society trends...and probably do a bit of punking on the side.”


    The cat continued its eerie stare down. From the shadowy meadowy borders of the garden, there came a faint stealthy rustle as if the dried autumn grass was being crushed under the pressure of soft but heavy footfalls.


    “Okay, like seriously holy fuck, how are you doing this trick!” Jacquelyn shouted to the surrounding privet hedges. “Cause it’s seriously freaking me out! Did someone slip this here cat some shrooms, LSD or something? It’s like... so majorly tripping out here. ”


    The night was silent, apart from the strange outdoor noises and the deep, purring thunder at her feet.


    “Ugh, fine,” Jacquelyn muttered as she turned to go inside. “This is like getting like, totally old fast... SO five minutes ago!”


    Behind her, the steady purr deepened to a growl growing quickly to a snarl. Jacquelyn froze, the broom falling from her limp fingers and clattering on the floor. She felt a sharp prickling on the back of her neck and a sibilant whisper in her ear, “The Old Gods are not to art mocked. Thou cannot deceive us, and we wilt not permit thou to mock us withal pretended instead of real services.”


    Jacquelyn spun around with a gasp—wide-eyed—mouth gaping. The porch was empty. In her mind, she was screaming, but no sound passed her lips.


    Then she stared incredulously, mouth falling further agape as the garden swarmed with a feline horde. They moved like a wave up the gravel drive toward the mansion, flowing over the masonry walls and topiary hedges and erasing all signs of the lawn. The air soon filled with a shrill trilling and incessant meowing.


    Her left eye began to twitch uncontrollably as the whole pack surged over the threshold, whiskers forward; eyes glinting with slyness and hunger.


    Within just a few minutes, the cats were inside fighting over the banquet and Jacquelyn's remains while a pack of feral dogs slunk a safe distance away, drooling and whining in frustration.


    As it was, the helpings proved generous, and by the time everyone finished, they were completely sated.

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    • Not even a lion can swallow an adult human being whole. We're too big. Certainly, no house cat can swallow a person whole. They might eat a lot of her, but even lions have to leave the bones behind.

      FYI, I can see cats doing this. That's why I am a dog person.

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    • I've heard of people actually being eaten by their cats after their untimely demise.

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    • Mmpratt99 deviantart wrote: I've heard of people actually being eaten by their cats after their untimely demise.

      Yes, cats will chew on people and eat them if they are hungry. Dogs will guard your body until they drop dead of starvation.

      I can see her being reduced to debris like the skull, teeth, pelvis, clothing, shoes and other major inedibles. Most flesh removed, down to the more edible organs. They wouldn't eat the lower intestines though. Having the cats chew her to death, one part at a time is more horrible. She would survive many minutes of that, in extreme pain, until she finally bled out.

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    • Wow, that's pretty depressing!  Would that make for a more fitting ending than for the cat swarm to simply engulf her?

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    • Mmpratt99 deviantart wrote: Wow, that's pretty depressing!  Would that make for a more fitting ending than for the cat swarm to simply engulf her?

      I think it's more a matter of what won't work, and that's having a household moggie swallow her whole. My style would be to have it go to the very end when she lost consciousness, screaming in frenzied agony. That doesn't have to be your style. You can choose what works for you. That moment of realization that this will turn into the end soon because she can't defeat that many housecats and is already suffering injuries might well work.

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    • Bumping this up a notch.

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    • This really reads like a troll pasta, especially with the cat suddenly speaking and the girl reacting like it's a normal thing to encounter. 

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    • BloodySpghetti wrote: This really reads like a troll pasta, especially with the cat suddenly speaking and the girl reacting like it's a normal thing to encounter.

      I'll probably have to change that part as well.

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    • DrBobSmith wrote: I think it's more a matter of what won't work, and that's having a household moggie swallow her whole. My style would be to have it go to the very end when she lost consciousness, screaming in frenzied agony. That doesn't have to be your style. You can choose what works for you. That moment of realization that this will turn into the end soon because she can't defeat that many housecats and is already suffering injuries might well work.

      I'll see if I could do a horrific ending that hopefully won't turn into an accidental comedy.

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    • Mmpratt99 deviantart wrote:


      I'll see if I could do a horrific ending that hopefully won't turn into an accidental comedy.

      It's those last three words that stop me. "swallowing her whole." Either one of those cats became elephant sized or she became the size of a mouse. If that is really what you want, then you have to specify it. "Eating her up" could work. Less specific and not blatantly physically impossible.

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    • DrBobSmith wrote: It's those last three words that stop me. "swallowing her whole." Either one of those cats became elephant sized or she became the size of a mouse. If that is really what you want, then you have to specify it. "Eating her up" could work. Less specific and not blatantly physically impossible.

      I'm going to be expanding the story a bit so the cat has a legitimate reason for getting back at the main character. Also there's a reasonable ending that might work.

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    • Hi,

      The last paragraph works better now, but I have to question these sentences.

      Then she felt a sharp prickling on the back of her neck and a sibilant whisper in her ear, “The Old Gods are not to be mocked. Ye cannot deceive us, and we will not permit you to mock us with pretended instead of real services.”

      Ye - plural familiar nominative case Old English form of you. Thou would be singular familiar nominative.

      The first paragraph describes a tea party. What sort of religious service is this that is composed of "a tidy assortment of English-style biscuits (cookies), small cakes, and scones?"

      All of the descriptive articles for a "Full Moon Tea Ritual" do not reference any god or gods. Some specifically say this ritual is not a religious ceremony or an authentic copy of any culture's ceremony.

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    • DrBobSmith wroteHi, The last paragraph works better now, but I have to question these sentences.

      Then she felt a sharp prickling on the back of her neck and a sibilant whisper in her ear, “The Old Gods are not to be mocked. Ye cannot deceive us, and we will not permit you to mock us with pretended instead of real services.”

      Ye - plural familiar nominative case Old English form of you. Thou would be singular familiar nominative. The first paragraph describes a tea party. What sort of religious service is this that is composed of "a tidy assortment of English-style biscuits (cookies), small cakes, and scones?"

      Is it Thou instead of Ye then?

      In answer to your question as to what sort of religious service is this "Full Moon Tea Ritual," it's actually a New Age Wiccan ritual.

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    • Thou for singular, Ye for plural. I see only one person setting up this Wiccan ritual.

      Make it clearer for the reader then that this is some Wiccan wanna be witch who actually believes that made up nonsense. Also, what old gods is this? I know of Ovinnik and Li Shou, but neither one of those farming gods seem related. Bastet? No, done to death.

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    • DrBobSmith wrote:

      Thou for singular, Ye for plural. I see only one person setting up this Wiccan ritual.

      Make it clearer for the reader then that this is some Wiccan wanna be witch who actually believes that made up nonsense. Also, what old gods is this? I know of Ovinnik and Li Shou, but neither one of those farming gods seem related. Bastet? No, done to death.


      Is this more correct? “The old gods are not to art mocked. Thou cannot deceive us, and we wilt not permit thou to mock us withal pretended instead of real services.”

      May I have your permission to use the phrase "Wiccan wanna be witch?

      I figure Ovinnik in his more destructive form, according to the Russian and Slavic myths.

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    • If this visiting god is actually Ovinnik? Should it be a Russian tea ceremony or a Polish Dozynki Harvest Festival then?

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    • Mmpratt99 deviantart wrote: If this visiting god is actually Ovinnik? Should it be a Russian tea ceremony then?

      Only if they are Russian Wikkans.  :-) I don't know of an appropriate Wikkan theme cat goddess, but then I don't know Wikkan stuff. You may need to do a bit of research.

      Please feel free to use Wikkan Wanna Be Witch.

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    • DrBobSmith wrote:  Only if they are Russian Wikkans.  :-) I don't know of an appropriate Wikkan theme cat goddess, but then I don't know Wikkan stuff. You may need to do a bit of research.

      Please feel free to use Wikkan Wanna Be Witch.

      Thank you. I was looking up French folklore, and there's an evil creature called a matagot or mandagot>Matagot that sometimes takes the form of a cat, and it seems to fit more with the theme of the story.

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    • Mmpratt99 deviantart wrote:
      DrBobSmith wrote:  Only if they are Russian Wikkans. :-) I don't know of an appropriate Wikkan theme cat goddess, but then I don't know Wikkan stuff. You may need to do a bit of research.

      Please feel free to use Wikkan Wanna Be Witch.

      Thank you. I was looking up French folklore, and there's an evil creature called a matagot or mandagot>Matagot that sometimes takes the form of a cat, and it seems to fit more with the theme of the story.

      In regards to what Bob said about wiccans. You can look up neopagan religions, see how silly some of them look (for example; there's this cult that genuinely believes the egyptian god Set is where "Satan" originates, even though both terms were used by different peoples to describe different things during the same time period - Set has to do with the words for red and desert in ancient Egypt while Satan means adversary in ancient Hebrew) and come up with your own sort of neo pagan cult that worships cats or something. 

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    • It was Jacquelyn's turn to hold the Lughnasadh Tea Ritual. With careful attention, she prepared the buffet-style table with clean tableware and matching tea service. She properly baked a tidy assortment of Lammas loaf owls and Corn King cakes, and Goddess scones, and made the savory finger-sandwiches, even cutting off the crusts for the fussier guests. And the water was on the porcelain enamel stove waiting for her to turn on the heat once her fellow Wiccans arrived. As she puttered around, meticulously checking off her list of formal arrangements, Jacquelyn worried about whether anyone would notice that she was using bovine milk rather than licorne cream [licorne cream? I don’t know what this is and I can’t find anything on google] and if Phoebe would still be angry about what happened last time (when Jacquelyn’s little aspie brother randomly mailed out the party notices and invited half of the neighborhood), and were the sandwiches elegant enough to make up for using just plain three-tiered cake stands, or would they gossip about her store-bought brand afterwards like they'd gossip about Murielle's... and then she noticed the cat in the garden again. [<- this sentence is ~100 words long. It desperately needs breaking up.]

      The cat had been skulking about the place for a while. Jacquelyn considered shooing it away. It was a mangy looking thing—[I think you should keep things simple and just say “mangy looking thing with matted…] matted blue-black fur clinging to its wiry, whippet like form. It looked diseased, flea-infested, zombie-like even. On any other day, Jacquelyn wouldn't even have bothered [doing what?]. [She] Would even have thrown some table scraps to it. But tonight was the Lughnasadh Tea, and she didn't want to put the coven into yet another awkward situation. [what awkward situation?]

      Sighing, the wannabe teen witch stepped outside with the [her] broom. Then she halted because the cat was sauntering towards her, smiling very broadly like the Cheshire one in the story. [So either say “like a Chesire cat” because people know that reference and it’s easy to follow. Or, say “like the Cheshire one from Alice in Wonderland” because that’s you explaining the reference, which is fine. But as it is it’s like you take the time to let us know it’s Cheshire cat from a story but not which story which just feels weird. .]

      [Consider rewriting: When she saw the cat sauntering towards her, smiling very broadly like a Cheshire cat, she halted.]

      "Do you often keep your guests waiting for quite so long?" Its voice grated like a rusty gate hinge.

      Jacquelyn paused in mid-sweep momentarily taken aback, but she recovered swiftly.

      "Oooh, nice one guys,” she said, glancing around the dimly-lite [lit] garden, “you really had me going for a minute!"

      Stifling a snorting chuckle [bit confusing, maybe simplify a little], she turned back to the cat. “Oh,no!” [space] exclaimed Jacquelyn, feigning absolute mortification. “I'm so sorry, but there's been a miscommunication. Due to the venue size, we're keeping the guest list quite small. This means we just do not have room to fit everybody on the list. I'm so sorry that we can't extend an invitation, and even more sorry about this miscommunication. I hope you can understand."

      “Oh, well, no matter,” the cat carelessly replied. “I’m quite sure your tea room’s big enough to accommodate up to three hundred guests very comfortably.”

      "Uh huh.” Jacquelyn smirked and said, “Sure, Pal” [Sure, pal.] she looked around the garden again, then continued, “But alas, I only have room for like twenty.”

      The cat sat on it [its] haunches, yellowish eyes and teeth gleaming in the porch lights.

      After a moment of uncomfortable silence, Jacquelyn responded, “Yeah, twenty of my best fashionable, A-list, Celeb-Sisters of the Goddess [<-I had to re-read this bit once or twice to understand what you were saying.] friends... who all know how to combine classic essentials of high fashion with the latest Pagan Society trends...and probably do a bit of punking on the side.”

      The cat still continued its unblinking stare and perpetual grin [so this is odd because it’s a little redundant but also you’re just telling us that the cat doesn’t react. People tend not have blinking stares, so there’s not a huge need for you to explain to us that this particular stare is unblinking. Try trimming down the bit about the stare or replace it with a comment about the cat’s eerie eyes]. From the shadowy meadowy borders of the garden there came a faint stealthy rustle as if the dried autumn grass was being crushed under the pressure of soft but heavy footfalls.

      “Okay, like seriously holy fuck, how are you doing this trick!” Jacquelyn shouted to the surrounding privet hedges. “Cause it’s really seriously freaking me out! Someone slipped this here cat some shrooms, LSD or something? It’s like... so majorly tripping out here. ”

      The night was silent, apart from the faint rustling of grass and dried leaves [you’ve used this imagery recently, try putting something else here], and the deep, purring thunder [I like this] at her feet.

      “Ugh, fine,” Jacquelyn muttered as she turned to go inside. “This is like getting like, totally old fast... SO five minutes ago!”

      Behind her, the steady purr deepened to a growl growing quickly to a snarl. Jacquelyn froze, the broom falling from her limp fingers to clatter to [and clattering on] the floor. Then she felt a sharp prickling on the back of her neck and a sibilant whisper in her ear, “The Old Gods are not to art mocked. Thou cannot deceive us, and we wilt not permit thou to mock us withal pretended instead of real services.”

      Jacquelyn spun around with a gasp—wide-eyed—mouth gaping. The porch was empty. In her mind she was screaming, but no sound passed her lips.

      Then she stared incredulously, mouth falling further agape as the garden swarmed with a feline horde. They moved like a wave up the gravel drive toward the mansion, flowing over the masonry walls and topiary hedges and erasing all signs of lawn. The air soon filled with a shrill trilling and incessant meowing.

      Her left eye began to twitch uncontrollably as the whole pack surged over the threshold, whiskers twitching [you’ve used twitch twice here]; eyes glinting with slyness and hungry [hunger].

      Within just a few minutes, the cats were inside fighting over the banquet and Jacquelyn's remains while a pack of feral dogs slunk a safe distance away, drooling and whining in frustration.

      As it was, the helpings proved generous, and by the time everyone finished, they were completely sated.

      -

      Mechanical issues – some, I’ve pointed out the ones I caught but nothing major.

      Style issues – some stilted wording and odd flow. I think just reading your work aloud might help you catch issues with flow.

      Plot issues – fine. I didn’t see anything wrong with it. Girl prepares ceremony, pisses off a god, said god appears as a cat and summons a hoard of cats to eat her. Works fine by me. I wouldn’t over think the details on something like this. Although I would ask a few questions when revisiting this:

      Are we meant to like this girl?

      Is she meant to appear incompetent?

      Are we meant to assume she’s a real witch? Or a wannabe?

      How old is she? (this is just for scene setting)

      Does she know any legitimate magic, or is this just a case of some friends having fun?

      Telegraphing the above points will, I think, help alleviate some of the criticism in this story. The way I interpreted this story was: this girl is an incompetent wannabe and she angers the god with her wanton and childish imitation of real wiccan practices that go back for thousands and thousands of years. If that’s not how you want this character received, you might wanna consider adjusting things. Otherwise, I think clearing up the above points will make it clear that the specific details of which wiccan practice or French cult she hails from don’t actually matter. If the story is about an inauthentic wiccan, then the details of her ritual should also be inauthentic.

      Also you’re fine with the talking cat. She’s a witch holding a broom and an ominous black cat appears. Sabrina and Hocus Pocus laid the groundwork for this. I wouldn’t worry about confusing your audience with it.

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    • I'm having trouble editing this. It keeps reverting to the old copy.

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    • Mmpratt99 deviantart wrote: I'm having trouble editing this. It keeps reverting to the old copy.

      A lot of times it won't let you publish a new edit unless you hit space or enter or something first. Try that. It's one of those frustrating things about MediaWiki forums.

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    • HopelessNightOwl wrote: A lot of times it won't let you publish a new edit unless you hit space or enter or something first. Try that. It's one of those frustrating things about MediaWiki forums.

      Okay, I'll try it. Thank you.

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    • ChristianWallis wrote:

      It was Jacquelyn's turn to hold the Lughnasadh Tea Ritual. With careful attention, she prepared the buffet-style table with clean tableware and matching tea service. She properly baked a tidy assortment of Lammas loaf owls and Corn King cakes, and Goddess scones, and made the savory finger-sandwiches, even cutting off the crusts for the fussier guests. And the water was on the porcelain enamel stove waiting for her to turn on the heat once her fellow Wiccans arrived. As she puttered around, meticulously checking off her list of formal arrangements, Jacquelyn worried about whether anyone would notice that she was using bovine milk rather than licorne cream [licorne cream? I don’t know what this is and I can’t find anything on google] and if Phoebe would still be angry about what happened last time (when Jacquelyn’s little aspie brother randomly mailed out the party notices and invited half of the neighborhood), and were the sandwiches elegant enough to make up for using just plain three-tiered cake stands, or would they gossip about her store-bought brand afterwards like they'd gossip about Murielle's... and then she noticed the cat in the garden again. [<- this sentence is ~100 words long. It desperately needs breaking up.]

      The cat had been skulking about the place for a while. Jacquelyn considered shooing it away. It was a mangy looking thing—[I think you should keep things simple and just say “mangy looking thing with matted…] matted blue-black fur clinging to its wiry, whippet like form. It looked diseased, flea-infested, zombie-like even. On any other day, Jacquelyn wouldn't even have bothered [doing what?]. [She] Would even have thrown some table scraps to it. But tonight was the Lughnasadh Tea, and she didn't want to put the coven into yet another awkward situation. [what awkward situation?]

      Sighing, the wannabe teen witch stepped outside with the [her] broom. Then she halted because the cat was sauntering towards her, smiling very broadly like the Cheshire one in the story. [So either say “like a Chesire cat” because people know that reference and it’s easy to follow. Or, say “like the Cheshire one from Alice in Wonderland” because that’s you explaining the reference, which is fine. But as it is it’s like you take the time to let us know it’s Cheshire cat from a story but not which story which just feels weird. .]

      [Consider rewriting: When she saw the cat sauntering towards her, smiling very broadly like a Cheshire cat, she halted.]

      "Do you often keep your guests waiting for quite so long?" Its voice grated like a rusty gate hinge.

      Jacquelyn paused in mid-sweep momentarily taken aback, but she recovered swiftly.

      "Oooh, nice one guys,” she said, glancing around the dimly-lite [lit] garden, “you really had me going for a minute!"

      Stifling a snorting chuckle [bit confusing, maybe simplify a little], she turned back to the cat. “Oh,no!” [space] exclaimed Jacquelyn, feigning absolute mortification. “I'm so sorry, but there's been a miscommunication. Due to the venue size, we're keeping the guest list quite small. This means we just do not have room to fit everybody on the list. I'm so sorry that we can't extend an invitation, and even more sorry about this miscommunication. I hope you can understand."

      “Oh, well, no matter,” the cat carelessly replied. “I’m quite sure your tea room’s big enough to accommodate up to three hundred guests very comfortably.”

      "Uh huh.” Jacquelyn smirked and said, “Sure, Pal” [Sure, pal.] she looked around the garden again, then continued, “But alas, I only have room for like twenty.”

      The cat sat on it [its] haunches, yellowish eyes and teeth gleaming in the porch lights.

      After a moment of uncomfortable silence, Jacquelyn responded, “Yeah, twenty of my best fashionable, A-list, Celeb-Sisters of the Goddess [<-I had to re-read this bit once or twice to understand what you were saying.] friends... who all know how to combine classic essentials of high fashion with the latest Pagan Society trends...and probably do a bit of punking on the side.”

      The cat still continued its unblinking stare and perpetual grin [so this is odd because it’s a little redundant but also you’re just telling us that the cat doesn’t react. People tend not have blinking stares, so there’s not a huge need for you to explain to us that this particular stare is unblinking. Try trimming down the bit about the stare or replace it with a comment about the cat’s eerie eyes]. From the shadowy meadowy borders of the garden there came a faint stealthy rustle as if the dried autumn grass was being crushed under the pressure of soft but heavy footfalls.

      “Okay, like seriously holy fuck, how are you doing this trick!” Jacquelyn shouted to the surrounding privet hedges. “Cause it’s really seriously freaking me out! Someone slipped this here cat some shrooms, LSD or something? It’s like... so majorly tripping out here. ”

      The night was silent, apart from the faint rustling of grass and dried leaves [you’ve used this imagery recently, try putting something else here], and the deep, purring thunder [I like this] at her feet.

      “Ugh, fine,” Jacquelyn muttered as she turned to go inside. “This is like getting like, totally old fast... SO five minutes ago!”

      Behind her, the steady purr deepened to a growl growing quickly to a snarl. Jacquelyn froze, the broom falling from her limp fingers to clatter to [and clattering on] the floor. Then she felt a sharp prickling on the back of her neck and a sibilant whisper in her ear, “The Old Gods are not to art mocked. Thou cannot deceive us, and we wilt not permit thou to mock us withal pretended instead of real services.”

      Jacquelyn spun around with a gasp—wide-eyed—mouth gaping. The porch was empty. In her mind she was screaming, but no sound passed her lips.

      Then she stared incredulously, mouth falling further agape as the garden swarmed with a feline horde. They moved like a wave up the gravel drive toward the mansion, flowing over the masonry walls and topiary hedges and erasing all signs of lawn. The air soon filled with a shrill trilling and incessant meowing.

      Her left eye began to twitch uncontrollably as the whole pack surged over the threshold, whiskers twitching [you’ve used twitch twice here]; eyes glinting with slyness and hungry [hunger].

      Within just a few minutes, the cats were inside fighting over the banquet and Jacquelyn's remains while a pack of feral dogs slunk a safe distance away, drooling and whining in frustration.

      As it was, the helpings proved generous, and by the time everyone finished, they were completely sated.

      -

      Mechanical issues – some, I’ve pointed out the ones I caught but nothing major.

      Style issues – some stilted wording and odd flow. I think just reading your work aloud might help you catch issues with flow.

      Plot issues – fine. I didn’t see anything wrong with it. Girl prepares ceremony, pisses off a god, said god appears as a cat and summons a hoard of cats to eat her. Works fine by me. I wouldn’t over think the details on something like this. Although I would ask a few questions when revisiting this:

      Are we meant to like this girl?

      Is she meant to appear incompetent?

      Are we meant to assume she’s a real witch? Or a wannabe?

      How old is she? (this is just for scene setting)

      Does she know any legitimate magic, or is this just a case of some friends having fun?

      Telegraphing the above points will, I think, help alleviate some of the criticism in this story. The way I interpreted this story was: this girl is an incompetent wannabe and she angers the god with her wanton and childish imitation of real wiccan practices that go back for thousands and thousands of years. If that’s not how you want this character received, you might wanna consider adjusting things. Otherwise, I think clearing up the above points will make it clear that the specific details of which wiccan practice or French cult she hails from don’t actually matter. If the story is about an inauthentic wiccan, then the details of her ritual should also be inauthentic.

      Also you’re fine with the talking cat. She’s a witch holding a broom and an ominous black cat appears. Sabrina and Hocus Pocus laid the groundwork for this. I wouldn’t worry about confusing your audience with it.


      Okay, I followed your editing advice and it's finished for another review.

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