Thursday, October 27, 2011

ShapeShifter Seductions ~ A Ripped Roaring Halloween

Welcome to the Ripped Roaring Halloween Hop! We hope you enjoy a peek at Samhain/Halloween around the town of Talbot's Peak.

It was a dark and delicious night and...


Ally’s toes curled inside her super warm UGGs as she rode, alone, at the back of the horse-drawn hay wagon. Her kids all sat in front with the driver, taking turns holding the reins. Wasn’t a trail ride supposed to be done sitting amid the itchy hay, together with your loved ones?

The couples back here with her sure had the right idea. Each set was snuggled in, heads close and hands at work…thankfully, under the blankets. She wasn’t prude by any means, and her kids were entertained away from the adults, but she was lonely.

It had been forever since she’d engaged in the non “G” rated entertainment you were gifted with upon reaching adulthood. Who was the last man to get her panties in a happy twist? Certainly, not her ex – the dickless wonder. Shoot, they’d had three kids together and she’d given up, early in their marriage, on him actually learning what sent her over the edge. Any orgasms’ or even the soft, gentle touch of a loving hand came from her own, after the snoring kicked in on the other side of the mattress.

Ally pulled her own blanket tighter and turned to look out the back of the wagon, rather than continuing to gawk at the lucky lovers with envy in her heart. It was also easier to brush away the tears if she looked into the darkened woods and reminded herself that one day she would find love…

“My turn, my turn…” The youthful exuberance of her youngest was music to her ears. Last week, it had actually scared her when Rosie had become determined to prove her ghost friend, “Hawke” was real.
Rosie’s words had been spot on with the conversation she’d just had with Mrs. Ryneson, so for a moment, Ally was convinced there was a ghost listening in, but that was just not possible. More than likely, Rosie just had really good hearing and was acting out again for attention.

At least that was the general consensus among counselors.

“No it’s not, crazy, it’s my turn!”

Great, Silas was at it again. On top of everything else, she was going to have to, once again, publicly scold her oldest. She was incredibly tired of the bad behavior she knew was learned from their father and used as an outlet for Silas’ anger. His asshole dad had chosen a young, stacked plaything over his children. Silas’ rage was understandable, but the treatment of his sister was not acceptable.

“AM NOT!” Rosie’s tone rose, not in anger, but hurt. It was a pain Ally heard way to often in one so young.

“Now, now little-ings,” The ancient driver soothed. “Be nice to your sister, young Silas, for she will be a comfort to you later in life. It is actually master Daniel’s turn, should he wish to take it.”

“Yea!” Her quietest spoke, garnering mumbles from the other two.

Go mister driver man! Ally smiled to herself, knowing the aged Native American must have had kids of his own to know exactly how to curb the fight before it had started.

Wolves howled from the forest on either side and Ally pulled her legs closer to her body, hugging them with her arms. The ride was spooky enough, but the newly appearing mist swirling over the ground amplified to the magical feel of the night. Samhain was close upon them and all manner of freakiness could happen during that time—if you believed.

At one time in her life, she’d believed. With her whole heart she’d believed in the magic and miracles of this time of the year, but then came the dickless wonder, and life had become one sober heart-ache.

As the mist rose higher, Ally waited, breathless at what might happen. Maybe she would see a headless horseman, or a hairy and finely built wolfman. Lord help her if it was a vampire with a long black cape and deliciously erotic fangs wanting to thrust themselves into her skin? Then she just might throw herself from the wagon and bear her long, needy neck—or the inside or her thigh, definitely the inside of her thigh.

What she wasn’t prepared for was the apparition of a hunting bird, a hawk, to land on the wooden post of the wagon. Who could be prepared for something like that? She wanted to reach out and touch the beautiful creature, but she knew her hand would go right through. When the creature caught her in a stare, she felt the visceral punch, as if she were staring at a man instead. He was tall and raven haired. He appeared to be Native American, and yet he was not. His lips were full and promised hours of the adult type fun she sought.

When his lips moved, she knew he was speaking only to her. Nobody else could hear or see her fantasy man which was good considering his message.

“Ally-love, soon I will run my fingers through your long chestnut hair, and drag my lips across your moon-kissed body. There will be no secrets between us and when we come together, it will be soul to soul.”

In that instant, Ally flushed with warmth, both inside and out, but it was the gentle touch against her lips that made her screeeeeeaaam.

Happy Halloween! May the lustiest of wolfmen, vamps or raven's be knocking at your door the weekend!


The Midnight Ride of Ravi Khan

Pic from ~ ~

“Have we got everything?” Jazzed on caffeine but far more on nerves, Merry darted about her office, cell phone at her ear. She’d held the Haunted Hay Ride and Corn Maze After Dark at her dude ranch before, but this was the first year for the Haunted Trail Ride. Trying to co-ordinate everything perfectly was worse than managing a fractious bronc. Just because she personally hadn’t arranged the trail ride didn’t ease her worry about it. Exactly the opposite, in fact.

Dash, the mastermind behind the trail ride idea, entered the office without knocking, as usual. Merry waved distractedly at him and continued speaking into the phone. “Spare batteries,” she said. “We’ve got spare batteries, right? And extra flashlights? Somebody always forgets.”

“We’ve got everything we need. Phil made a run to town this morning.” Dash took the phone from Merry’s hand. “We’re heading out,” he said. He shut the phone and handed it back to Merry. “You got a good team, sugar. They’ve got it under control. Now settle down. You stay all het up like this, you’re gonna spook the horses.”

“That’s another thing. What about the horses? You didn’t tell me what you have planned for the ride. Scaring the riders is one thing. That’s what they paid for. But what if the horses spook? What if somebody gets thrown? The insurance costs – ”

“Honey, relax.” Dash took her into his arms and smacked a wet kiss on her forehead. “The riders are all experienced, just like you specified. I picked the horses myself and had a long talk with ’em. There’s a few surprises along the trail, but nothing too sudden or too close. Everything’ll be fine.”

“What kind of surprises?”

“The surprise kind,” Dash said with a wink. “I called in some favors and talked to some friends. Your guests are gonna love it, trust me.”

“I shouldn’t,” Merry grumbled, “but I always do, don’t I?” She pecked a kiss on his lips. “Where’s your costume?”

He indicated his human form. “This is it.”

“So no unicorn tonight?”

“Unicorns aren’t scary. Settle down. This outfit’s half Velcro. Anything goes wrong on the trail, I can always switch to horse. Not that anything’ll go wrong,” he hastened to assure Merry.

“I hope not,” Merry said. “If this works out, it’ll be so great financially for the ranch.”

“And it’ll be fun,” Dash added, giving her ass a light slap. “Don’t forget the fun.”

Merry stepped outside and straight into a problem. The riders were lined up and ready to go, all but the big one in the ill-fitting Stetson. Merry’s mouth twisted in a grimace of distaste. She’d never cared for Ravi Khan. He was always rough on his mounts, as if trying to prove a point. He was currently trying to force his horse to rear. The horse was being uncooperative.

Dash charged over before Merry could. “Ease up there, fellah. Horse wants his hooves on the ground, let ’em stay there. This a stallion? Instructions said no stallions. Let’s get you another mount.”

“I will ride this horse. He challenges me,” Ravi said in a tiger’s growl. “I paid my money like everyone else. Or perhaps I should file a complaint?”

“Let it go, Dash,” Merry said. Sadly, he had paid good money, and the ranch needed the revenue. Ravi’s father was supposed to be some kind of high muckety-muck down in Talbot’s Peak, and a complaint could bring them unwanted trouble. Also sadly, Ravi was an excellent horseman.

Once Ravi reined his mount into line and out of earshot she added in a mutter, “If he wants to get bucked off and break his fool neck, that’s his lookout. Can’t say we didn’t warn him.”

“Heard you there,” Dash muttered back. “Borrow your phone a sec?”

They set off shortly up the trail. The ride was to last about an hour, through the darkened woods and past whatever “surprises” Dash had arranged. Except for Ravi’s mutinous stallion, all the horses were geldings or mares, and the most laid-back in Merry’s stable. Barring that idiot Khan, this might go all right.

They’d scarcely left the ranch behind when an enormous bat swooped out of the sky to divebomb the riders. Several women screamed. The bat swept into the woods. Moments later a pale man in a cape stepped out onto the trail to confront them. “Good evening,” he said in a suave, cultured voice. “I bid you welcome to our trail ride. Be warned. You leave your civilized safety behind. Here, in the shadows of the night, the world is ours.”

As if on cue, a chorus of wolves set up an eerie howling that echoed all around them. Merry held tight to her nervous mare’s reins. That wasn’t any recording. That wasn’t any vampire, either. “That’s Brandon Wayne,” she hissed at Dash. “How’d you get him out here?”

Dash shrugged with a grin. “I know people.”

Obviously. “Perils lurk at every turn,” Wayne went on. “The ghosts of those long dead still haunt these woods. And the phantom mare, who lures unwary riders to damnation. Don’t try to follow her, or she’ll lead you to the mouth of Hell.”

“Infantile foolishness,” Ravi groused, just loud enough to dampen the others’ good time. “Get out of the way. We’re here to ride.”

“As you wish,” Wayne said, with a sweep of his cape. “Ride then, to your doom.” The riders walked their horses up the trail. Merry caught Wayne’s nod to Dash as they passed.

Dash had certainly set up an impressive show, even Merry had to admit. Strange lights bobbed in the woods, and odd moans and roars sounded from the darkness at unexpected intervals. A man ran at them, blood on his face and a hatchet buried in his skull. “Injuns!” he yelled. “Don’t go up there!” Merry recognized him as Pauly, one of her hands. The horses knew him and the blood was fake, so they took all his noise with aplomb.

At a bend in the trail a huge black panther with glowing green eyes snarled at them before leaping aside to become one with the darkness. Ravi’s stallion did rear then. The ride was held up while Dash hurried forward to get the hair-trigger horse and those around him back under control.

“Idiot’s going to ruin this,” Merry growled to Dash when he returned. “Wish I had some excuse to send him back to the ranch.”

“Hang in there, sugar. Something tells me our boy Ravi’s gonna get what’s coming to him.”

The words had scarcely left his lips when someone ahead of them shouted, “The mare! I see her! The phantom mare!”

Seconds later Merry did too. She straightened in her saddle. This wasn’t one of her horses. The pearly-white mare seemed to glow in the moonlight. Every horse in the line pricked its ears toward her. She pranced up to the trail and whickered seductively at them, trying to entice them to follow.

Her charms proved too great for Ravi’s stallion to resist. The animal half-reared, in spite of Ravi’s curses and rock-hard hand on the reins. Ignoring him, the stallion bugled and plunged out of line, everything but the mare forgotten. Including the rider on his back. The white mare whirled and dashed out of reach, into the woods. Ravi’s increasingly-frantic shouts were rapidly dampened by distance.

“Poor feller,” Dash said loudly. “He’ll be having breakfast with Satan tomorrow. We told him not to follow her.”

“Aren’t you going to do something?” somebody asked.

“Nothing we can do, now. He’s gone. The rest of you folks keep to the trail, no matter what. We don’t want to lose any more of you.”

The other riders settled down and were soon back to laughing and joking. They’d decided Ravi’s runaway horse was all part of the show. Merry knew better. “Shouldn’t you go after him?” she whispered to Dash.

“He’ll be fine. Rachael won’t let him hurt himself.”


“My half-sister. She wanted to be part of this so bad I thought she’d kick me in the teeth if I didn’t let her. I wasn’t sure about it, her being nigh-on to her season and all … ”

“Season,” Merry echoed. The light dawned. “Oh my … ”

“That’s why I said no stallions. I called ahead to warn her so she'd know what to expect. It’s Ravi’s own fault he wouldn’t change mounts. Stubborn cuss got what he deserved.”

Merry had to giggle. “What about Rachael? What if he catches her?”

“Sugar, ain’t a mortal horse alive can catch a shifter on the run. Anyway, she ain’t going far, just to the ranger station. Doubt if the rangers’ll take kindly to some pervert on horseback chasing a naked girl around in the woods.”

This time Merry laughed outright. “You’re no horse,” she scolded him. “You’re a certified, grade-A skunk.”

“I knew my B.O. would give me away. Now sit back and enjoy yourself. Halloween’s for fun. Have some.”

“I will,” she promised. And she did.

Posted by Pat C.

Sex and the Shape Shifter

Macy looked up to where Kazim sat. Seeing him astride the tall palomino gelding unnerved her more than she cared to let on. Two males in perfect symmetry and getting along added to the flutters looping through her stomach.

“Why do you hesitate, my tasty morsel?” Kazim’s deep golden brown eyes twinkled as he leaned down offering his hand.

Since they’d began dating six months prior, Macy learned about passion in ways she’d never thought possible. The man could bring her off just talking to her. He seemed to read her mind when her thoughts turned to desires she’d only fantasized about. His gentle eagerness to learn what pleasured her and brought her to multiple orgasms. Her cheeks reddened thinking about their latest adventures.

“As we ride, you’ve got to be kidding.” Macy inhaled and exhaled reminding herself that nothing ventured nothing gained. Yeah, right riding with the group of shape shifters from Dante’s bar who were bringing up the rear on the community organized spooktacular trail ride. She still didn’t know what to make of Kazim’s full moon furriness.

“Come and warm my cock with your hot passion.” Kazim gripped her wrist and tugged.

“Isn’t it gonna look weird with me facing you rather than frontwards? And then they’re going to know what we’re doing!” Macy blushed more.

“What makes you think they don’t already know?” She swore she flushed from head to toe as he sniffed the air. “I love the scent of you ready to rut with this hungry tiger.”

Macy swallowed hard. She’d bathed twice before putting on any of the skimpy lingerie she wore under her loose flowing dress. Crotchless panties and the plunge bra got her more than one yowl and whistle from Kazim as he watched her dress. The second shower had been to clean up after he’d climbed in with her during the first and brought her off repeatedly as he suckled her nipples and stroked her engorged clit.

“How am I supposed to get settled on you if I can’t see to guide you in?” Macy tried to grin and act nonchalant. Nothing about Kazim was casual or relaxed when it came to passion. He gave as good as he got. The man could lap up every drop of cream she produced and purr loudly enough to make her want to start all over again.

“You doubt my strength or ability to lift you up and find myself deep inside you?” Kazim slid off the palomino. “Stay put Cream.” He reached up and patted the gelding’s closest whither.

“Poor horse. He has to smell all this fertileness and not enjoy.” Macy clapped her hand over her mouth as she realized she muttered her thoughts out loud.

Cream tossed his head and stomped. Kazim tossed back his head and howled, reaching for Macy with his free hand. “Cream will enjoy the pleasures rippling through us and feed on our energy until he returns to the barn to carouse with the mares. Come dawn several horse shifter females and males will be grinning from a good night of passion.”

Macy gasped as Kazim lifted her up and settled her astride Cream. Kazim leapt up behind her working his hand around her waist as he nibbled her ear. “Lean forward over Cream’s neck my passion petal and let me in to your heated nest. It’s time to ignite the flames that will warm us as we ride.”

Posted by Solara Gordon

The Lone Ghost Rider

Lord, he was tired of being a ghost.

Lord Almighty! He’d become weary down to his invisible bones listenin’ to women scream like a banshee whenever they caught sight of his misty transparent form.

His life as a ghost rider had worn thin -- like a wool blanket after several long winters on the trail. Never interactin’ with another human being, the exception being when destiny demanded he intervene to right a wrong, and that was quick as a rattler’s strike.

According to the Heavenly Council he had to pay for his past sins. Never mattered, he hadn’t done most of ‘em, and tried to have his say.

Satan had been gunnin’ for him ever since he’d cleaned out a nest of the worst hombres in the whole of Colorado territory. One of Satan’s infiltratin’ devil angels had gained the Council’s ear. One so slick, with a voice so golden and deceivin’ Denver’s own protesting voice had been hanged until dead.

Denver Zedediah, as his mother had named him, ignored the hollow ache in the spot where his heart should have been. As a specter, he’d come to loathe the ever-lastin’ loneliness, the endless riding for over a century now. As much as he’d once craved riding the wide open plains without a soul in sight, now he wanted a home, and a woman.

He’d lived as a lone wolf in the Western territories, travelin’ from town to town takin’ on any job offered -- long as it sat right with his conscience. And, takin’ only the ladies who offered their charms.

Tarnation! He was damn tired of being stalked by a bumblin’ and fumblin’ parade of ghost hunters while tending to someone in need. Their newfangled gadgets woulda broken the back of a good pack mule. During all his wanderings, he’d witnessed only a few of the modern hunters who shot true as a gunslinger -- at least, the ones in his time who lived to tell the tale.

With the Call on him, Denver reined his faithful horse toward sundown, and they floated over the Montana prairie at a trot. The blaze of color slowly exploded along the horizon. Hell’s spurs, at least, he could still see like a human, and had all his five senses, plus his wits about him.

Because it was what the modern day folks called Halloween night, likely enough, he’d be busier than a wrangler at fall roundup. As well, preventin’ evil from winning at the card table called Earth had become a high stakes game in this time of the Great Darkness.


Not used to the cold, Sionne zipped up her fleece jacket, then hugged herself tight until her trembling eased off. Only hours earlier she’d purchased it for the Haunted Trail ride. Anything to escape her stalker of an ex-husband. The unspeakable bastard.

Astride her mount, a Paint mare with a docile temperament, Sionne watched the idiot tiger shapeshifter saw at his stallion’s mouth with the bit to get him to rear up. What was he? A Roy Rogers wannabe? If she’d had her wish she would have turned him into the headless horseman.

Even though it was unlikely as snow in the Amazon jungle that her ex would find her in Talbot’s Peak. Yet, that is. And even if he did since he feared horses, he’d wait to attack her -- which had been her original idea when she’d signed up for the ride.

Impatient to get moving, Sionne took her place, then patted the mare’s neck to soothe her. Her on-the-run anxiousness was causing the Paint to tense up beneath her.

Despite herself -- not being a huge fan of anything Halloween -- Sionne had to admit the whole bat-winging welcome had tickled her. After that, she settled herself in the saddle enjoying the reactions of the other participants.

Of course, when the beautiful white ghost mare had appeared, luring the overbearing tiger shifter’s stallion into a dead run, Sionne had silently cheered. Her first warning that danger had found her -- and wanted her ass real bad -- occurred near the end of the trail ride.

Sionne scented Bone Breaker, her ex’s enforcer. Holy damn, batman! Arturo had overcome his notorious greed long enough to send the psychopathic jaguar shapeshifter to either kill her or retrieve her.

Calm, Sionne told herself as she dismounted, and gave the reins of her mount to a cute cowboy with a winning smile. Stay calm. Trouble was she’d had no time to learn her surroundings. Where to hide, and remain holed up.

If she morphed now, and ran for the hills, Bone Breaker would be on her faster than a vampire who needed to feed. Trying not to appear as panicked as she felt, Sionne strolled toward the large campfire where other guests were already gathering to hear ghost stories.

Like a deadly shadow, Bone Breaker appeared beside her. Every nerve in Simone’s body turned into ice, burning agonizing ice.

“Come with me now,” he growled low and fierce, “and I will spare you the punishment Arturo has ordered before I return you to him.”


Denver narrowed his eyes at the evil he witnessed, seeing it as warped black waves around the man who was a jaguar shapeshifter. Obvious as sin, he stalked someone.

Following, Denver remained incorporeal until he sighted the woman who had been targeted by the man-jaguar. With little time to save her, Denver materialized himself and his horse to a ghostly white, and sent the stallion flying over the ground.

Twirling his lasso above his head, he flung it true, capturing the man-jaguar’s shoulders. Like a cow pony his stallion abruptly stopped and sat on his haunches. Denver yanked hard sprawling the man-beast to the ground.

Cheering shouts were his reward, and Denver figured those observing him thought he was part of the Haunted Halloween show. Just as well. Still, his job wasn’t finished. The woman wasn’t safe.

A pretty little thing, her wide eyes both thanked him and begged for his help. When he urged his horse forward, blocking the man-jaguar as he sprang to his feet, the woman didn’t think twice, she rushed toward him, and leaped.

Surprised down to his boots, Denver caught her around the waist, swinging her before him. Like she was born to it, she balanced herself on the little bit of saddle, and grabbed hold of his stallion’s mane.

“Run,” she yelled. “Race the wind. Whatever! Let’s get out of here.”

Never one to deny a lady in distress, Denver wheeled his horse around, heading for open spaces. His one question: why did the pretty little gal think he was real instead of an apparition?


Clinging to the stallion’s mane, Sionne wished like hell she could appreciate the sexy tall cowboy who had rescued her. Even now, she was aware of his rock-hard thighs, his rugged frame wrapped around her.

Rarely did any man interest her these day. But, he had her panting like a she-cat in heat. That is, he would have if she wasn’t running for her very life. Or, technically, if his magnificent horse wasn’t running beneath her... even though, it felt more like flying than...

Why didn’t she hear hoof beats?

Eeriness slammed Sionne, then twisted her insides.

“You okay, Miss?” her cowboy baritoned close to her ear. His arm tightened slightly around her waist as he brought her closer.

“I... Sionne, my name,” she shouted over her shoulder. “What’s your name?” She might as well play this out, find out what kind of paranormal weirdness she’d stepped into now.

“Denver. That’s my handle.” As he spoke, her big strong cowboy pulled back on the reins slowing his horse to a ground-covering lope.

“Denver, do you know this area?” Given it was night, Sionne cast her cat-sight over the terrain, and saw rolling prairie.

“Like the back of my hand, Miss Sionne.”

“Where would it be safe to hide? My ex is a real gnarly snarly beast, and I...”

“Now, don’t you worry none. I’m quick with a gun, and quicker with my fists. There’s a cabin I know about. Could be fixed up real nice.”

“Sounds like heaven,” Sionne called back before she thought.

“Yep. It sounds like heaven. There’s supplies laid in for the winter and lots of chow, Miss Sionne.” He gave the reins a gentle tug slowing his stallion to a smooth trot. “I feel like I ain’t ate in a coon’s age. How about I fix us a late night supper?”

“I’ll wash dishes,” Sionne offered.

“Maybe afterward, you’ll curl up in my lap, little jaguar. I ain’t held a woman... well, I surely am in need of some practice.”

So, he knew she was a shapeshifter. Sionne rubbed and snuggled against him, reveling in the feel of his hunk-awesome body. Then she softly rumbled, “Being held sounds purrrr-fect, Denver.”

Have a Magickal Halloween!

Savanna Kougar

Wednesday, October 26, 2011

Slobber Snow

This is a bit of flash I started last winter but never got around to finishing.

The picture below came from :

“It’s a slobbery day out there today folks. We can expect this mix of sleet and snow to continue through the morning hours and into the evening hours before clearing up just in time for the temperature to drop…”

Mooney tuned the radio out, still chuckling at the DJ’s analogy of sleet and snow mix being “slobbery.” It was perhaps not the cleverest bit of word-play but it amused him nonetheless. He had gleaned all he needed from the forecast, that this sloppy—slobbery—mess he was driving through was not going to go away any time soon. He should be back in Talbot’s Peak before sun-down, though, so at least he wouldn’t still be on the road when the slobber froze.

Werewolves have a slightly skewed sense of humor, a necessary adaptation to being an open secret in a society that pretended very hard that non-humans weren’t real. They were real, all right. They just weren’t plentiful. Their best weapon was humanity’s willingness to look the other way very hard to avoid having to admit there were things that went bump in the night. Talbot’s Peak, MT was the wolves attempt to help them ignore the obvious.

The side effect of a town founded by bats and run by wolves was that every species of shifter out there that didn’t want to have to pretend to be human anymore had started flocking there. Mooney had no idea why this was working as well as it was and he didn’t care. He was no alpha. All he knew was that the town was growing which in turn meant his mate’s coffee shop, Mocha Joe’s, was growing which meant these trips up to Butte to pick up shipments of specialty roast coffee beans were becoming more and more frequent. This suited him just fine.

Tuesday, October 25, 2011

'Bring Your Own Wolf' Costume Party ~ Part Two

New Moon howls and yowls, shapeshifter lovers.

Halloween celebrating, shapeshifter style, is in full swing here at Talbot’s Peak. And, not to howling-mention, but we’re participating in the Ripped Roaring Halloween Hop ~ October 28-31. Prizes, a Kindle up for grabs, flash scenes, and lots of trick or treat eye candy to ‘fill’ your bag.

So, it looks like there will be a Part Three to this flash scene that seems to be turning into a story... hope you enjoy. And wouldn’t it be fun to bring your own wolf?

‘Bring Your Own Wolf’ Costume Party ~ Part Two

There were some advantages to being thought of as only a dog. Zovier settled himself in his sphinx position to enjoy the show. His star witch, Sapphyra, had finished bathing and prepared to dress.

Once they’d arrived at her tiny house, Zovier had behaved as if he’d been obedience trained. By following Sapphyra’s every instruction, he’d earned her trust, and earned her sweetly stroking hand. When she’d finally hugged, he taken advantage nestling close to her firm yet very soft breasts.

Sapphyra had chatted and cooed to him as she warmed up meatloaf and mashed potatoes. Teasing him about being the big bad wolf, and how she didn’t want him to devour her, she’d fed him what she ate.

Afterward, Zovier had stayed on her heels as she moved with dancing steps inside her bedroom. Because the room was small, he remained in the doorway, watching her arrange her party costume on the bed.

Excitement sparkled her eyes, and he’d relished it, observing her beyond the slavering lust he felt for her beauty. Brandishing a brush, Sapphyra had commented about his lack of dog smell. She’d brushed his coat with a massaging thoroughness that had Zovier relaxing in a way he’d been unable to do since arriving in this backward dimension.

Careful to keep his tongue from lolling out, and his panting under control, Zovier watched Sapphyra move before the full length mirror, her steps light and lithe as a woodland Dryad. Unwrapping the large towel, she tossed it onto a plain chair.

“I’m not used to an audience, Bruno,” She smiled at him, then combed her fingers through her drying hair. Tumbling, and naturally curly, her light auburn tresses reached to the middle of her back.

At the sight of her naked beauty, Zovier snapped his jaws closed, having almost howled his appreciation at the display of her curves, lengthened to an erotic loveliness by her movements.

“Especially someone as handsome as you are,” she added as she reached for a pair of black fishnet hose. He may have been from Avalon, but they had all the twenty-first century amenities. Although big screen TVs were useless next to the crystalline mirrors they used for reception.

Zovier greedily ogled her shapely, voluptuous charms as she slipped on the stockings, then put on a strapless black bra. His tongue dripped to lap the valley between her breasts. Too soon, she’d donned most of her Red Riding Hood costume, and his gaze fastened on the delicacy of her wrists and ankles. He licked his chops.

“What do you think?” Sapphyra twirled for him, her attitude all sass and feminine satisfaction.

Zovier uttered his imitation of a low admiring bark. He panted despite himself, his ears pricked so high he thought the tips might touch.

“Oooh, you deserve a kiss.” In a few strides, Sapphyra stood before him. Leaning down, she embraced his head between her palms, then pressed a soft kiss on his forehead.

With the sight and scent of her inciting him to a ferociously wild desire, Zovier touched his tongue to her cheek, then keened a long whimper. She continued to hold his head, so he nuzzled her cheek with his nose.

“You are irresistible, big wolf guy.” Sapphyra kissed him again, then caressed her hands from his cheek fur. Backing away, she swept her gaze over him, and crooned. “Just give me some time to put on lipstick, then I’ll walk you and we’ll be on our way.”

As he waited, Zovier squirmed restlessly, his balls aching, and giving him fits. Gods, it was going to be a long torturous night since he couldn’t shift to human.

But, by the grand starry arch of heavens, he knew he wouldn’t have it any other way. Savagely, he wanted to be with Sapphyra, to stay by her side.

Howls beneath the grace and strength of Diana! With each passing moment, the star witch captured him, enchanted him to the sweetest distraction. If only he could persuade her to mind-listen to him.

Sapphyra didn’t know it -- as he hadn’t realized until this very moment -- but his beautiful star witch possessed the ability to release him from the curse. Her power now shone as scintillating silvery waves around her.

What had suddenly changed? Had it been her kiss?


From the corner of her eye, Sapphyra saw the ultra-intelligent dog sit up straighter, and go on the alert as they approached the main ranch house. An impressive sprawling structure, it was lit by the subtle placement of spotlights. “Bruno, you look like a sentinel.”

He answered with an almost growling sound, then yipped. “If you aren’t the smartest thing in the world. How did you ever get lost?” Sapphyra asked, as she followed the long line of cars and trucks into the designated parking area. “I sure hope no one wants you back.”

After sliding the pickup into the next available slot, Sapphyra scooped up her basket of goodies that now served as her purse, and took hold of Bruno’s leash. “Come on, you big bad wolf. Only I hope you won’t do anything really bad. If you plan to, you know like scarfing down Helen or some other attractive Red Riding Hood as a snack, let me know first, and we’ll head home.” Sapphyra chuckled at her own silliness. “That way, we’ll avoid all the really bad consequences, and have a happy ending.”

As if he understood her words, Bruno gazed at her with a golden-eyed directness that should have been unnerving. After a quick shake of his head, he offered a rumbling sound suggesting there would be no problem with his behavior.

“Good boy, let’s go.” Squirming a bit, and twisting, to turn around, Sapphyra planted her feet on the ground. Bruno followed, waiting patiently as she shut and locked the pickup’s door.

Every year since she’d lived in the Montana town, the Wolfsen clan as she thought of the extended family, had thrown a themed costume party close to Halloween. The only ones not invited were those who had somehow managed to get on their bad side. Not many that Sapphyra knew about.

At first, Sapphyra had thought it was only a measure of good will on their part, plus a way to keep in good stead with the town’s people. Now, she figured, and also psi-sensed, that the parents of the single Wolfsen men wanted to introduce them to possible wives.

Since she’d never had a crush or a hankering for any of the brothers or their cousins, but truly liked the ones she’d met, talking to them regularly, Sapphyra hadn’t been worried about knocking their fancy cowboy boots off with her attractiveness. Besides, Helen would have been considered the real beauty. So, why bother?

Sapphyra only wanted to party and have an evening’s worth of pure fun. As she always had in the past. The Wolfsen’s knew how to throw a damn fine party.

“Now that’s a wolf,” Gayle shouted toward her.

“Oh, can I pet him?” Patty moved alongside her.

“I think Bruno is fine with it. Chris found him not long ago, rescued him.” Sapphyra stroked the dog’s thick neck ruff. “He’s been an absolute sweetheart with me.”

Quicker than the words left her mouth, Sapphyra was surrounded by a bevy of women she knew, and Bruno was being stroked from nearly every direction as they continued walking toward the main entrance. The double doors had been thrown open, and bright illumination spilled onto the front walkway.

“He is a handsome beast.” Gayle slid her hand down the length of Bruno’s back.

“If he was a man, he sure could feast on my bones.” Betty laughed, clearly enjoying her thoughts.

“Are you sure the Wolfsen’s are going to be okay with you bringing him?” Kathryn asked, once she took her turn petting Bruno -- who seemed to be lapping up all the attention.

“We’ll find out. Soon,” Sapphyra answered, then felt herself shrug nervously. “The invitation did say ‘bring your own wolf’.”

“Yeah, what are you?” Hal hollered from behind them. “Just dumb or stupid? Pulling a stunt like that.”

“You’re just jealous.” Patty whirled toward him. “Because you’re not half as good-lookin’.”

“Ain’t that the truth.” Gayle tossed the snarky words over her shoulder.

“He’s welcome. Long as he behaves.” Every face turned toward Chet, who stood in the doorway, dominating the sizeable area. “And, I’m bettin’ your wolf will behave, Miss Sapphyra.”

Chet directed his gaze on Bruno with an intensity that puzzled Sapphyra, as did the fact that Bruno halted in his tracks and regarded the Wolfsen son with same palpable intensity. Then, her party wolf pressed against her side in what seemed like a possessive manner.

“Anybody want to lay odds on it?” Chet called out loudly, once he’d lifted his gaze.

“I’ll give you some action,” some of the men hollered.

“Come on in, Miss Sapphyra, ladies.” Chet tipped his gray Stetson that had fake wolf ears on the large brim. “We’ve got the chow laid out, and the music is about to begin. I’m in a mood shake a tail.”

Somewhat surprised by the humor in his voice, Saphhyra’s eyes popped wide as Chet turned. A big furry wolf tail hung from the back of his dress western pants, beneath his tan, fancy-braided jacket. She nearly chortled a laugh.

“Who’s bringing you?” she called after him. The damn words had escaped her mouth, and she’d had no chance to stop them. None whatsoever.

“That remains to be seen,” he returned, his tone close to jovial. Spinning on his heel, and facing her, Chet waited until she and Bruno entered and stood before him. “Later on, Miss Sapphyra, I’d appreciate a special consultation on that very matter.”

From the knowing twinkle in his eyes, Sapphyra knew he meant he wanted one of her fortune-telling readings.

Smiling, she gave a nod. “I’d be happy to oblige.” Chet had always treated her right. So, why not?

After a piercing glance at Bruno, Chet semi-whispered, “That’s a special wolf. Looks like he’s bonding to you. Hope you plan on keepin’ him.”


Have a Magickal Season of the Witch!


Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance ~

Monday, October 24, 2011

Fear Itself

Several hours of determined decorating had transformed Dante’s Pleasure Club from a gloomy den of iniquity that reeked of spilled booze to a Halloween-themed den of iniquity that reeked of spilled booze. Fake cobwebs and rubber bats and spiders dangled from the ceiling, authentic corn shocks stood in the corners, and each table sported a leering jack-o-lantern. These last were plastic; word of the late-night pumpkin free-for-all had reached Dante’s ears just in time for him to make a hasty substitution. Spilled liquor came with the territory, but pumpkin mash ground into his dance floor? Not in Dante’s club.

“Place is looking downright scary,” Lamar observed with a satisfied nod. “Perfecto.”

Jamie snorted. “It always looks scary, you ask me.”

“Yeah, but now it’s got flair. Speaking of which, looking good, rojo. We’re gonna knock ’em dead.”

“If we don’t get smote,” Jamie grumbled, tugging at his priest’s collar. Lamar had done himself up as a pregnant nun. “Is that the right word, smote? You’re the writer. Smited? Smitten?”

“You’re asking me? I write soft-core porn for housewives. I only know the dirty words. Now that is how you do it right.” He waved his arm in a grandiose gesture to indicate the approaching Gypsy. The dancer wore a scarlet hooded cloak over a shiny black minidress and thigh-high boots that could double as a bondage outfit. Sergei loomed behind her in his usual black hat and voluminous coat. “Let me guess,” Lamar said. “Red Wolfie Hood and the Big Bad Tiger."

Gypsy chuckled. “That’s not what I was aiming for, but I like it. You two are … ” She looked them up and down.

“Blasphemous?” Jamie said. “First word came to my mind.”

“I was going to say ‘cute,’ but I suppose yours works. I love what you’ve done here. It’s perfect.”

“We aim to scare.” Lamar leaned in, but not too closely, to scrutinize Sergei’s outfit. “I don’t get your costume. What are you, the village undertaker? Or the Old World Terminator?”

“Costume?” Sergei rumbled.

“It’s Halloween, dude. People dress to frighten.”

“Sometimes it goes past frighten, right to disturbing,” Jamie said, with a nod at Lamar’s nun getup.

“Ah. The children’s holiday.” Sergei’s mouth did something that might have been a smile. “You hope to scare cubs with this?”

“I hope to scare self-righteous tightasses. Not that we get many of those in here.” He brushed a bit of lint off his habit. “It all depends on what prods your fear gland. Me, I’m terrified of not looking fabulous. How about it, rojo? What’s the scariest thing you can think of?”

“Gay bashers.”

“Ho-kay, let’s just suck all the fun out of the room right now. Gypsy, I know you’re not afraid of anything. After all, you’re dating Godzilla.”

“Quite a few things scare me.” Gypsy’s eyes twinkled. “Don’t expect me to tell you what they are. I know all about you and your practical jokes.”

“I’d never joke with you, querida. You get even. Bet I know what scares you,” he added, looking up at Sergei's imposing height. “Ceiling fans.”

Sergei looked puzzled, then his face cleared. “Ah. Is joke.”

“Yeahhhh. C’mon, rojo, let’s get that mannequin out of the closet. We’ve got plans for the men’s room,” he confided to Gypsy.

“Don’t tell me. What I don’t know, I can’t warn Dante about.” She shook her head, watching the two trot off. “He’s wrong. They scare me. A lot.”

“No, snake is correct. Nothing frightens you.” When she didn’t respond, he encircled her slender waist with his treetrunk arm. “Worry is different story. Something worries you.”

“It’s nothing.” Gypsy leaned back and let herself melt against the strength of his powerful body. How was she supposed to tell him about the darkness she sensed in his near future? Sergei approached a turning point, a fork in the deadly path he walked. If he chose wrong it would destroy him, possibly both of them. Not the sort of things a woman murmurs while in the arms of her lover.

“You worry me,” she admitted. “What you do and who you do it for.” She turned in his arms to gaze up into his frank blue eyes. “There are shadows in your path. They swirl around you. They threaten to engulf you. That’s what frightens me.”

Any other alpha male would have crushed a punishing kiss to her mouth. Sergei merely brushed his lips across her forehead in a feather’s caress. “I have lived a long time. I intend to go on living. I have you to live for now.”

“Others may not let you.”

He didn’t reply. Though they never spoke of it, he knew his sensitive she-wolf knew all about his past and his current profession, if not the precise details. He had been careful to keep these details from her up till now. Recently circumstances had changed. When word got out, he would not be able to keep his life from her any more.

There was no circumventing the order. The word had come from Shere Khan himself.

“It must be brutal, and public,” his crime lord employer said. “Damien Hancock is still of value to us. I’m sure he’ll appreciate the favor.”

“She is only a girl. With cub.”

“She’s mate to an alpha wolf and carries a new heir to the Hancock pack. I don’t think Damien would care to be deposed this late in the game. He, and Talbot’s Peak, need to be sent a message. Be sure to add those little touches you’re so good at. Make it memorable.” Shere Khan smiled at Sergei. “After all, I’ll be watching.”

Sergei tightened his arms around Gypsy until she whimpered for breath. He eased up at once. What frightens me? he thought. I will tell you what frightens me, my firewolf. If I follow my heart, I will die. If I follow my orders, you will despise me. It’s the loathing in those glorious golden eyes that I fear to see. More than your death, and far more than my own.

“I don’t want to think sad thoughts,” she said. “It’s Halloween. In this town that’s as big a deal as the summer solstice. We can be happy at least until then, I believe.” She nuzzled against his neck. “It’s a little short notice, but do you want me to find you a costume?”

The disguise he wore had already brought terror and despair to far too many. “I will be what I am,” he told her. “That will have to be enough.”

Sunday, October 23, 2011

Kandy Apple and Her Hellhounds ~ Magick: Call Forth the Thunderbeat

With the powerful forces of Halloween rising, I thought I’d share a snippet-excerpt of Kandace, my heroine, as she casts forth her magick to defeat her enemies -- thirteen evil sorceresses from another world.

Chapter Twenty-Seven:
Call Forth the Thunderbeat

Kandace closed her eyes, seeking the exact words to cast her spell of destruction. Mother, I need you.

Torrents of starry energy traveled through her, as if her very blood had been transmuted. Raising their hands high, Kandace waited until the words formed before her mind’s eye.

Shrieks of triumph sliced the air toward Kandace. “Daughter of Affrony, as our slave, you will behave. The black power of our will conquers your pitiful—”

Simultaneously, Zin and Zol’s force spewed inside her as if a giant volcano erupted. Kandace floated, her force barely contained by her flesh. When her feet dangled above the loft floor, the sorceress’s chant stopped.

“Quevj.” Kandace heard her voice boom. “I call upon the four sacred winds.

“The East Wind of the Beginning.
“The South Wind of the Sowing.
“The West Wind of the Completion.
“The North Wind of the Restoration.
“Your evil is swept from this world forever.
“By the power of Good, you return never.”

Blasts of wind buffeted Kandace as the sorceresses screamed a cacophony of curses. Keeping her eyes closed, Kandace focused, then chanted, “Quevj, I call upon the precious waters.

Blurb ~

Kandace doesn’t know why she’s a real witch. Despite her powers, she can’t find her bio parents. When the Tuxedo Twins tempt her with knowledge about her heritage at a charity event, Kandace agrees to dance with the mysterious Supernaturals. Unexpectedly, they are threatened by the omnipresent evil she’s been warned about in her dreams. To keep from being enslaved, Kandace brings forth her greater magick. But, to save her homeworld, she needs her hellhounds.

Zolivar and Zindale, two of Hades’ most mission-accomplished Hellhounds, see a witch sliding down the bannister after her heist of a painting. Spellbound, they know they’ve found just the right Kandy Apple to lick for Halloween. With every passion, Zin and Zol woo their chosen witch. Yet, will their Triad mate stay once she learns they can’t fall in love like humans? Or, will she return to her homeworld? Their very lives are at stake.

SEXCERPT and Ebook available at ~ ~ NOW IN PRINT for HALLOWEEN at the usual vendors.

Have a Magickal Season of the Witch!


Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance ~

Saturday, October 22, 2011

Pumpkin Carving Shifter Style

“Holy shit that is very life like.” Aaron stared at his roommate and gulped. The three dimensional carving left little to the imagination.

Dugal smiled, overly pleased with himself. He’d worked hard for three days getting each of her proportions right. Her bust filled the string bikini top to almost over flowing. Along her hips lay the partly tied strings keeping her bottom from falling and exposing her ripe womanly charms.

“Dude, where the fuck---“Aaron stopped and reached out toward the elaborately carved pumpkin.

“Keep your hands off.” Dugal grabbed Aaron’s hand. “No one touches my lady.”

“Your lady?” Aaron snickered and snorted.

Tory nudged Sally. “You’d think they’d found the real thing.”

Sally grinned and winked. “There is a life like quality to her. But you know art is in the beholder’s eye. All I see is one hell of mess once that thing begins to rot.”

Tory clapped her hand over her mouth trying to hold back her laughter. “Now Sally just because Josh and Anthony put you in charge of this year’s pumpkin carving contest doesn’t mean you get to cast a vote.”

“Oh I could care less who wins. It’s the cleanup that is the pain. Kent has cooked, roasted and backed enough pumpkin that he swears we will never get rid of the smell in the kitchen.”

“It seems this year we have more carvers than before. Who’d thought playing soccer with the left over pumpkins would be such a hit.” Tory shook her head.

“Soccer?” Sally leaned closer. “What animal decided this one?’

“Several,” a male voice offered from behind Sally and Tory.

Kent moved behind the bar as he closed the kitchen door. “I use to like pumpkin. Gods and Goddesses save me from a group of sport crazed shifters who decided to play keep away with the entries.”

Sally nodded. “I found the left overs in the park across the street. The brawl broke out around two am as the full moon rose. Seems someone decided that American football vs. European football, aka soccer needed defending. Without the real balls to play with---well you can imagine what they decided to use instead.”

Kent shrugged. “I know that next year, Josh is going to have to come up with a better way to keep things in check. We got our only entry and winner. The naked lady pumpkin.”

Aaron smiled and punched his roommate in the arm. “See I told ya she’d win.”

Dugal just nodded and grinned. He was too busy remembering the view he’d seen last summer down on the clothing optional beach.