I have loved cats since I was a child. My dad gave me a kitten when I was six—a small black, gentle cat. She would follow me around the house waiting for me to sit down so she could clamber onto my lap and purr. Since then I have never been without a cat. Even at University I found a cat to love—a black tom who lived in the halls of residence. He would slip into my room and sleep on my bed and when I left the University and set up my own home, the first thing I acquired was a cat. I have three cats now. My eldest cat is a grumpy granddad of a cat who loves to sleep in the warmest place he can find to rest his aching bones. Flower and Miu-Miu are much younger—a brother and sister we found in a rescue home. They love it when I write; as soon as they at my keyboard, Willow settles himself under the radiator in my study and Flower curls up on the chair behind me, while Miu-Miu lounges across my desk pressing the keys with his paws with every languorous stretch. They graciously share their home with my partner Geoff and my seven-year-old son, Joshua, who love them almost as much as I do. Although our three cats are soft kittypets, I know that a night, while I’m tucked up in bed, they go out exploring a world all their own. Writing Warriors gives me the chance to imagine that world. I used to worry about my cats, out alone in the dark. But the ThunderClan cats have taught me that there is nothing for them to fear, only adventures to be enjoyed.