Her irises had the texture of reptile scales, like small circles of crinkled foil or thin flakes of gold. They burned a radioactive, liquid, lime green that morphed into a murky mustard shade of yellow with the changing sunlight. Even her dense, muddy pupils were hypnotic with their way of dilating and stretching to inky black saucers when she was excited and shrinking to tiny, devilish slits when she was angry. She stood at five foot seven, a few inches shorter than myself with the slender body of a woman but the long, swishing tail and soft, fluffy head of a cat…

Extract from Feline by Sophie McNaughton.