Friday, November 20, 2015
“Aunt Lil’,” Ziva called, her hand covering Cooper’s head where he slept strapped to her chest. “You here?”
Ziva smiled and looked back at River, strapped in a front facing hold on Nick’s chest, trying to copy her words. Her little peach was so alpha already. She faced the world with a determination she got from both her parents and the eyes that could only have come from the daddy whose thumbs she was currently holding.
“In here, Ziva dear.”
The wispy sound of her aunt’s voice pulled her away from the smiles of her mate and child, concern for Liliya making a place in her chest. She loved her aunt and couldn’t imagine life without her. Aunt Lil’ had made life tolerable for Ziva during the years she’d had to assume the alpha position in her family.
Moving through the house her mother and aunt shared to the solarium in back, Ziva noticed how dark and unkempt the place had become. That was so not like Lil’. Her mother, now that she could see.
“Lil’, are you okay?” She asked the lump of a woman bundled into a blanket in the comphy double chair that looked out into the forest.
“No, Ziva my sweet, my time has come, “ Liliya whispered, acting like the old lady she wasn’t. “I love you, dear. Remember me fondly.”
“Lil’, I’m pretty sure it’s not your time.”
“No, it’s true, I’m bound for wherever shifters go to be recycled for the next life.”
“Aunt Lil’, I was with you just last week when Doc Leo did your annual physical. Remember, he said you were as healthy as one of the oxen brothers.”
Liliya threw off her blanket and sat up straight. “Oh, what does he know anyway?”
“Well, he’s a vet and shifter doctor, I assume he knows quite a bit.”
“Pish, I’ve got the arthritis. A really bad case.”
“Shifters don’t get arthritis, Lil’. All that changing shape keeps the joints fresh and young.”
“Well then, I’m a frigging medical miracle ‘cause I’ve got the arthritis.”
Ziva shot Nick, who was trying really hard not to laugh at the surly lady on the chair, a help me look.
“Say, Ms. Liliya, It’s been a while since Peter’s stop by the gazette with pictures to sell, have you been keeping he busy?” Nick teased.
“No. Good riddance too little peewee rubbish with that one, and when I say little, I really mean itty bitty…candy corn size if you know what I mean…”
“Stop!” Nick moaned. His theatrics were enough to earn him a share of the award Ziva had been ready to give her aunt. “Z, cover Coop’s ears…please. Men don’t need or want to know about the size of another man’s junk!”
“Really, babe, he’s sound asleep.” Ziva laughed, then looked back at her aunt. “What happened, Liliya?”
“That bugger decided to go sniffing after some human who works at a fast food place down off the highway. A human!”
“River, my sweetling and Cooper baby.” Liliya got up out of the chair and crooned at the bundles she and Nick where holding.
“You know, now that I think about it, let that human have him, he deserves the ridicule he’s gonna get for his little peewee.”
“Reeree…AH!” River shouted, making Nick cringe.
“Great…that one was actually close to sounding correct.” Nick groaned.
Ziva smirked at Nick’s dismay and decided there would be plenty of time later to tell Nick that the AH at the end of Rivers new word was really her attempt at the word DAH.
Have a great weekend, y'all and keep warm!
Thursday, November 19, 2015
(shedding a little light on a dreary week ... )
“Ain’t you done up there yet?”
For answer, Gil trowled a mass of damp leaves out of the house’s gutter and dumped them on where he hoped Louie’s head was. A ripe oath signified a near-miss. “Hold it steady. I’m coming down.”
Half the house finished; the other half to go. Louie and Gil repositioned the ladder, and Gil trudged up the steps again. The trees around his house were already bare. Where the hell were all these leaves coming from?
“Y’know,” Louie said, “this’d go a lot faster if you’d get on the roof.”
“Yes, it would,” Gil said through gritted teeth. “If I could get on the roof. But the windows are too small for me to crawl through, and all we’ve got is an eight-foot folding ladder for a twelve-foot house. Neither it nor I am tall enough to safely get me onto the roof. Note the word ‘safely.’ Chloe said if I break my neck, she’ll come out and break my ass.” His higher vantage, while not enough to get him past gutter level, did give him a fine view of the street, and the pre-adult audience gathered there. “What are all those kids doing here?”
“Watching you risk your neck. Must be a slow day in town.”
Gil shaded his eyes. “Are they selling popcorn?”
“And peanuts. Y’want some?”
“Eat me with hot sauce. Hey, you kids! Get out’a here!” His audience jeered and treated him to various imaginative hand gestures.
“Izzat fat kid—yeah, he’s takin’ bets. Hey, you! Yeah, you in the yellah shirt. What species are you?”
“Rat!” the plump kid yelled back with a pumpkin grin.
“That’s what I figured. What odds you got on a broken leg?”
“Hey, the kid’s an enterprenooer. He should be encouraged.”
“I ought’a encourage this trowel right up your ass. Why don’t you get on the roof? You’re a rat. Shimmy up the drainpipe.”
“With this gut? Are you nuts? My shimmying days are behind me. You’re a squirrel. You shimmy.”
“I’m only a squirrel during a full moon.” Gil jabbed the trowel at the cool November sun. “Does that look like a full moon to you?”
“No.” Louie dropped his drawers and wagged his ample butt at the man above him. The kids along the sidewalk applauded. “Does this?”
Gil shot him the finger, and earned a cheer from his audience. “Ha ha friggin’ ha.”
A puff of breeze came up, and swirled dead leaves through the air and onto the roof. They tumbled into the gutter like they were drawn by magnets. Gil swore heartily.
Wait a minute. Those big brown things weren’t clumps of leaves. Not with those whiskers and tails.
The twin rodents glided expertly down from the branches of a nearby tree, borne aloft on stretched membranes of skin between their fore- and hind paws. They landed lightly on the roof and shifted into a pair of 13-year-olds, a boy and a girl. Naked, naturally. Gil hastily averted his eyes from the girl’s budding tits. Down below, Louie did the same.
Out on the sidewalk, the crowd went wild, at least until the girl shouted, “Knock it off, ya idjits.” She pointed at her incisors. “We’re rodents. We gnaw. And we go right for the giblets.” She turned to her brother. “Feel like filling your cheek pouches, Ricky?”
The audience dispersed post-haste. This pair must be known in the neighborhood.
Gil suddenly realized he knew them too. “Ricky?” he said, with his hand over his eyes. “June? Bertram’s kids?”
“Yeah,” June said. “Aunt Chloe called, said you needed help. Dad sent us over.”
“Aunt Chloe said you’d pay us twenty-five dollars to clean out the gutters,” Ricky added. “Apiece.”
“Are you kidding me?” Gil dropped his hand, spotted June’s grinning face, and slapped his palm over his eyes again before his gaze could accidentally drop lower. “Tell me you brought clothes with you.”
“Under the tree, on the other side of the house.”
“I’m on it.” Louie took off at a waddle.
Gil studiously stared out over the nearly-bare trees and listened to June and Ricky get to work. When Louie returned he passed the twins’ clothes up to Gil, who left them on the roof along with the trowel. He eased his way down the ladder.
“It’s okay,” Louie said. “The girl’s got a dress on now. You can’t see nothing unless you look—” Louie caught Gil’s glare and turned, setting his back to the house. “You can’t see nothing. You know those two?”
“They’re relatives of Chloe’s. Flying squirrels. Wish I’d thought of them sooner.” He brushed bits of leaf off his sweater.
“There you are.” Chloe came around the house to kiss her husband on the cheek, and pat Louie on the arm. “I see the kids made it. Hope you’re in the mood for walnut cookies. And for baby-changing.”
“And that’s my cue.” Louie said. “I’m out’a here.”
Wednesday, November 18, 2015
So, quick hit-and-run post today. I had been planning to release Witch's Moon for Thanksgiving. I now have some changes to make to remove big chunks of the plot so that there's no reference to any characters I didn't create. Hopefully, it will be ready by Christmas. These changes will turn my Talbot's Peak short story, Quick-Fix Wedding, into a sort of prequel for Witch's Moon. If you own a copy of it, you can use it to whet your appetite for Witch's Moon. If not, you can pick a copy of it up from Amazon's Kindle store or from Smashwords. Have a great day!
Posted by Rebecca Gillan
Tuesday, November 17, 2015
*Heading toward TURKEY DAY* howls and yowls, shapeshifter lovers.
After the question was asked if I really wanted to leave SHAPESHIFTER SEDUCTIONS, I reconsidered my decision to "bow out" . Because, of course, I want to continue in the fantasy world I've helped to world-build from the beginning. Also, I feel it's only fair to my heroines and heroes—who are currently clamoring at me nonstop.
At this point, I'd like to make it clear, I love ALL of my fellow authors. And, as a reader, I appreciate and enjoy their flash scenes. Their creativity amazes me.
However, given my worldview, my personal experiences in life—and the feelings and worldview—the life experiences of my characters—well, for a lack of a better way of expressing it...we have clashing worldviews. At least, that's my perception.
The only solution I know of, is to simply create a separate timeline, a parallel Talbot's Peak, if you will... in the same plotline-vein as the TV show, SLIDERS [1995-2000].
Thus, my flash scenes, in no way reflect other storylines of shifter/supernatural life in Talbot's Peak...although, obviously, only to the degree that it makes a logical story...again, as was done in the various SLIDERS versions of Earth reality.
If anyone is offended by my authorly plotline-version of the Peak, I ask you to simply tune out, change the channel, and continue to enjoy the other flash scenes.
And so it begins... The Divergent Timeline
Splitsville... Red Pill, Blue Pill ... The Divergent Timeline
Restless, her inner cat tail slashing back and forth, Kitty paced her office in the town library. Change, like a typhoon wind, permeated the very atmosphere. She hated like hell to confront her inner knowing...but, here it was.
Everything was about to explode. She knew it to her feline-intuitive core.
When a polite knock sounded at the door, Kitty jumped and whirled like her cat self. "Come in," she called out, knowing it was Sapphyra, a psychic who was part of Dante's Circle of Witches.
Fishsticks, tears already dripped on her cheeks. With a swipe of her hand, Kitty hastily wiped them away.
"Not good." Sapphyra answered Kitty's speculative gaze, and approached.
"Tea?" Kitty asked.
"No thanks. I'm not in mood...too upset," Sapphyra softly responded. She embraced Kitty in a warm hug.
As they'd often done, both women seated themselves on the cozy, Victorian-replica chairs.
Kitty watched Sapphyra inhale a large breath, then reach inside her satchel. "Several of us tuned in psychically, and used remote viewing..." she hesitated, "here's the transcript of the mayor and the rat plotting against Dante...I understand Damien has already taken care of his 'problem'."
Stiffening her spine, and her nerve, Kitty took hold of the pages. Resolute—since it never did any good to avoid a problem—she began reading.
Her tears splashed on the paper before she could contain them. "They really believe this will work? Dante isn't stupid. He's had the license thing covered for years." Kitty shook her head at the absurdity of it. "He made a private deal with county officials years ago. They don't bother him. He doesn't bother them. And they're welcome at the Pleasure Club."
"I know. So far, everyone has gotten along. No issues. And no licenses."
Not quite believing what she'd read, with shock numbing her, Kitty carefully re-read the pages. "Mayor G, the rat...they've gone to the dark side...haven't they?" Kitty sighed to the depth of her soul. "Being in town is no longer safe for us, is it?"
"Not for those of us who don't want to end up in a black ops lab, the experiment du-jour." Sapphyra twisted her lips. "I guess if you're a rabbit shifter, or friend's with those shifters in the state congress, you're protected."
"What I don't understand is why the mayor and the rat are confusing Damien's Halloween visit with Dante. He's not coming after them. He's tried to reconcile. But he is a wolf. That only goes so far."
"Dante had nothing to do Damien's threats." Sapphyra shook her head, an exasperated expression on her face. "He had no clue about his sire's sudden visit to the mayor, until White Fang told him."
Kitty nodded. "Mayor G should be grateful White Fang had an ear to the door the whole time, so he didn't end up roadkill. Instead this..." Kitty tossed the pages on the coffee table.
"What I don't understand is why the mayor thinks it's Dante's idea to do a recall election. There's been murmurings of that ever since Mayor G tried to get the town to do that state census form. You know, be counted."
"How un-American, that the people of Talbot's Peak should actually get to vote, possibly un-elect him as mayor." Kitty couldn't care less if sarcasm colored her words. "And big fat scratches, there was never one townhall meeting about that census beforehand. You know, finding out what the people wanted, if they were onboard."
"I must have missed the notice in the G&B Gazette about the state offering more money later." Sapphyra tossed her long hair in disgust. "Wait. Aren't those notices about townhall meetings put on the library's community board?"
"If there was a public meeting, no one here was notified. Funny how that happened... or didn't happen. Whatever," Kitty softly yowled the last word. She stood. With anxiousness owning her stomach, she moved to the window, peering outside yet not seeing anything. Inside, her heart somersaulted with sadness.
"People have a right to know what's going on," Sapphyra stated, her tone spirited.
"You're right. They need to know it's no longer safe in town for a lot of us. Dante can't keep using the cyber team to protect the town. Too much is going on. He has to protect the Pleasure Club, and the surrounding territory."
"Obviously, I can't take this transcript to the Gazette, since it's psychically generated."
"No..." Inspiration blazed like a hundred watt bulb in Kitty's head. "No, but we can copy it as a flyer. Spread it all over town. And people can make up their own mind. Do their own research. Decide what they want to do." Kitty tightened her arms over her belly. "It's splitsville for me."
"Red pill, blue pill," Sapphyra spoke in the silence. "We're in a Matrix-movie moment."
"You take the blue pill, the story ends," Kitty quoted what she knew by heart from infamous movie. "You wake up in your bed and believe whatever you want to believe. You take the red pill, you stay in wonderland, and I show you how deep the rabbit hole goes."
Wishing you love and passion on the wild side ~
Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance
Saturday, November 14, 2015
Thursday, November 12, 2015
“Well, lookie here,” Gil said, pulling a folder out of a filing cabinet in the Mayor’s office. “Just as I suspected. Guess who doesn’t have a liquor license?”
Louie, deep in his own inspection of the records in another filing cabinet, snorted. “Start with a D?”
“Yeppur. Technically, the entire Pleasure Club complex lies outside the Talbot’s Peak city limits. We can’t provide him with liquor licenses or building permits or any of that fun stuff. He has to go through the county for that, and I know for a fact he never did.”
“Beaver Brothers Construction, for starters. Who do you think built the place?” Gil slapped the folder onto his desk, where it joined a growing pile of similar damning evidence gleaned from both the county's online public records and Mayor Lincoln's old CYA files. “One phone call could make his life very, very difficult.”
“You want me to make it?” Louie said, with a far-too-eager grin. “I used to deal with the bureaucrats in Jersey. I speak the lingo.”
“Not just yet. I’m going to talk to him first. Which is more courtesy than he deserves. A recall vote? Seriously? He has no authority to call for that. He has no legal authority whatsoever. Who the hell does he think he is?”
“He thinks he’s protecting the Peak.” Louie made a ratty sniff. “Like we ain’t capable of crossing the street by ourselves if Dante ain’t there to hold our hands.”
“Protect, my ass. You know he held a secret meeting with his cronies to discuss that recall election? None of them even live in Talbot’s Peak. Hell, at least three of ‘em aren’t even native to Earth. And there they are, holed up in a bunker plotting to remove a legally-elected government official under the guise of a ‘recall.’ And who’d take over the office of Mayor? Somebody he approves of? That’s not protecting the people. That’s a would-be dictator planning a coup d’etat. All for our own good, of course. Seeing as how we’re all so helpless and vulnerable without his benevolent guidance. That kind of ‘protection’ we need less than Russia needed Josef Stalin.”
“All animals are equal, but some animals are more equal than others,” Louie quoted. “So let him take his toys and move out. Ain’t that what Damien threatened he’d do?”
“If he does, it’s gonna be one tiny exodus. Unlike our would-be overlord, I’ve been out on the streets the last couple of years. I don’t need a census list; I’ve met our population. Over eighty-five percent of Talbot’s Peak is herbivorous. Even the omnivores aren’t going to follow a wolf. He wants to leave? Let ‘im. We’ll all be right here waving bye-bye.”
Louie made a disgusted noise. “Is this still over the state money thing? That came from the bunnies we got in Congress. Don’t he know that?”
“I tried to tell him. Or I would have, if I could have gotten hold of him. If he was so concerned, he could have called me. We could have avoided this whole mess with a simple conversation. But what does he do? Throws his weight around. Doesn’t even come at me in person. He sends his girlfriend to chew us out. His girlfriend, who has even less authority than he does, and he doesn’t have any to start with. Y’know what kind of a man does that? I’ll give you a hint. It starts with A and ends in ‘hole’.”
“And wasn’t she feeling her oats?” Louie sneered. “Like any one of us was gonna take a swing at her. Hell, I’m a rat and even I’m more of a gennulman than that. Wish I’d taken her over my knee like I wanted to, though. Little bratty cat had it coming.”
“I hope she doesn’t get too full of herself and try that with Zhere Ghan,” Gil said. “There won’t be enough of her left to stuff into a baggie.”
“Dante ain’t gonna dick with Zhere Ghan. He respects Ghan. Ghan’s a fellow predator. Not like us insignificant little rodents what need his protection and all.”
“Typical wolf,” Gil said. “Thinks being alpha automatically puts him at the top of the food chain. Man, the acorn didn’t fall far from that tree. Though he’s right to be concerned about humans. Especially this human.” Gil tapped his chest. “Everybody forgets I used to be human. I’m out here on the front lines doing my damnedest to walk the thinnest tightrope you can imagine, keeping shifters and humans from winding up in a bloody no-win fight. Meanwhile, he’s scheming and doing end runs around me and cutting me off at the knees every time I make a move he doesn’t approve of. If he wanted so bad to protect the town, why didn’t he run for Mayor?”
“Because screwing with people’s more fun.” Louie smiled. “Gotta admit, he’s good. Wonder if maybe he’s part rat?”
“Doesn’t matter. Fun’s over. We’re going to have the talk we should have had weeks ago. This time he’s going to listen. We’ll work it out together, like we were always supposed to. If he can’t do that, if he can’t show some respect for the squirrel, then he’ll have to deal with the human. And believe you me, doggie’s gonna heel.”
“Speaking of nuts,” Louie said, “Damien’s still on the loose. You want me to deal with him? Jersey style?”
“Not necessary.” Gil patted his phone. “That’s a call I did make. We won’t have to worry about Damien Hancock for at least the next fifteen to twenty years.”
# # #
Damien looked up in surprise at the knock on his door. Surprise because he was currently sitting at his desk in the office of his stronghold halfway up the Peak, with half a dozen wolves outside. There shouldn’t even be a knock on the door.
He got up and went to the door. The polite rap came again. Damien yanked the door open.
Three men in dark glasses and crisp black suits stood outside the door. His guard wolves pressed against the wall in obvious terror. They wouldn’t look at Damien.
The man at the forefront flashed ID. He did not smile.
“Mr Hancock?” he said. “We want to talk to you. We’re with the IRS.”