Tuesday, March 3, 2015

Meeting of the Pointy Ears


March howls and yowls, shapeshifter lovers.

Wow, what a hellacious day! For the sake of time, yours and mine. I won't go into details. ~but, I'm still shaking my head~

Anyway, somehow I wrote a flash scene today that I hope you enjoy.

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Meeting of the Pointy Ears

Blade Runner, ET rabbit warrior, zipped through the early morning Montana skies in his scout space craft. He tested out a rudimentary device he'd been able to procure on Earth, due to Dante's always sharp lookout for such advanced tech.

To be hoppity, carrot-crunching real, it had been the AI assassin, Kalina, who discovered the Tesla-tech treasure while scanning the depths of what Earthers called the dark net. With the help of Dante's cousin, Zortega, the small ET woman had easily settled into life at the Pleasure Complex.

She'd immediately taken over the bank of computers in the concealed room surrounded by a Faraday cage, which was near Dante's office-den. Given digital-age complexities and dangers now ruled much of life, Kalina had swiftly gained the alpha wolf's ear. And trust.

Because Blade Runner was another extraterrestrial, and had assisted in rescuing her from the cold, miserable streets of Chicago -- where she'd been abandoned... Kalina -- once she sized him up – had flung herself at him, hugging him with her little arms. Blade Runner had never felt anything quite like it, even with all of his previous lovers, and his current one and only love, Xakara, a fae fox shifter.

That is, after Kalina had clung to Zortega and shivered the whole flight back to the Pleasure Club. Which had been lengthened by several black-ops attacks. Three of their disc fighters had given chase -- mere fun and games for Blade Runner. He'd relished every moment of the battle-evasion, using his trickster wiles to return to the subterranean complex safely. And untracked.

Once Kalina gained her confidence, they'd become natural confidantes, even though their races had never made contact. Now he had an ally who possessed the ability to search out underground, black-market tech. And true to his/her/its word, Anonymous had delivered the untraceable package to the Talbot's Peak post office, unobserved.

Satisfied with the performance of said tech, so far, Blade Runner tapped in some quick adjustments, then banked hard. Yep, and 'what's up doc', give whomever a crispy organic salad. The craft's flight speed increased by twenty-one percent with a nary a blip of a problem. Huge numbers when it came to surviving enemy encounters.

Blade Runner swooped low over the mountain range where several castles had been built by those who had made Talbot's Peak territory home. Hidden by the craggy spires of rock, some enhanced by holo projections, the castles were recognizable to his eye.

In his preferred human-rabbit form, Blade Runner wiggled his long ears, a sign of his enjoyment. He checked the craft's invisibility cloak, then shot straight up. Might as well put his beloved little ship through her paces.

"What's up doc?" A male voice behind him spoke.

With his heart trip-tripping, Blade Runner spun around. He grabbed his light sword at the same time. What met his eye had him blinking in rapid succession.

"Yes, I am Spock."

No arguing, the man before him bore a strong resemblance to the Star Trek character he'd seen recently, only because of the actor's passing, and because a TV played in his favorite juice bar. Xakara had insisted they stay and watch one of the Star Trek movies.

Arching a black brow, the tall man raised his hand. "Live long and prosper."

"You're fictional," was all Blade Runner could think to say, while noting the look-alike appeared to be fully humanoid, and more importantly, absolutely weaponless. Unless he concealed a weapon beneath the regal white robe he wore.

Blade Runner clutched his light sword more tightly, prepared to run the intruder through.

"Ah, yes. An explanation is required. May I address you as Blade Runner?"

"Mind meld?" Blade Runner joked, now cool as the cucumbers he liked on his salads.

"There is no need for a mind meld." Spock -- or whoever his uninvited guest was -- steepled his hands. "The name you use is quite clear in my mind."

"I'm an open book, eh? As they say."

"To a degree, rabbit warrior."

Reaching back, Blade Runner palm-touched the stabilizer, bringing his craft to a hovering stop. "Sure, Spock rhymes with doc, address me as Blade Runner. What are you doing here?"

"I am making contact."

"Contact is established. Do explain more." Blade Runner allowed his blade to lower. 
Again Spock lifted a brow. "To explain, Blade Runner, my life as a human on Earth was the true fiction."

"How so? And do tell." Blade Runner cocked his rabbit ear.

"I was allowed to incarnate on Earth for the specific purpose of acting as my true self. To be more specific, to play the role of Spock. The plan was to bring forth as much of my true nature as possible in the role."

"Fascinating," Blade Runner imitated the character, Spock, for his own amusement.

"Fascinating," Spock returned the imitation. A hint of a grin curved one side of his mouth, vanishing quickly.

"The planet, Vulcan, not in my star data base. Where is your homeworld?"

"You would know my homeworld as Vespuchia."

"Located in the neighboring solar system," Blade Runner instantly recognized. "I have never visited."

"We are selective as to contact. It was decided by my people's high council to initiate contact with Earth humans. First, by bringing awareness to the population on Earth in the guise of their fictional programming."

Blade Runner eased his stance, beginning to feel a certain affection for the pointed ear ET. "Ah...well, did it work as expected?"

"Perfectly. However, expectation is illogical."

"If you say so, fellow pointy ear. Say, is this contact between you and me only? Or is there someone else on the ground I'm allowed to spill this tale to?"

"The one known as Dante. However, speak to whomever will lend a listening ear. If you will excuse me, Blade Runner, my time is over."

"Come again, pointy ears," Blade Runner invited, even as he watched Spock dematerialize, and heard him say, "Beam me up, Scotty."

~~~~~~


Wishing you love and passion on the wild side ~ 

Savanna 

Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance

Monday, March 2, 2015

On the Bandwagon


A little while back we had a baby boom at Talbot’s Peak, and a subsequent scramble to find suitable names for all those rugrats (or rugsquirrels, or rugwolves, etc.). I couldn’t join in because none of my characters are in the family way. Then I remembered Virgil, the runaway werewolf, and Destiny, his partner on the lam. Destiny was pregnant at the start of the story. Sooner or later she’d have to give birth. It only takes about five-six days to drive cross-country (I’ve done it myself. Twice.), so either she was farther along than I thought or wolves don’t carry as long as we do. I’ll have to figure out shapeshifter gestation periods.

At any rate, eventually the kid arrives, and finding a name becomes paramount, for a number of reasons …

# # #

Destiny stood in the doorway of the little beach cottage. “And where do you think you’re going?”

“I’m taking Goober down to the beach,” Virgil said. “He does like to dig. Want us to look for clams?”

“His name is not Goober. He’s the son of alphas. No alpha in the history of any pack has ever been named Goober.”

“G’wan. He’s been a little Goober from the minute he popped out. Haven’t you, buddy?” Virgil made wet, sloppy noises against the baby’s belly. The baby crowed happily.

Destiny stamped her foot. “I will not let you name my son Goober!”

“Fine,” Virgil said. “You name him, then. It’s just a nickname anyway. I had to call him something, and ‘here, boy’ only works on dogs.”

Destiny practically snatched the baby out of Virgil’s arms. Startled, the infant yowled. She rocked him gently. “There, there, sweetie, mommy didn’t mean it. Listen to him howl! Those are alpha lungs. He’s going to have a commanding voice. He needs a commanding name.”

“He’s gone a week without one. He’ll last a while longer.”

“I’ve been thinking this over carefully,” Destiny said. “You don’t just slap any old name on an alpha. We have to think of the future.”

“Better pick something Italian, then, if we’re going to stay in New Jersey.”

Destiny’s expression let him know how little help he was being. “I said alpha, not mob boss. It has to be something classy. What was that city we passed when we got on the parkway?”

“Perth Amboy?”

“Be serious. Camden. That was it. I like the sound of that.” She held the baby against her breast. He immediately latched on for a snack. “Camden Gregory Hancock,” she cooed. “That’s the name of an alpha.”

“That’s the name of a kid who gets beat up behind the swings in fifth-period recess. If you’re going to go in that direction, why not call him Princeton?”

“Because I like Camden. It has strength. Quit pouting, will you? It’s not like he’s yours.”

She knew she’d hit the wound head-on the second she said it. Both of them looked out separate windows. The newly-christened Camden finished his meal and slid his lips off his mother’s teat. Destiny handed him back to Virgil. “If you’re taking him to the beach, he’ll need protection,” she said briskly. “A hat or something. Let me see what I can find.” She darted out of the room.

The baby hiccupped. Virgil set the infant against his shoulder and patted his back. “Don’t listen to her, Goober,” he murmured.

Sunday, March 1, 2015

SNEAK PEEK SUNDAY: Her Midnight Stardust Cowboys ~ Chapter Forty-three

savannakougar.blogspot.com/p/blog-page.html

Her Midnight Stardust Cowboys

Note: this week features the emotional healing of my heroine, Sherilyn.

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The first six paragraphs from ~

Chapter Forty-three:
Tears welled in her eyes...

Tears welled in her eyes instantly, embarrassingly. As she blinked them away, Sherilyn felt darn glad she wore waterproof mascara--silly as that was in a way.

"Thank...thank you," she stuttered, managing to quell her urge to breakdown and weep.

"Thank you?" Dontoya gently teased.

"I--the men I've known didn't bother with acknowledging my emotions." Sherilyn couldn't help the bitterness in her tone.

"You have such expressive eyes, beautiful mate. But, I'm bettin' you've been shut down once too often. Haven't you?"

Keeping his knuckles curled beneath her chin, Dontoya pulled a white hankie from the side pocket of his jacket. With tenderness, he dabbed away her teardrops.

~~~~~~

For more Sunday Sneak Peaks ~sneak-peek-sunday.blogspot.com~

~~~~~~

Blurb & Excerpts for HER MIDNIGHT STARDUST COWBOYS are on the page above.
~~~~~~


Wishing you shapeshifting cowboy love on the wild side...

Savanna

Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance ~

Saturday, February 28, 2015

STORY TELLING ROUND TWO


 

Phil sat down next to his wife Hazel.  The group gathered in Gill’s front room reminded him of his family growing up.  Extended family helped more than people realized.  Grandad with his stories and Grandma’s home made clothes combined with aunts and uncles lessons on life added to what his parents did.  A group rasie wasn’t so bad.  The group here was a family in the making.

“Hey Gill, can I tell a tale?”  Phil asked looking around the group noting no one else raised their hand when Gill asked who was next for sharing a story.

“Appears you got the spot,” Gill replied, sitting down next to Chloe.
Phil rose, made his way to the open space near the fireplace. 
“Hi folks,” Phil began.  A few murmurred replies sounded.

“Granddad always had a joke handy.  Some of ‘em got us grandkids every time he told ‘em.”  Heads nodded, urging Phil to continue.
“His fave goes like this:  A new to country living boy asks a farmer how many hens can a rooster service.

Oh, about 10 hens the farmer advises.  Next morning the new country dude goes out and all 10 hens are laying out in the yard with their feet up in the air and tounges hanging out deader than a nail.  Rooster is strutting around barnyard cocky as all get out. 

Country boy walks over to the rooster says,  Think you’re hot stuff, eh?  All that sex is gonna do you in.  I’ll fix you.  Country boy buys 20 hens and puts them  in with rooster.

Next morning same thing as prior.  20 hens screwed to death.  Well now country boy is really miffed.  This rooster’s challenge isn’t gonna beat him.  40 hens and the rooster are put up in the coop that night.

Next morning country boy looks out in the yard and 40 hens are laying out screwed just like the others before them.  But….”  Phil paused looking around the room.

Gazes met his.  He got nods and hands motioning for him to go on.  He smiled and rubbed his lips together.  “Out amongst the hens laid the rooster with his feet up and tongue hanging out.  Country boy walks over to him shaking his finger and smiling.  See I told you you would screw your self to death.   Rooster puts his wing to his lips goes SShh then points to the sky replying BUZZARDS!”

Titters of laughter followed by guffs of chuckles erupted.  Phil waited until the noise died down before continuing.  “Granddad’s moral was love don’t know boundaries.  Lust will get you if you ain’t careful.  He spoke from experience we learned as we grew up.  He fell in lust with the girl next door.  They eloped only to find out later that their shape shifter species couldn’t mate.  Grandma One loved soaring with the wind under her buzzard wings on a full moon night.  Granddad bless his heart loved her as much as his second wife, Grandma Too.  A groundhog through and through.  Yep, Granddad was a polygamist.”




Phil made his way back through the quiet group, knowing several looked at him differently and others smiled.  Who else had an eye opening tale to share?


 




















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Happy Weekend Gang!

Wow talk about unique pasts!  You never know what you'll find out next with our Peakites!  

How's the weather treating you?  The Spice Homestead is ready for Spring and warm weather.  Snow still shows as I look out the window.  More green of the lawns through out the neighboorhood show. The forecast is for 60 degrees next week the back to cold and more what?!  SNOW!  So the joust between Winter and Spring continues...sigh.

Treat your self and your loves and spice to a few good books while we weather out this joust seeing when Winter will surrender to Spring.  Or is it Spring beats the *())_*)_&*&() out of Winter?

Until Next Week,

Solara

Friday, February 27, 2015

They Have A Union for That?


Penelope sat in the overstuffed chair built for two, stroking her mink who had recently, it seemed, acquired a lovely leather collar in a shade of blue found on only one man in town.  The collar was an exact match to the gem hanging from a choker circling the Mistress’ neck.  Both mink and Madam looked happier than he’d seen them in weeks.  For that, Dom was happy.

“So, Master Dominic, you called a meeting?  Is there some sort of problem we need to discuss and if so, where is everyone?”

Dom looked to the young lion he’d been training for some time, then down to the muzzled wolf at his feet.  The she stayed close to Leo’s legs and uttered not one whine.  He could see that Leo had taken his advice and purchased the gentle muzzle found at The Talbot’s Peak Pet Store to help curtail his sub’s wild tongue.  The silencing was more a mental punishment than a physical one.  “Not a problem, per se, Leo, more an interesting development.  The others were invited, but had engagements they could not cancel.  They were all fine with us discussing this and letting them know our verdict.”

“Not a problem, per se?” Mistress P repeated, sex oozing with every syllable.  “I love the sound of that.”

“I figured you would, Pen.” Dominic joked. “Here’s the quick…”

“…And dirty?” The colorful bird quickly questioned.

“Yes, Pen, and dirty.  We have a new Domme in town and she’s doing some very interesting things.”

“Ah, Edina.” Penelope grinned, changing her position in the chair to better cuddle her sub. “She is doing some new and unusual things in that basement room of hers.  Dante was impressed by the numbers of shifters she has coming and going…pun kind of intended.”

Dom covered his chuckle with a cough and the wolf at Leo’s feet, chuffed.  Penelope, always the smart-aleck just sat and smiled. “Yes, she’s been busy.  The question is, are we okay with her taking money for what she’s doing?”

“What exactly she’s doing is really the question then?”  Leo spoke to no one in particular.

“Has anyone of us been by to see what she’s doing?” Mistress P asked.  “From what I understood her clientele has all been overweight.  Is she preying on them?  Offering something to “help” them lose weight, but really does nothing but lighten their wallets?”

“Good question, Mistress,” Leo said, his hand now stroking the wolf’s head at his feet.  “I’ve not heard any talk about “miracle” cures to anything over at my practice, but I’ll keep my ears open for gossip.”

“Sounds good, Leo.  Thanks.”  Dom looked back to Penelope, knowing she was planning something.  “Pen?”

“I think we need to invite her to one of our “union” meetings.  Let her explain what she’s doing here and then decide if she can “join.”

Dom chuckled, as did Leo.  “Would this just be an excuse to call in the toy panderers?”

“Any time is a good time for sex toys, Dom.  This you know.  And yes, I do enjoy shopping for the good deals the panderers like to offer, but we can use a toy show to test her, as well.  If she wants to Domme in Talbot’s Peak, she needs to be tested for what kind of Dom she is.  The best way…put her through her sub paces.  If she passes, she can show us her Domme chops.  Plus, if we invite the right panderers, there will already be a cross or bench at the ready.”

“Agreed.” Dom nodded.

“Sounds good.” Leo affirmed.

“Wonderful,” Penelope purred.  “I’ll start making some calls.”

~~~
I wonder how Edina will like her welcome and who will administer her "test?"  Could there be a Dom in her future or do you see her with a switch?  So many questions...

Keep warm!
Serena

Wednesday, February 25, 2015

Hit and Run Post

Happy Wednesday! Rebecca here, reassuring everyone that I am, in fact, still alive and not part of witness protection. Not much to post this week unless you want a snipet. Yes, you do want one? Ok!

~Rebecca

Snipet:

"So you're actually a witch and not, like, a demi god or a semi god or something?" she asked curiously.

"Why would you think I was a god derivative?" I asked, flat out pole axed.

"Well, you did something only a god would be able to do. You were raised by a god. You live real quiet and everything even though you have a butt-load of power..."
I shut my eyes and nodded. Got it.

"No, no gods blood in me," I replied bitterly. "Just a witch who likes to be left alone."