Her '65 Silver Barracuda

Tuesday howls and yowls, shapeshifter lovers. Happy Sun in Gemini.

Today's flash is a spinoff of Pat's flash scene from yesterday. I just couldn't resist.
~~~~~~

Her '65 Silver Barracuda

Katsuz shook inside, apprehensive. Yet, she'd made up her cat mind to follow Gypsy Red Wolf's advice, to get out and meet the were, shifter, and supernatural folks of Talbot's Peak.

Surprised her hand wasn't trembling, Katsuz reached for the soft-fabric tarp, gradually pulling until her '65 silver Barracuda had been revealed. The muscle car, not as popular as a Ford Mustang, had been the only thing she'd kept from her prior life -- when Katsuz believed she was merely human. When her life had been a series of mistakes, confusing missteps, constant mishaps, and years of downright freaking, effing hell.

Knowing Katsuz grooved on fast cars, Gypsy had suggested starting with Vernon McMahon's latest promotion venture, Classic Car Cruise Night. With a decided twinkle in her eye, the psychic wolf shifter ushered her inside the costume area they'd set up together, which included various types of sewing machines, and the huge collection of patterns they'd purchased via the internet.

Happily purring, Katsuz spent much of her time finding fabrics and trims for their dance costumes. Now, she searched for the mod mini-dress pattern, the one resembling the style she'd worn in her late teens, early twenties, when life's promise lay before her.

"Really, is this a good idea?" Katsuz muttered, placing the tarp on top of the good-sized metal chest in her small garage.

The sexy click of her white gogo boots on the concrete floor, the swing of her long hair against her back as she gave her head a shake... oh, and the fact that Katsuz craved a thick juicy hamburger with all the trimmings, and a real chocolate malt to top it off...

Katsuz pressed her palm to the hood, bringing the engine to rumbling life. She didn't take the barracuda out for a spin very often, but when she did she always charged it to full-purr power. On an empty highway, on the straightaway, she'd ease the accelerator all the way to the floorboard, and fly as far as the speedometer needle would go. And beyond.

After all, speed was a high, an aphrodisiac, and with no man in her life a feline woman had to make do with what pleasures life did offer.

***

Oh now, yowls help! Her hands shook on the steering wheel as she neared the town square where the Happy Days' fun event was taking place. Dammit meows, her whole body trembled.

Katsuz gulped in breaths while managing to keep her driving safe. Spying Dante on his Harley, she grinned. He'd dressed to imitate The Fonz. How perfect was that?

Oh, wowser powser, and a snap of her fingers, why not a werewolf and shapeshifter fifties musical? Or like the movie, American Graffiti? Or... already the costumes formed before her mind's eye.

Delicious meaty odors from the Grease ‘n’ Grill also came to her rescue, and Katsu glided the barracuda toward a spot between a 54 Chevy and a beetle bug, as she thought of the original Volkswagen.

Firming her chin, her resolve, and her spine, Katsuz launched out the door. The flirty feel of her silver mini-dress upped her confidence, and she gazed around.  What a happening scene, as her crowd would have said.

Sadness slid inside her heart as she thought of those she'd cared about back then. Being human, likely they suffered the so-called ravages of old age.

"Beautiful dancer," an admiring male voice spoke behind her.

Thinking she should recognize that rough-and-ready, deep timbre, Katsuz whipped around.  She frowned. No, his face wasn't familiar as one of the men who regularly watched her perform at the Pleasure Club.

"You don't remember, do you?" He approached with the latent power of a big cat. Only he was a muscle-sculpted big cat shifter encased in tight black leather.

The dark glitter of his unique eyes gave him away. Jolted by the memory, Katsuz took a step back, her butt pressing against the barracuda's door. "Brylla's little brother," she uttered before her throat constricted.

"Not so little anymore." His growled words were soft as velvet.

"No... not little," she inanely, breathlessly blurted out. "How is Brylla?"

"Married. Happy. Two little ones."

"I...I lost touch...since..."

"You left the rescue center for orphaned shapeshifters... or women who turn into catwoman like you. I do remember everything about you, Katsuz. I remember when you chose that name."

His intimate tone, his words, tingled through her. Tingles madly racing tingles, she decided. Mews, how much trouble was she in?

"What...what brings you to Talbot's Peak... besides the shapeshifting obvious?" she lamely finished, leaning back on her hands, the ones plastered to the barracuda's slick surface.

"Used cars." A grin teased the corners of his mouth.

"You sell used cars?" she asked, not quite able to envision him as a car salesman.

"Classic cars. I restore them. Looks like a new market has opened up."

"The Peak is growing."

 "Since I'm new around here, how about being my date?"

"You do move fast, Zhono."

"You like fast, Katsuz. You took me and Brylla for a drive on that winding road I'll never forget."

"Oh... oh, yeah. I did." Ungluing herself from her barracuda, Katsuz gave her hair a good toss. She might as well take charge, for once. "Okay, for tonight only. That is, as long as hamburgers and a chocolate malt are on the menu."

Zhono offered his hand. "Let me know when you want me on the menu," he drawled, amusement in his tone. 

~~~~~~


 
Wishing you shapeshifting love on the wild side… 

Savanna

Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance

Boys and Their Toys

Vernon McMahon beamed at the crowd wandering around the Talbot’s Peak town square, many of whom detoured into the Grease ‘n’ Grill. He squeezed Elly’s hand. “I’m telling you, baby, this is the best idea I’ve had since that time I offered raw meat.”

Elly shook her head, but even she had to admit Classic Car Cruise Night was a tremendous hit. She’d never seen so many gas-guzzlers and convertibles in her life. But then, she didn’t go around looking for any, unlike the car enthusiasts who’d turned out for her husband’s promotion. Nearly all of them were male, and nearly all of them had that same puppy-with-a-chew-toy look on their faces. A car was a car to Elly. It must be something carried on the Y chromosome.

“Holy cow, would you look at that Pontiac!” Vern exclaimed. “Get a couple paddles and you could float that boat down the river.”

“Oh my,” Elly gasped. She darted over to a vintage ‘60s VW Beetle, complete with windup key attached to the back. “I had one of these when I was Mary’s age. They’re so much cuter than the new ones.”

Vern hugged his wife against him. “Same reason you married me."

“Knock it off, you old wolf. People are watching.”

“No, they’re looking at the cars.” Like Vern. “I always wanted a street rod. Too bad the oil embargo hit around the time I got old enough to drive. It pretty much killed the car culture. I ended up with a pickup truck, like the rest of my unimaginative family.”

“You could get one now. A big boy toy. We can afford it.”

“You wouldn’t bleat?”

“Of course I will. Just not too loudly.” She grinned up at him. “I wouldn’t mind tooling around town in a classic convertible.” She broke off as a man and woman in their 40s ambled past them. The man had his hair in a greased-up DA, and the woman wore a pony tail and poodle skirt. “But not dressed like that.”

Vern just snickered. Quite a few of the attendees had opted to dress to the era. The square looked like a casting call for a Happy Days revival. Jaunty ‘50s rock and roll blasted from the ice cream shop, adding to the atmosphere. Like Vern’s diner, it and the other shops that had opened for Cruise Night were doing a brisk business.

“Does it bother you,” Vern said, “that you and I may be the only people here who actually remember the ‘50s?”

“Speak for yourself, old timer. I was just a lamb for most of it. The ‘60s were more my decade.” She stopped and nodded toward a vehicle more lounging than parked at the far end of the square. “And speaking of which … ”

Both grinning, they strolled toward the VW minibus painted in a swirl of psychedelic colors. “In A Gadda Da Vida” blasted out of a modern-sounding stereo system. On the sliding-door side in a lawn chair sat Lorelei, decked out in jeans and a t-shirt, with dandelions wound through her masses of hair and enough beads to start her own Mardi Gras parade. Her boyfriend Bobby made an acceptable, if big-footed, John Lennon. Digger the wolf stood by a portable grill, roasting veggies under his human girlfriend Laurie’s supervision. Digger and Laurie were dressed like Digger and Laurie. Not so Lamar, who’d gone full-on greaser with leather jacket and sinfully tight pants and his ebony hair styled to within an inch of its life. Rounding out the makeshift commune was Jamie, in his usual slacks and flannel and long-suffering grin.

Lorelei held up two fingers in a V sign. “Peace, dudes. Join the food-in.”

“Only if you tell me what that smell is.”

“Relax,” Digger said. “It’s cooking herbs only. I don’t grow recreational.” He nodded toward Lorelei and Bobby. “I can’t speak for the bunnies.”

“You’re looking authentic,” Elly said to Lamar. “Very stylish.”

“Protective coloring,” Lamar said. “The ‘50s were a dangerous decade for those of my persuasion. I won’t feel safe until the ‘70s swing around again. Ay!” He bolted out of his lawn chair as a blue Plymouth Fury growled past. “Was that Christine?”

“Don’t think so,” Jamie said. “Christine was red.”

“I hate haunted cars.” He hopped into Jamie’s lap. “Hold me.”

“Hey, Pops,” Digger said to Vern, “you look like you’re from the era. You want to explain the fins to me?”

“They’re spiffy.”

“Is that even a word?”

“It was in my day. Show some respect for the machinery, puppy.”

“Uh-huh.” Digger suddenly froze with his spatula half-under the carrot slices. “Oh, that is sweet.”

They all turned to look at the immaculate Mustang purring its supercharged way into a nearby parking space. The door swung open and Ziva got out, done up to Pink Lady perfection: black Capris tight as a coat of paint, scoop-neck blouse, killer heels, a kerchief around her neck in the same scarlet shade as her lips. Nick slouched out of the passenger seat and fell in at heel. He hardly rated a glance.

“You’d better be talking about the car,” Laurie said to Digger.

“Shoot,” Jamie said. He got up, dumping Lamar off his lap. “Better get back to work. I’m supposed to be shooting photos of the cars.” He scurried off in the opposite direction with Lamar clinging to his arm.

“Quite a crowd, Dad,” Nick said, following introductions. He was trying his damnedest not to scowl at his father holding hands with a herbivore. Ziva jostled him with her elbow and stepped over to check out Digger’s food. He didn’t growl, but Laurie did, very softly.

“You offering prizes?” Nick asked.

“A coupon good for two free meals at the Grease ‘n’ Grill for the most authentic car. This isn’t a contest. It’s for funsies.”

Nick looked around, more at the people than the rides. “I didn’t know so many shifters were into street rods.”

“Yeah, well … ”

“Let’s be honest,” Elly said. “Most of them are human. We picked up a lot of the raceway crowd from down by the exit. Word got around, and … ” She shrugged.

“Dante’s not pissed, is he?” Vern said in a low growl.

“Are you kidding? He’s been looking for some way to ease contact. It just happens you lucked into it. If there’s one thing human and shifter males can agree on, it’s cars. Oh dear dog,” he added, suddenly panting. “Is that a Corvette? I have got to check that out.”

Nick trotted off, followed by Vern, Bobby and Digger. Laurie took over the grill. “I don’t get it,” she said to Elly. “It’s a car. What’s the big deal?”

"Well," Ziva said, "there's always the back seat."

Laurie smiled and nodded. In fact, there were smiles and nods all around. Over at the ice cream shop, the soundtrack kicked into “Little Deuce Coupe.”

I went, I saw, I be back

This going to be short and sweet dear readers.  I'm finally recovering from a bout of food poisoning, the flu, migraines, and allergies that may have caught me a minor cold.  This said I enjoyed RT BOOK LOVERS CONVENTION.  I had a list that I checked twice.  Plans made and workshops decided.  

Well plans changed and lets say, I spent time resting rather than running and doing.  Wonderful things came out of the trip.  I won a publishing contract for a novel I entered in RT American "Idol" the Writer's competition.  I took first prize in the erotic romance section for a novel I'm finishing up over the next few months, Three Princes for Sienna.  As soon as I know more, I'll share.

I pitched another novel to an agent and one of the big 6 out of New York.  Agent asked for full and publisher partial.  I also got asked about what else I had available.

I'm busy writing and polishing these larger undertakings along with working on a couple of stories for Siren.  One is set in Cascade Bay.  The other is a nearby town going by the name of Cameron Shores.

Alas we did not get a picture of this year's basket winner.  I hope they enjoy the books, stuffed animals, and other goodies the basket held.  Well, I'm off to write and hope to have a serial started that I'll post here as well as on my personal blog.  I'll let you know when the first post is up and ready.


Until next week, share a good book or two with your spice and loves.  I know I will be!


Smiles,

Solara

Reaching Out

Happy Friday!  Once again, I'm attempting to train Mz. Muse to write from the gut and turn off the internal editor she leans on so heavily, so please forgive the blatant oopsies.  ;)  Also, don't forget about Rebecca's Caption This contest on Wednesday's post.  She's showing off one of her awesome works of art and would love for someone to name it.  Join the fun and maybe win a prize.  :)

~~~

“Shush!” The whizz and slap of the ruler hitting Nick’s bare pectoral made her want to squirm, but a good teacher kept control at all times. “Teacher is speaking.  Now then, you will recite for me the Preamble to the US Constitution.  I’ll even start you out since I am a good teacher.  We the people…”

Ziva used the tip of the ruler to trace a heart over the center of Nick’s naked chest, then around each nipple.  The distraction would do nothing to hinder her man in remembering the rest of the words; it would, however, be a load of fun for her.

“…of the United States, in order to…”

“Yes, in order to what?”  Yep, he remembered the same thing he had in High School Civics class.  Of course, then he was all the shite so it didn’t matter if he knew the Preamble and now, she was banking on his continued disinterest in human history in order to get down to the nitty gritty punishment she’d been fantasizing about of late.  This ruler and him bent over the desk she currently sat on—firm cheeks bared and ready to blush.

“Um, not sure.  Sorry teach.”  The twinkle in his eye told her he wasn’t at all sorry, but then she’d not expected him to be.  This was a game where fun was had by all.

“You know what happens now, young man.”  Ziva stood, sliding the bunched up fabric of her school uniform skirt back down her legs and moved to the side of his chair.  “Assume the position.”

She watched as he stood, adjusting the already stiff source of her endless pleasure and going for the buckle of his belt.  Soon he’d be flashing her, his world class ass and giving credence to all those desk humping rumors.  What people failed to realize was that after a few good swats it was she who came between Nick and the wood desk and the pounding they’d hear…well let’s just say she was never disappointed.

##

“Yes, Ms Wilk.”  The Preamble, it always came down to the Preamble for Ziva.  Probably because of the humiliating day in Civics class where he’d choked in front of the class, more concerned about them not seeing the Blessings of Liberty he’d been packing in his pants for the sassy she sitting in front of him, tormenting him with her scent and those short skirts.  Even now she had the best legs in town and her scent still drove him nuts.

Nick opened his pants and had pushed them to the top of his hips when someone knocked at his door.  “Bloody Lupa, someone wants to die today.”

“Don’t kill them; just fire them for the day.”

He shrugged his shirt back on, but refused to button his pants when zipping had proved to require much concentration.  No worse buzz kill than to get your junk pinched in a zipper.  “Come!”

Daisy, the gazettes new intern entered, saw them at the desk and promptly blushed from the tips of her ears right on down to the tips of her toes if he were to bet. “I’m sorry, um, I.  That is to say, Ms. Jorgensson told me you were both in here and that I should go right in, but knocking is polite so I…I’m so sorry.”

“Button up.”  Ziva said, as she slipped the unused ruler back in the drawer much to his frustration.  “No apologies necessary, Daisy.  Penny should have check with us first!”

“Mistress to you Z.” Penelope responded around the door she shut giving them privacy.

The sexual interplay between his lover and his assistant filled the air like a fine mist, heavy and wet; he could almost reach out and touch the desire.  Someday, if his wolf relaxed enough with others around his mate, he would have to indulge in the pleasure of watching these two strong ladies make each other weak.  Today, however, he had an intern to deal with.

“Please sit, Daisy.  Tell me what we can do for you?”  Quick was preferable so he could attempt to get back to the role playing.

“Well, one of the last classes I took at school talked about the immense benefits to be gained by engaging in social media.  So I was thinking, perhaps, we could create a presence for not just the Gazette, but the whole town of Talbot’s Peak.”

Nick’s gut clenched at the thought of anything social media related and this town.  They were trying to stay incognito here, not loud and proud.  Why would she think advertising to outsiders about their town was a good idea?  “No.”

“Um, well…”

“Jeez, Nicky, rude much?”  Ziva scolded.  “Daisy, dear, tell us more.”

“Okay, well since paranormal fiction, er, mostly romance is such a huge thing these days I thought we could play on that by coming up with a name to encompass the whole of the town and the people in it.  I was thinking, Shapeshifter Seductions.  It would tease the senses with sex and the possibility of the paranormal.  We already have the ‘unicorn’ rumor and the towns around us already think we’re weird or vampires.  All kinds of new businesses are opening up in town lately, heck I heard that Manscape Mik, er, Mike was even thinking of opening a grill.  Bringing people in would help us all stay in business.”

“No!”

“Shut up, Nicholas.  Well thought out, Daisy.  Now tell me, what social media places were you thinking of?”

“Well a blog, of course, then a Facebook page would be good, and since it’s so beautiful here a Pinterest board is a must.  Maybe Twitter if anyone from town would like to tweet.  On the off chance you were interested I’ve already set up all but the twitter acct.”

Nick grabbed the sheet of paper she slid onto the desk and looked down at the list.

Blog: http://shapeshifterseductions.blogspot.com/

Facebook:  Shapeshifter Seductions Page

Pinterest: http://pinterest.com/kougarroar/

Shite, they were officially on the map and he’d have to bring it to Dante’s attention.  While his wolf was categorically against bringing outsiders to Talbot’s Peak, there was a small portion of his educated brain that agreed with Daisy and thought her idea was sound.  Talbot’s Peak was growing and would need fresh sources of income to continue.  Unfortunately, he had some idea how the others would take the news and pretty was not a word he’d use for the fall out.

“Nick, stop that right now!”

Stop what?  He looked up from the paper only to find the gentle doe cowering in the corner and his mate facing him in front of her.  He was growling.  Not at the young lady, but at the idea of what he had to do.  It didn’t even register that his growl would be construed as menacing to a deer in the same room.

Nick moved around the desk and crouched before the intern.  “Daisy, I’m sorry, sweetheart.  I wasn’t thinking when I growled.  Please come out from there and we’ll talk more about your idea.  Much as I hate to admit it, there is merit in a plan like this.”

“You really like it?”

 “I think you are wise to bring it to my attention, but I will need some time to consider the next step.”

“Come, dear.”  Ziva helped the girl rise and headed away from him.  “Let’s leave Nick to his ruminations and go have lunch.  We’ll even invite Penny and I’ll make her watch me each chicken wings for lunch.”

He grinned at the thought of the trio at his old man’s grill.  Penny would pay, that was for sure.  “Ziva, later?” “Perhaps next week.  It’ll give you a chance to study.”

Her wink was salacious as always.  Maybe next week he’s turn the tables and recite the entire preamble that he knew by heart.  Teacher would become his student with one bright red ass.
~~~

May your social mediaing be fun and fruitful!  And your weekend, long and fulfilling!


Serena

"Caption This" contest with a prize!

We interupt this regularly scheduled post... because I can't find the flash drive I saved it on. And I didn't want to wing it because it's a very carefully written out sceen of Manscape Mike trying to convince Digger to grow him some giant eggplants. Instead, you guys are getting my usual go-to post for when I don't got nuthin' else: pictures. Specifically, one of my own original 3D art. The person who comes up with the best title for it wins a $5 gift certificate to the e-book seller of thier choice! Contest closes at Midnight Sunday. Let the brain storming begin!

~Rebecca

...undisturbed by his presence in their territory...

Tuesday yowls and howls, shapeshifter lovers.

In this flash scene I continue from last week's flash, Spinning at hyper-speed... in the flames... and the god serpent...

However, only my Djinn-human hero stars, along with Dante and White Fang, in this scene about protecting Talbot's Peak from the perils of portals.
~~~~~~ 

...undisturbed by his presence in their territory...

Quite enjoying the atmospheric Old English Pub inside Dante's Pleasure Club complex, Dunkirk paused moments to have a look around. A smile tugged at his lips as he strode toward the alpha werewolf, who raised a pint of ale in silent welcome. 

The super wolf reporter for the G&B Gazette, White Fang, was seated opposite Dante. He followed suit, saluting with his tall pint, his manner friendly. It boded well for his scheduled meeting with them, that both wolf shifters appeared to be undisturbed by his presence in their territory.

Dunkirk remained cautious given previous dust-ups with shapeshifter alphas. In no mood for a brawl that would no doubt require the use of his Djinn powers, if he was to escape unscathed, Dunkirk respectfully halted a small distance from Dante's personal booth, located at the rear of the pub.

"Gentlemen, as I'm certain you know, I am Dunkirk Valmorth. I requested this appointment because I have been informed you are two of Talbot's Peak's head honchos, as they say."

With an wavering gaze that could have stopped a bull elephant's charge, Dante gave a slight nod. "Have a seat. Join us, Mr. Valmorth. Djinn, am I correct?"

"Half Djinn, yes. Will that be a hindrance to our conversation?" Dunkirk hesitated. He wanted no enmity since his intention was to remain beside Princess Kzelle, and convince her to become his bride.

"We won't bite. Not unless you give us cause." White Fang's drily spoken words were followed by a wry grin.

"Ah, yes." Dunkirk placed his palm e-reader on the table, angling the device in a manner that allowed both Dante and White Fang to view it. "Address me as Dunkirk, if you will," he continued, seating himself on the booth's bench seat as Dante indicated.

White Fang raised his dark brows high, and leaned forward. "Brighton resident ‘discovers vortex to another dimension, complete with giant snake." He spoke the headline from the Metro UK news article displayed on the small screen.

"...a wormhole or vortex has opened up on Montreal Road," Dante read in his low gravelly timbre.

"Quite." With a nod of thanks, Dunkirk accepted the pint of dark ale White Fang pushed toward him. "This is my way of introducing what I wish to reveal. As you might already be aware of, vortexes are opening across the planet. In point of fact..."

"In point of fact," White Fang repeated, aiming his steely blue-eyed gaze straight at Dunkirk.

After a swallow of the ale, which was surprisingly superb, Dunkirk answered. "One of my abilities is opening a temporary portal for travel. Only accomplished with correct timing, I assure you. However, I arrived close to your fair town by splitting the etheric curtain."

"You must be a smooth operator, Dunkirk." Dante cracked a momentary grin, then leaned back with deceptive ease. "We detected no disturbance in the force."

Resisting the urge to ask if his presence had been detected, Dunkirk took another healthy swallow of the ale. "Magnificent flavor. A ye olde recipe, correct?"

"The Goddess Moon favors us. We have several master brewers in our fair town."

As Dante savored several swallows, seemingly to emphasize his words, Dunkirk mused on the eclectic gathering of supernaturals. Of course, he'd discover these master brewers because of his own interest in the merits of fine ale. He'd possessed little opportunity to investigate the populace since arriving, his first mission to protect Kzelle.

"We are aware of natural portals being activated by the change in cosmic frequencies,"  White Fang prompted, eyeing Dunkirk like a reporter. "So far, no giant snakes."

"What if I told you I observed a giant serpent god?" Dunkirk laid the gauntlet down, deciding there was no advantage in any other tactic.

Dante nearly launched across the table, his eyes glowing, feral. With their gazes inches apart, he demanded, "What did you see?"

Dunkirk obliged, providing a full description of what had occurred a mere few days ago, when he and the Princess had been witness to the shapeshifter stampede, and the chase by Quetzalcoatl's offspring.

Once he finished, a blanket of silence wrapped around them, and the three of them nursed their ales.

"You believe me, don't you?" Dunkirk broke the silence.

"Yeah, I do." Dante settled back, his gaze darkened by concern.  "My Kitty sighted 'the nude serpent man' when he first hit town. Didn't realize his god pedigree. There's been no scat-whiff of a problem, so it's stayed in the back of my mind."

"There's been a couple of rumors floating around about a winged serpent. Never could track them down -- find a reliable source." White Fang shoved his empty glass to the side. "Pasha did warn me. Said she sensed another god, other than Lex."

"Why don't you have a tête-à-tête with our snake buddy, Lamar. If anyone knows, I'll bet an elk steak he does." Dante signaled for a server.

"Get right on it. Question is, do I write an expose'? Or, let it ride awhile, discover more details?"

"Let it ride awhile, ace reporter. I want to know how dangerous this Quetzalcoatl serpent is before putting the fear of god into everyone."

White Fang rumbled a chuckle. "You know Nick, he'll gnaw on my hide if he finds out I let this one slide."

"Nick and I will come to a mutual werewolf understanding. Another round, Dunkirk?"  Dante asked, as the beta werewolf arrived at their table.

"Don't mind if I do, gentlemen." Dunkirk eased his posture, their good will toward him obvious.

Once the server departed, Dante eyed him with wolf-fierce intensity. "I take it you know your way around vortexes, portals. Some say stargates."

"I do. It's part of my heritage. How may I be of assistance?" Dunkirk decided this was his ticket to becoming part of the pack.

"We have patrols monitoring two vortex sites. Why don't you investigate? Tell us what we don't know."

Dunkirk retrieved his palm e-reader, slipping it in his side pocket. "Certainly. I must explain my first duty is protecting Princess Kzelle, as I have promised her brother."

"Understood." Dante passed around the pints the server had placed before him. "White Fang has been keeping watch on our inter-dimensional stargate. We have off world visitors."

"I see. My family has off world connections. There is another problem you must be aware of. The evil ones who seek power from realms where the most hideous creatures abide."

"Yeah," Dante growled, "the black arts' magicians are performing blood rituals worldwide. The scat fools are summoning demon beasts from other dimensions. Already chased a few Satanists out of our forest."
~~~~~~

Here's the link to the real article Dunkirk shows Dante and White Fang on his palm device ~

Brighton resident ‘discovers vortex to another dimension, complete with giant snake’
By Jimmy Nsubuga    Monday 13 May 2013 3:54 pm

~metro.co.uk/2013/05/13/brighton-resident-discovers-vortex-to-another-dimension-3757346~

Brighton could be the centre of an invasion from dimension-hopping snakes if a report from a resident that a wormhole exists in the city is anything to go by.
~~~~~~

 
Wishing you shapeshifting love on the wild side… 

Savanna

Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance