Tuesday, July 31, 2012

Her Midnight Stardust Cowboys ~ Snowball Fight

Zance enjoying the snow in his wolf form.

Tuesday, last day of July, howls and yowls, shapeshifter lovers.

Yesterday was wacky-busy, and despite my best plans time ran out to write a flash scene.

Currently I'm penning the final chapters of my WIP, now over 75,000 words. It's been beastly hot for the last several weeks so when I was looking at adding another sex/passion/love scene -- because that's how the story flowed -- for the sake of my sanity, I decided to start with a snowball fight between my heroine, Sherilyn, and her two shapeshifting cowboys, Dontoya, a black cougar, and Zance, a timber wolf.

This works perfectly because it's wintertime in Talbot's Peak, and just before New Year's Eve.

***This scene is 'unedited' and X-Rated.***


~ From the Kougar’s Writing Den ~

Her Midnight Stardust Cowboys

Chapter Fifty-Eight

Sherilyn shrieked in protest and delight as Zance's snowball smacked the back of her head. She barely felt it, given her cowboys had bundled her up within an inch of her life.

Good gawd, she was having fun. The late afternoon sun sparkled like crystalline dust on the blanket of new snow, and for now, the horror movie events of last night faded into the background.

She swerved on instinct, and another snowball sailed past her. Joy fizzed inside Sherilyn as if she'd drank several cherry phosphates, the soda fountain treat she and her grammy Louisa had always shared together.

"We got her on the run." Zance whooped.

"No fair!" Sherilyn hollered. "Two against one."

"You've been whuppin' our asses, darlin'."

Dontoya's lightly packed snowball smashed against her arm. Almost knee deep in snow, Sherilyn plowed her way through trying to run for a shallower area between two high drifts.

She needed a fresh supply of the white wet stuff to keep pummeling her dogged pursuers. Or, was that a dogged and a catted pursuer?

For a while Zance and Dontoya had taken turns being on her side during their spontaneous snowball fight. Her good aim had gotten her into trouble, plus her fast reflexes. So many of her snowballs hit their handsome faces, they'd finally ganged up on her.

Huffing and puffing, Sherilyn halted between the two large drifts. Scooping up the new fallen snow, she quickly formed her weapon. With a twist of her body, she hurled it at Dontoya, who led the charge.

"Damn, woman, right between my eyes." Dontoya stopped in his tracks, and grabbed up a handful of snow.

"Where'd you learn to throw like that?" Zance demanded, after dodging her snowball enough so it glanced off his cheek.

"Lots of boys in my neighborhood." Sherilyn packed more snow between her gloved palms. "It was either learn how to fight back. Or go home crying like a girl."

Just in time, Sherilyn angled herself so Dontoya's small snowball smooshed against her shoulder instead of her head. "Missed," she taunted.

"You sure ain't crying like a girl." Zance split off from Dontoya, obviously intending to ambush her from behind.

"One time of having cold snow rubbed in my face woke up my inner warrior goddess." Rearing back, Sherilyn aimed for Dontoya's kisser, then ducked the snowball Zance fired at the back of her head.

"Dang it, Z-dog, your magic juice is working too well on our mate. She's turned into a super woman." Dontoya dived into a bank of snow. Rolling, he grabbed a huge handful of snow, and began rapidly shaping his snowball.

"Someone's going to have to teach her who the bosses are."

Zance charged toward her, his progress hindered by the waist-high snowdrift. Sherilyn would have laughed at the comical picture he made, pumping his legs and leaping, his arms flying about, if she hadn't been madly packing snow.

"Oh yeah, bad ass wolf." Sherilyn pelted him with two of her crudely made snowballs.

Stepping back, she prepared to flee even as she whipped her head around to locate Dontoya. With his snowball about hit her square in the jaw, Sherilyn jerked her face out of the way.

Suddenly off balance, she stumbled backward. About to regain her balance, her feet caught, then tangled because of her too-large boots. "Oh, no," she moaned.

Sherilyn struggled to untangle her feet as she toppled backward, but she was crap out of luck.

"Got her now," Zance shouted with male glee.

"Got her," Dontoya's low purr entered Sherilyn's ear.

The next instant, his powerful arms captured her, preventing her fall. He steadied her against his braced legs, and Sherilyn started to melt against him.

"Why hell, cougar cowboy, you might as well be a hot burning stove. But this cowgirl doesn't give up the fight that easily."

"She doesn't?" Dontoya growled sexy as you please.

"No." Sherilyn twisted back and forth like a madwoman, attempting to wiggle out his hold.

"Got a wild scratchin' kitten, pardner. Give me some help here."

"She's a wild one alright."

Zance's whip-hard body nearly slammed into her backside. God, he felt sinfully delicious as he trapped her between himself and Dontoya.

Before Sherilyn knew it, her cowboys hauled her downward. They landed together on the cold softness of the snowdrift. Zance and Dontoya piled on top of her instantly, caging her between them.

Damn, oh double cowboy damn. Nothing felt better than being Dontoya and Zance's captive.

"Time for some teachin'," Zance huskily drawled.

"Looks like I'm at your mercy, you big bad wolf." Sherilyn hesitated, clamping her lips against the natural followup. But the question won out. "Are you going to eat me?"

Zance's eyes glittered a feral gold, and with a possessive growl, he dived his un-gloved hand between her thighs. His bold claim of her sex mound, and the friction of her jeans, did tingly-wicked things to Sherilyn's insides.

"Is the snow melting?" she breathy-asked.

"We can make it melt, sweetheart." Zance kneaded her pussy, the pressure strong and sensual.

Sweltering with desire, Sherilyn moaned, and arched against his palm.

"Nobody around," Dontoya raspy purred. "Why don't we do some meltin'."

He seized her hood, then cupped the top of her head. With his other hand, Dontoya unzipped her parka just enough to caress her breast. He'd removed his glove, and the soft flannel shirt she wore only enhanced the wickedly sweet sensations.

Quickly burning with ferocious need, Sherilyn burst out, "You two are lighting my internal fires..."

Zance nipped her lips with his before she finished speaking -- tiny quick nips that warmed their mouths fast and were driving her crazy with passion. Sherilyn tried to kiss, to nibble his lips in return, but her man-wolf ruled without compromise. Not that she could complain, given pleasure swamped her.

All the while, Dontoya pinched and plucked her flannel-covered, pebbled nipple, his rhythm deliberate. Sherilyn surrendered to the steamy need blasting through her.

Unable to do anything else, she writhed against her two hard-bodied cowboys. Zance and Dontoya kept her trapped, their thighs on top of hers, and she loved it.

Sex heaven, Sherilyn thought, I must be in sexual heaven. For real.

Dontoya stroked his hand over her belly, the movement unzipping her parka. With slow finesse, he unsnapped her jeans, and Sherilyn's clit did a little twisty dance of anticipation.

Zance lifted his head, deserting her lips. "Dang, sweetheart. I felt that big bud of yours. Just beggin' for my attention."

Dontoya slid the zipper of her jeans down, even as Zance continued fondling her pussy mound. Sherilyn cried out, and bucked as much as she could against Zance's hand.

"Let's get these jeans pulled down some." Zance raised upward fast, and as Dontoya removed his thigh from hers, he straddled her legs. "I want to do some big bad wolf eatin' on that tasty pussy of yours."

Lightning seemed to streak along the length of her clit, and Sherilyn's eyes shot open. "Oh. My. Gawd."

Zance gripped the waistband of her jeans, and nearly jerked them over her hips.
Sherilyn heaved breaths, wanton from having her sex exposed, from the feeling of her thighs captured tightly by her jeans.

"Aren't your hands going to freeze?" she managed to utter, as Zance slid his palms beneath her bare ass.

"Darlin', I'm putting gloves beneath his hands." Dontoya's husky purr traveled through Sherilyn's middle, teasing her sex lips.

Zance lifted her butt enough so the gloves could be placed, then gripped her cheeks deliciously hard. The next moment, she felt Dontoya unbutton her shirt, his touch smooth but quick.

His icy mouth claimed her nipple, and Sherilyn keened a cry of surprise. The blissful burn as he sucked and tugged, his hand molding her breast...Sherilyn drowned in the ecstasy of it, and went limp.

Zance strongly nuzzled the cleft of her pussy. When he penetrated her slit with his tongue, and slipped the point back and forth over her swollen clit, Sherilyn helplessly whimpered.

Already out of her mind with pleasure, she succumbed to even more as Zance pushed his lips deeper. He nibbled with his lips and lightly nipped with his teeth, his alpha possessiveness obvious.

"Zance, Dontoya," she gasped, trembling with bliss inside.


Wishing you shapeshifting love on the wild side...


Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance ~

Monday, July 30, 2012

Alternative Lifestyles

(I kind of hit the wall this week, so you get what you get.)

“Oh jeez. Ted, is that you?”

“Hey, Stu. What are you doing up here?”

“Looking for you. So that’s what happened to the goat hide. Conrad said it was missing from the lodge. Dog, if you want to sniff goat, they’ve got colognes for that. Or candles. My girlfriend has this incense burner—”

“You don’t get it, Stu. This is me, the real me, as I really am. This is what I was meant to be.”

“Naked and wrapped in a goat hide?”

“A goat, Stu. I’ve always known it. I’m a goat trapped in a wolf’s body.”

“Scat, not this again. You found that human’s still, didn’t you?”

“I was born a goat. My sign is Capricorn. It’s fate.”

“It’s you being a complete and total asshat. Tell me you’re hunting that herd over there and not really trying to join them.”

“They won’t let me get too close. We’re just getting used to each other. Yeah, okay, I’m kind of stalking that straggler there. I figured out I can’t go goat all at once. I kind of have to ease into it. They say if you eat an animal you take on its characteristics.”

“Then you must have had squirrel for breakfast, because you’re nuts.”

“No, I had a groundhog. Look, he’s been falling behind the herd all day. I figure I’ll put him out of his misery, spend a couple days absorbing his goatiness, and by Thursday—”

“Uh, Ted? Your goat’s got a rifle.”


“Okay, you, hold it right there. What the hell? Are you wearing a goat suit too?”

“Don’t shoot! Don’t shoot! I just wanted to get close to the herd.”

“Yeah, me too. Hunting season starts next week. I wanted to scout the territory and learn their habits. I know this looks a little nutty, but it used to work for the Indians. Are you two hunters? You from around here?”

“Oh, yeah. Us and our pack—that is, our lodge, we hunt up here all the time. Ted, keep your mouth shut. He’s a human.”

“So eating him’s out of the question?”

“Yeah, I’d say so. Look, man, it’ll be getting dark soon. These cliffs can be treacherous to run around on in the dark. I came up here after my brother. We can’t leave you out here by yourself. Why not come on back to the lodge with us? We’ll have a couple of brewskies and I’ll tell you where the best game is.”

“Well … I don’t know … ”

“Me either, Stu. What’s up with you?”

“The pack’s what’s up. They’re out here and they found your trail. How bad do you really want to be a goat, Ted?”

“Um … not that bad.”

“I didn’t think so. Now imagine if they found some monkey in a goat suit with a rifle traipsing around on our turf. What do you think would happen?”

“Hancock would hand us our tails for breakfast?”

“Dipped in maple syrup. So what about it, mister? What do you say?”

“Beer sounds good. This thing’s damn heavy and it smells like shit. I don’t know what I was thinking. What was that? Are those wolves?”

“No. No wolves, not around here. It’s dogs or hippies or something. C’mon, we better shag it if we want to get off this mountain before it gets dark. Ted, just leave that here. I’ll tell Conrad the puppies tore it up.”

“Thanks, bro. I love you, dog.”

“You hump my leg and I’ll rip your throat out. Hey, mister, you want to keep that gun pointed somewhere else? Yeah, that’s better. Don’t worry about all that howling. It’s dogs or whatever. They do it all the time.”

# # #

Up on the cliff face, two bearded mountain goats watched the werewolf and the two in the goatskins depart. The howls had veered off in another direction, so the pack posed no threat for the moment. The one billy turned to the other and went, “Baaahhhhhh.”

Translation: That’s it. We’re ordering grenades.

Saturday, July 28, 2012

Home and Hearth Are Where The Heart Is

Jackson pushed his Stetson back further on his head.  So much sand and water.  He glanced down at his bare feet.  His name brand jeans rolled up to mid-calf greeted him as his eyes continue upward.  In his left hands, he held his battered cowboy boots.  

“How the friggin’ shit did I end up here?” He winced at his words along with his tone.  He knew how he got here.  It still didn’t make any sense.  Not that magick and wishes made sense.  He’d followed his heart and her.  Love did weird things.  He didn’t know how weird until he met her.

Jackson sighed as another wave swept inward, stopping near his sand covered toes.  It felt good to be out of his boots.  The sun warmed more than his neck and hands.  The heat off the sand caressed his tired worn soles and moved up his legs trying to cajole him into laying down and pulling all the warmth inside.  His heart beat almost in time to the rhythm of the waves pounding the shore with each lap of their strength.  

Two blocks up the center street of town, Abebi worked.  Her small shop catered to the locals and their artisan ways. 

 Easels and paints filled one part of the storefront.  Midway bins of multi-colored chalks, art pads, and crayons took up one side.  In the back corner, a child-sized table sat with different sizes of coloring books strewn upon it.  Opposite it, racks held adult paint sets and complex artistic instruction books.  Near the cash register, where he’d seen her as he’d watched her through the window, easy to do items lined the shelves.  Her hand written sign offering half hour art lessons caught his eye.

Abebi rang up the largest sale of the day.  The grade school’s summer art program began in two weeks.  They came to her for supplies every year.  

 This year they wanted her to teach a weeklong course on how to follow your heart through art.  The instructor smiled when Abebi stuttered and stammered.    She sketched and dabbled in watercolors.  Nothing of fame or even local interest.  She drew, painted, and colored for her own enjoyment.  After the instructor explained why they wanted her to teach, she’d agreed.  Too many of the children didn’t understand following their passion and letting their creativity out.  Some of their parents could barely afford to pay the rent or put food on the table.   If for a few hours a day, she could help the kids ignite their heart light and find a moment of value, she’d do it.

She looked up and caught his reflection in the window.  Jackson had found her.  Not a bad thing.  How she wasn’t sure.  Two full moons prior they’d run through the pastures and woods of Talbot’s Peak backcountry hunting nothing but each other.  Their howls joined the other wolves racing through the area mate hunting.  She knew those nights of passion were just that.  Passion come and gone---or so she thought.  No he’d followed her home.  How she wasn’t sure. 

Abebi’s hand caressed her flat stomach.  A tiny flutter joined by another told her what those nights summed up to.  Shape shifters knew instinctively when they caught.  Pregnancy mattered amongst the natural shifters.  Jackson’s family was one of those.  Hers no one knew.  Mutant and mutt were the kindest words whispered about her before she’d escaped the pack that pushed her out. Talbot’s Peak was but a stop on her journey to find her home.  She’d found it here amongst the sand, sea, and sun.  The local pack of sea wolves didn’t care where she originated or how.  They co-opted her in shortly after they‘d discovered each other running in the foothills.

Sea wolves loved the beach, the sand, and the sea as much as they loved running through the hills.  Many speculated on their breed and origins.  One legend stood out in their lore above all others. Two lone wolves, male and female, found each other.  Their first full moon together, they’d morphed into Native Americans counterpart. Each told their story.  As the night progressed, their howls and yaps brought others to them.  The others told their stories and why they had no pack.  By the first tinges of dawn, a new pack formed.  All agreed each had their worth, their beauty, and their purpose.  None were without a home or a hearth to call their own.  

Abebi found hers with them.  Jackson might too.  She didn’t know.  She wasn’t sure if his howled love song that night was real or faked.  His presence said maybe it was real.


Happy Weekend Gang!

I hope you are enjoying summer.  We're busy around the spice homestead working, reading, and enjoying each other's company.  Our octet morphed into a quintet for now. People come in and out of your life for reasons we sometimes don't understand.  They're wished well on their journey.

Remember to keep a book or two handy to share with your spice and loves.  


Friday, July 27, 2012

Dragon Dating...Step One

“I will not do this!”  Erol had reached his absolute limit with the pesky camel’s insistence that he follow her directions to the letter.  Tuxedo’s and dance lessons were bad, but this he just would not do.

“You have to.” Her patience wore thin, he could tell, but he would stand firm on this.  He would not go up there and do as she asked.

“Why does her father not bring her to my castle as is the way it should be?”

Her eyes rolled again and she counted to three through deep breaths.  “And do you have a castle?”

Hmm, yes that might be a problem.  He’d been scouting out area in this Talbot’s Peak to build a new castle, but had yet to find the perfect place.  The mountains were good, what with their caves and all, but he much preferred the submerged privacy found beneath the underground ocean. 


“No, not a castle as of yet, but I have the perfect grotto picked out.  The jewel bespeckled walls will be a fine background for her beauty.  Yes, her father shall bring her there and leave her for me.”

A choking sound beside him stole his attention away from the plans he was making for his future bride.

“Oh Erol…”

The crazy camel in the car seat next to him was laughing – at him?  How dare she!  “I do not see anything funny about what I said.”

“Of course you don’t, and let me assure you what you said, while romantic in part, is in no way funny…”

“Then why do you laugh and mop away your tears?”

“Because it’s laugh or cry, Erol.”

Well that made no sense to him.  Were all females so confusing?  Would his mate be reduced to tears at the slightest of things—gah, he truly hoped not.  In fact, the first order of business would be instructing her to not produce those cumbersome bits of emotion.  Yes, that would do the trick.

“We may leave now…move this conveyance of yours back to my forge.  You will need directions to the grotto in order to give to her father.  I’ll assume he knows how to get underground…once there go to the rightist-most point on the beach and wade out until he hits the drop off…”

“Whoa, stop right there, Erol.  I’ll not be instructing Greely’s father to chain her up inside your Grotto.  That is not how things are done…remember 21st century.  You will get your ass out of my car and go up to her door and respectfully, ask her to dinner or coffee or bloody high tea if that’s what you like.  Now get!”

Erol protected his bits and pieces from the suddenly kicking camel pushing him from the ridiculously sized transport she drove. “That was a bit rude, don’t you think.”

“Go up to her door and ask her out…do it right or you’ll feel my hooves alongside your head!”


Greely wiped her eyes for like the thousandth time over the last few days.  She still couldn’t believe she’d been marked as unacceptable at the pond.  She would never live down that humiliation.  Her mother had, of course, been the first to call with disappointment in her voice and a suggestion that she move to a different town.

Damn that blacksmith.  She’d never done anything to him but admire him from afar.

The knock at the front door was an unwelcome surprise, but even more so was who she found on the stoop.  “You’ve got a lot of darn nerve showing up here!”

“Go get me your father, fair one.  I would speak to him.”

“Are you kidding me?” Greely pushed at the barbarian’s chest in hopes of moving him away from her door, but he was built like a granite sculpture.  It would take more than thirty of her to move him in anyway significant. “I’m an adult.  I don’t live with my mommy and daddy.”

“Who then protects you from the unscrupulous defilers out there?”

“You mean men like you…”  Greely stopped, mid-sentence, arrested by the look in the blacksmiths eyes.  Fear lived there, not annoyance or disgust as she thought she would see.

“I will never harm you, only cherish you.”

Right.  Did he really think she could believe him?  “Is that why you had me banned from pebble pond?  Made me unacceptable by my own kind?”

“No, I merely staked my claim.  Like the gifts on your doorstep.”

“Those were from you?”  Greely didn’t know what to say.  The gifts were both sweet and confusing…much like the man it would seem, but she didn’t know if she could trust him or even if she wanted to.  Scratch that…she wanted to, with every stupid part of her libido. 

“Yes, did you like them?”

“They were…interesting.”

“Excellent.  Now go wash the mess from your face and bring along your coat.  I will take you to your father’s side for protection and I will talk to him about your future.”

Greely was stunned by the sheer audacity of this man.  “I protect myself, Mr. Blacksmith.”  Greely slammed the door in his face, happy that she’d had the strength to shut him out, but depressed that she was still a major player in the Doomed Love Club.

May you each find a jewel bespeckled Grotto of your own this weekend, filled with a sexy dragon who knows how to ask for a date, of course!


Wednesday, July 25, 2012

Can you guess the guy?

So I'm having a crancky, don't-want-nothing kind of day. I know I have my flash drive, but I don't know where, so I can't give you a something I've already written. Therefore you guys are getting man-candy guessing game.

Here's the challenge: Can you name the now-famous actor who was in these pictures from back in the day. I'll give hints.

Picture# 1 (the guy in the middle wearing white trunks)

He's a Scot through and through and has been a "man of mystery." He's not the original, but many consider him the best there's ever been. Extra hint: he's in his 70s now but is still quite the hunk.

Picture# 2

He's English by birth and has also "bean" a man of mystery, but is best known for never, ever making it to the end of a movie without being killed off.

Picture# 3

This one's an extremely prolific American actor who is much parodied for his ability to deliver silly lines absolutely dead-pan with out coming across as cheesy. In 2006, some internet joker started a rumor that he was running for president.

Can you guess who these young hunks grew up to be?Answers are in the comments section!

Tuesday, July 24, 2012

Silkari ~ Martian Cat Shapeshifter and Whistleblower

Tuesday howls and yowls, shapeshifter lovers.

The terrible weeks of high heat have taken their toll. I'm exhausted. I only hope my flash scene this week is properly entertaining. It is continued from last week's flash, Wolf Dawg, Bankster Bounty Hunter.

I couldn't find a pic of my heroine, Silkari, in her cat form, so her human form will have to do.

Stay cool and safe wherever you are.


Silkari ~ Martian Cat Shapeshifter and Whistleblower

Silkari guessed by his virile canine scent, and the amber greenish shine of his eyes, that her contact was most likely a wolf shapeshifter. What specific breed or species she couldn't guess.

There was something a bit odd about his scent, and it tickled her nose. Not in a threatening way. No, he might as well have worn a sign on his broad-as-a-mountain chest that said 'Mr. Trustworthy. Damsels in Distress Wanted'.

"Dawg is the handle." Her contact spoke after several large bites of his hot fudge sundae. "Forgot to introduce myself. Could say it's because you're a distractingly beautiful woman."

Was that sincerity in his voice? Worn thin, Silkari didn't know if her cat radar detected anything right as far as a man flattering her, or simply being charmingly polite. But her survival radar remained sharp, on target.

"Dawg. The name fits you. We have unwanted company, Dawg."

For a split second his gaze pierced her. "Yeah, they're bounty hunters. Don't you worry, kitten. I'll take care of 'em when the time comes."

"All I do is worry." Silkari sighed and watched him shovel in the sundae. "I think, by now, my nine lives are up."

Once again, his gaze made her it's bull's eye. Silkari didn't flinch, but she definitely felt disconcerted. No meow-doubt about that. Of course, the entire man would have been deliciously disconcerting, if she hadn't been close to exhaustion, and fighting for her life.

Truth to herself, she would have been her purring her words. Instead she struggled to speak coherently.

"Can't let anything happen to you." Dawg grinned, showing his large white teeth. "I got a rep to protect."

His teasing tone scratched an itch Silkari didn't know she had, and she offered a semblance of a smile. Planting her elbow on the table, she rested her chin on her hand, and mumbled, "All I want to do is get the contents of this bag to a safe place, then find a comfy spot, curl up and visit dream land."

"Got a real safe place for you and the bag's contents." Dawg scooped out the last cream-saturated bite of fudge topping and cleaned the spoon off with relish.

"Those bounty hunters...they look ridiculous holding ice cream cones." Silkari twisted one corner of her mouth in an instant of amusement. "At least, they're heading out the door. I'd rather they ambush me outside than endanger anyone in here."

"They'll pick their time and place. But I got their odor. I'll smell 'em miles away, kitten."

Silkari weakly nodded, then eyed the third banana split coming her way. The owner of the ice cream parlor had to be an absolute angel.

Not only did 'Kalindi', the name on her tag, make the best splits Silkari had ever eaten -- and she'd made a career of tasting every kind of banana split she could search out -- but the woman hadn't made a snide comment or given her the 'you're gonna get fat' look when she'd ordered a second one.

Granted, Kalindi would want the sale, but still there'd been a rare kindness in the depths of her eyes. With the terrible stress and distress Silkari had endured for over a year, she soaked in Kalindi's compassion like the parched ground soaked in rain.

Still starving, Silkari's gaze remained glued on the banana split as the beautifully prepared ice cream treat was placed before her. She'd been on the run from the corporate assassins for several weeks now, with little time to eat.

"Courtesy of Dawg," Kalindi crooned.

Glancing up, Silkari caught Kalindi's amused eye roll and her good-humored point toward Dawg. After a radiant smile at them both, she departed.

Were those wings on her back? Silkari squinted, but didn't see the faint gleaming outline she'd thought she'd just witnessed.

"Enjoy, kitten. You look downright hungry."

"Thank you. Too many missed meals," Silkari muttered as she picked up her spoon, and aimed for the strawberry ice cream with the pineapple on top.

"Take your time," he encouraged in that baritone rumble of his, the one that rumbled her insides with forbidden yearnings. After all, she had a fiancee, even if he was currently stationed on Mars.

So, instead of staring at the super hunky, *she could crawl all over him and lick cream off every muscled inch of him* man, who was her contact, Silkari surrendered to her hunger. She lost herself as she savored each and every mouthful of the heavenly banana split.

Silkari practically scraped out the creamy remains. Closing her eyes, she held the spoon up, and slowly licked, relishing the last drops.

"The ice cream here certainly lives up to the name of this place, the Heavenly Chocolate & Ice Creamery." She spoke without looking at him, suddenly aware of what Dawg must think after that little sex show, even if she hadn't meant to play temptress.

"Never been entertained in quite that way," he growly rasped.

Silkari dared a quick glance at him with one eye. No mistake about it, Dawg wanted her beneath him, his cock plunging inside her. Bad, he wanted it real bad.

"I have a fiancee," she forced out, the words barely above a whisper.

"Now that's one problem easily solved, kitten." Dawg straightened, and his imposing size seemed to tower over her.

She didn't shrink back. Silkari couldn't. Some sort of magnetic force pulled her toward him, and refused to release her.

This was not happening,
she told herself. But, denial had never been in her nature.

"He's on Mars. He has powers..."

Like the rapid rise of a thunderstorm, savage anger clouded Dawg's eyes. "He let you..." He gritted his teeth. "Go through this alone." Leaning forward, he continued in a low guttural voice. "Mars or wherever, I'm about to pound that damn ugly bastard into the dirt, and let his carcass rot."

The fierce impact of Dawg's words, and his absolute determination to carry them out, hit Silkari between the eyes. She was struck dumb. Not a single thought formed inside her head, let alone passed between her lips.

"Come on, kitten." He seized her hand, then her all-important bag. "We're gettin' out of here."

They moved toward the door fast, with Dawg almost tugging her along. "Bill me," he called out to Kalindi.

"No problem. Dante already covered you, big guy."

"What...what about the bounty hunters?" Silkari managed to speak to the solid wall that was his back, once they were on the sidewalk, and he'd paused to check the traffic.

"They get in my way, and there won't be enough of 'em left to feed an ant, let alone be a decent dinner for a whole colony."

He spun around quicker than she could blink, and Silkari's nose was a mere inch from his massive chest. "And yeah, kitten, I know the ants on Mars are as big as jackrabbits."

"You..." He tilted her face upward, his fingers unbelievably gentle beneath her chin. "You know about Mars?" she asked.

"I studied martial arts with Yupaulo. A long time ago. Yes, I know what Mars was. I don't know what Mars is now." Dawg caught her as she collapsed from utter fatigue and perfect shock. "Kitten. Silkari."

"Please...get me out of here. I'll, I'll explain later." With some of her strength returning, Silkari added, "Besides, you look silly holding that flower-covered bag."


Wishing you shapeshifting love on the wild side...


Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance ~

Monday, July 23, 2012

So You Think Your Dragon Can Dance

“I don’t understand,” Erol said. “How is performing a dance supposed to bring my chosen mate to me? And why must I wear this—” He tugged irritably at the collar of his stiff white dress shirt. “Uncomfortable costume?”

Karma automatically adjusted his tie for him. “You’ve never worn a tux before, have you? Well, dragon up and get used to it, buster. Formal wear’s required for the supperclub. When you bring Greely here, you’re going to look fabulous. Your dancing has to match.”

“Is this one of those inexplicable mammalian mating rituals?” This time he yanked at his waistband. “If so, I don’t see any point to it. Greely is mine. I don’t need to cavort around like an idiot to draw her to my side.”

“You want to keep her there? Then take her out to dinner. Learn to dance. Shower her with attention.” Karma’s teeth flashed in a sardonic smile. “Prove to her what a catch you are.”

“Of course I’m a catch. Any woman can see it. Why doesn’t she?”

Maybe, Karma thought, because Greely had a brain in her head. Granted, Erol filled out a tux like nobody’s business. But physical attractiveness got old really fast, as Karma had learned repeatedly over the millennia. Luckily for him, Erol had a good heart. He might actually be worthy of Greely’s love, once Karma sanded off some of that draconian arrogance. The male cluelessness was another matter, but she was game for anything if it meant her friend would benefit.

“Look. Here’s the deal. We gals are suckers for a romantic man. You’ve made a good start with the gifts. Now you have to step up your game. This sitting around waiting for her to make the move won’t cut it. You’re going to have to ask her out.”

“What, go to her? But that’s not how it’s done. The man shows interest and the woman responds by giving herself over to him. I’ve made my interest known. She should respond.”

“Yeah, I can see how well that’s worked. No wonder your kind is so rare. Obviously your way isn’t working. Why not try mine? It’s one little dance lesson. It isn’t going to kill you.”

“Someone may die today,” Erol muttered under his steamy breath.

“Good afternoon, kiddies!” The dancing instructor, Paul (he pronounced it “Pah-ool”) sauntered in, briskly clapping his hands. Beside him walked a young woman in a floor-length Oktoberfest costume. “Please forgive Sivakka’s attire. I pulled her off work for this. You here for the ballroom lessons?”

“He is.” Karma indicated Erol. She looked around. “Are we it?”

“You’re the dragon, right? Then you get private lessons. Dante’s orders. Dragons tend to get a little, uh, hot under the collar when other males are around. Especially other male dragons. The females—don’t get me started.” He looked Erol up and down, and licked his lips. “It’s you and me, big boy.”

“I’m not dancing with a man!”

“No, of course not,” Paul said quickly. He motioned Sivakka forward. “Sivakka will guide you through the steps, while I call instructions from over there. Way over there.”

Paul started up the recorded music. Sivakka took Erol’s hand and guided the other to her waist. “Light on your feet, like you’re flying,” she said. “It’s just like a glide, nice and easy. You don’t need to dig your claws into your partner. As long as you’re nice to her, she won’t try to run away.”

Erol smirked. “No woman has ever run from me.”

Sivakka smirked right back. “I’ll just bet.”

They glided and twirled to the music for a couple of minutes, until Erol started to blow steam. For a long-lived species, dragons grew bored with surprising alacrity. “All right, we can stop now. I’ve got the hang of it.”

“My toes are screaming otherwise. Light on your own feet, not mine.”

Smoke curled out of Erol’s nostrils. This impertinent female required a lesson of her own. “Listen, wench—”

He stumbled as an image suddenly burst into his thoughts—a titanic serpentine beast with massive flippers and a sinuous neck and tail. The creature was as large as a dragon. Perhaps larger. With the mental image came words, in Sivakka’s warning drawl.

No, you listen. That’s me in my natural form. My kind is even older than yours. We know how to handle dragons. You adjust that attitude right now, little boy, or I’ll douse you like a campfire. Are we clear?

Dry-mouthed, Erol nodded.

Good boy. Now, over the next hour I’m going to turn you into Fred Astaire, and you’re going to show your girl the night of her life. What she does with you afterwards is up to her. And a-one, two, three, one, two three—

Across the room, Karma watched Sivakka’s moves, physical and otherwise, impressed. “She’s a Nessie?”

“I know. I thought they were legends. I don’t know how Dante finds these people. She has standing orders to help me out with the more dangerous students. You know, in case of sudden, unexpected fires and that.”

Karma nodded. If any shifter could get the better of a dragon … “Looks like she’s got him under control.”

“Thank God for that. I have no idea where the fire extinguishers are. Would you like to join in?” He held out his hand to her. “On the house.”

Karma smiled. Why not? Even though she’d been around when most of these moves had been invented, she never turned down the chance to cut an elegant rug with a pretty male. Or whatever. She took Paul’s hand. “I’m leading.”

Saturday, July 21, 2012

Love, Faith, Hope-The Greatest of These

Tomas looked up from the sermon he laid upon the pulpit.  He smoothed out the crinkles in the pages again.  He splayed his hand over the words making up the title.  His throat constricted as two more filed in and made their way up the aisle until they found seats in the hard wooden pews filling the converted church.  

Tavia’s weak smile warmed his heart.  Two pews back Mickey and Night Hawk sat keeping the children occupied.  Tongson’s brief nod as Tomas’s eyes met his communicated more than Tomas could ever say aloud.  Human and shifter alike dab their eyes.  Many took the packets of tissue offered as they entered the sanctuary.  

Tomas cleared his throat catching the attention of the packed room.  He nodded to the gray haired woman sitting at the battered piano.  She played the opening chords of Amazing Grace.  A quartet of men and women rose on the left side of room.  Their voices blended as each sang a line of lyrics before all four sang in unison.    Another familiar song filled the room as two shifters sang a ballad about illicit love and broken hearts.  As they sat, Tomas spoke.

“Friends, neighbors, and loved ones, today’s tragedy brings home once again why we must unite as a community.  One person took too many lives, hurt innocent beings, and lost touch with himself.  Others seek to harm and hurt anyone who is different.  Some shrink away in fear.  Some use words and actions to justify the malice they do.”

Tomas paused.  Several heads nodded and whispered echoed off the walls.  Licking his lips, he continued.

“Our fellow shifters in Talbot’s Peak face life and death daily from human and shifters.  Humans face the same from humans and shifters as well.  They’ve chosen to unite and live.  To embrace their differences and work together to create a haven and home for those that want to live in peace, love, and a faith in their fellow citizens’ innate goodness and sincerity.”

More nods and soft yeses resounded.  Tomas scanned the crowded room.  Two large men stood near the exit doors.  Their arms hung at their sides.    Moments earlier, they were tight against their chests.  Tomas inhaled deeply.  His eyes meet Mickey’s.  She mouthed I love you, raised her and Night Hawk’s joined hands, and blew a kiss toward Tomas.

Tongson sat with his arm around Tavia.  His wide smile and wink erased any lingering angst Tomas felt.  Tavia’s head bob gave him the fuel he needed to go on.

“There are many quotes on faith, peace, and love.  Many of us here are pagan, a natural religion.  Others are of varying faiths.  For me, I have three that guide me daily.  I’d like to share these with you.  First comes from the Christian Bible:  Three things will last forever--faith, hope, and love--and the greatest of these is love.  The next quote I stumbled upon surfing the internet looking for inspiration for tonight’s topic.  I found one that hit home by a person named Adlin Sinclair a British executive and humanitarian.  He said, and I quote, Without faith, hope and trust, there is no promise for the future, and without a promising future, life has no direction, no meaning and no justification.’  The last is from Lao Tzu, the ancient Chinese philosopher: Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength, while loving someone deeply gives you courage.

Tomas looked up from the paper in front of him.  He felt all eyes watched him intently.  It was though the community breathed as one spirit, one entity, with them waiting for his next utterance.  Tomas swallowed hard and followed where his heart led him.

“I sense a deep love and caring within us.  Those in Colorado are hurting.  We’ll do what we can for them through our connections with Talbot’s Peak.  I know I want to tell each of you I love you and your love gives me the courage to go on despite this awful tragedy.  Our faith in each other unites us and brings us together to work in peace and harmony for the greater good of all.   Over the next days, weeks, and months as those touched by this begin to heal or let out their grief and hurt, let’s remember we’re in this together.  No one stands alone.”

Tomas gathered up his papers.  He stepped down from the pulpit.  One person stood, clapping.  Another joined and another.  Smiles, greeted him as he made his way down the aisle.  When he reached the door, the largest of the guards leaned down.  “The donation area is packed with boxes and items offered by everyone in attendance.  The cash jar is stuffed to the brim.  We found another and it is overflowing as well.”

Tomas clenched the paper in his hands.  A tear threatened to streak down his check.  A soft hand wiped it away.  He turned.  Tavia and Tongson stood next to him offering their hands.  He moved toward them knowing he’d come home to where he belonged and acceptance was the norm, not the abnormal.


Hi Gang,

My heart goes out to the people of Aurora, CO.  Having gone through the last Los Angeles Riots,  I can relate to the feelings everyone is going through.   My post this week is my attempt to make sense of the world around me and the horror that sometimes fills our lives.  Hug your loved ones, friends, and extended family by blood or choice.  Tell them you love them and how much they mean to you.  It's important.  Take time to enjoy each other and have hope that a brighter tomorrow is out there for all of us.


Friday, July 20, 2012

Genre Bending

(Just now got to McDonald's and discovered there's no Friday post. No prob, Serena, happy to fill in. I hope your furry baby's okay!)

Here it is, my new cover to my latest release, Temptation and Tights! Back in January I made a bunch of resolutions; one of them was to double my backlist and have 10 stories available by the end of the year. Most of the resolutions fizzled by the end of January, but this one’s working. This is my second release this year, plus I subbed a fantasy story to another publisher yesterday. We’ll see if anything comes of that. Meanwhile, I’ve got another M/M simmering, and I’m fiddling around with a paranormal YA, of all things. Three more acceptances to go!

Okay, back to the topic at hand. Temptation and Tights is the story of a supervillain who falls in love with the superhero pursuing him. It’s not that far-fetched a plot for the genre. Stan Lee introduced romance tropes and soap opera plots to cape-and-cowl books in the 1960s and revolutionized the industry. Rewrite the Superman saga from Lois’s perspective and bang, you’ve got a romance. Heroes and villains in love? I give you Batman and Catwoman. She tries so hard to reform, but c’mon. She is who she is and she knows who she is, and she’s not going to change, not even for him. Half the fun is getting the Bat to chase her, and she knows it. Half the fun for us is watching the pursuit.

Sitting next to me right now is a copy of Night Shadow by Nora Roberts, published in 1991. It’s the story of a man who develops superpowers in a lab accident, dresses in black and fights crime. The feisty by-the-book DA trying to bring this vigilante in falls in love with him instead. It’s a superhero story in prose, proof it can be done. There hasn’t exactly been a slew of these things, though, not like with vampires and shapeshifters. Yeah, well. I had fun writing it, and that’s the important thing.

The hardest part of writing the book? Coming up with character names that haven’t already been copyrighted. I wanted to call my bad guy “Captain Chaos” but they used that name on South Park. I changed “Icarus” to “Icarius” just to be on the safe side. There are dozens of winged heroes out there already (Hawkman and Angel come to mind right off the bat), so on the powers end I might get a pass. Like plots, there are only so many powers out there. It’s what you do with them that makes them stand out.

In spite of the financial success of The Avengers, and the expected success of The Dark Knight Rises, I don’t expect superhero romances to become the Next Big Thing. If you want to write one, M/F or M/M, go right ahead. Give at least one of your characters powers beyond those of mortal beings, then give them problems to match. Then send them out on a date with the one person in the world who leaves them tongue-tied. Or who wants them arrested. Or dead. Then sit back and watch the fun.

Okay, enough of the capes. I think I’ll go back to the story about the fashion designer. That should be fun. I have no fashion sense and don’t know how to sew. Project Runway, help me out!

Wednesday, July 18, 2012

Fat Bastard On A Roll

Sorry this is so late. It's one part I forgot and one part dithering on what to post. This week's snipet is kind of short, but I finally decided you guys needed it so the next few bit make sense. And it didn't make sense to add something else to it to make the post longer. Next week's will be better, I promise.

FYI, last week's Face Book contest had no winner as no one but me posted a caption. Maybe next time. Anyway, here's a peek into the mind of our friendly neighborhood villain!


“Talk to me,” Hamilton, aka ‘the fat Aussie bastard’, grunted into his phone. He said nothing as his underling rattled on about that a bust that went down early this morning. The goddamned Tom Hanson, doggy cop extraordinaire, had been at it again. That made him feel just a tad better about the scene that had unfolded in front of him at the park.

Yeah, Hanson had messed up his first attempt to contact that dingo bitch, but that didn’t mean he’d meant to. Stalking him just to fuck with him after making a bust like this morning’s was just what Hamilton would expect from that holier-than-thou deputy sheriff. Hanson just happening upon the dingo bitch in the park a few hours later might have been suspicious as hell, too, if it weren’t for the fact she was in heat. While there weren’t many shifters who could get in a dingo’s pants, a cop dog like Hanson could. And he’d probably caught her heat musk down town and followed it once he got off work trying to find the bitch-in-heat.

Hamilton cackled gleefully as he hung up the call and switched over to the camera roll on his phone. With the pictures he’d just snapped of doggy cop extraordinaire making out with his drug mule, he might be able to get two dogs with one stone. He’s make sure there was video evidence of the dingo bitch making a drug transfer to someone expendable, then expose her—along with photos of Hanson doing her. Damn, but it was good to be an evil genius!

Tuesday, July 17, 2012

Wolf Dawg, Bankster Bounty Hunter

Tuesday howls and yowls, shapeshifter lovers.

With the high temps once again taking over my tame prairie this week, I couldn't resist another flash scene set inside the Heavenly Chocolate & Ice Creamery, the new ice cream parlor in Talbot's Peak, Montana.

Alas, the scene refused to end, so I plan to continue it next week.

Wolf Dawg, Bankster Bounty Hunter

On a mission, two missions in fact, Dawg sauntered inside The Peak's new ice cream parlor. The heels of his biker boots rang as he strode over the real tile floor, and the silver chains jangled similar to spurs. Yep, music to his renegade wolf ears. Not that he wore them when on the hunt in his human form.

Bravado worked with some of his white-collar criminal prey. But stealth was often the name of the capture-game.

In this day of cross, double cross, and triple cross, among the different factions of the bankster gangsters, so far Dawg had managed to deliver the corporate scat with the highest bounties on their well-groomed heads to the mysterious group known as the White Hats. With his rewards paid in gold and silver coin, he'd built a fancy Old West Saloon inside one wing of Dante's Interspecies Pleasure Club.

Dawg added more swagger to his walk, and gave the owner, Kalindi, a wink when she glanced up from making a banana split. Howls and dang, was he ever glad she had customers, most of them the local teenagers.

"Got the goods ready to go, pretty angel?"

"Ready, and waiting, my pickup man," she sang. With an angelic but impish smile, Kalindi beckoned him behind the counter.

Dawg had learned long ago to keep his big paws off another man's woman, but he could never resist charming any female. Their sweetness was just too dang impossible for him and his nose to ignore.

Course, now his nostrils quivered with the scent of her god lover. Scuttlebutt had it Kalindi, who was half goddess, had summoned a rain god. As she'd told Kitty, she'd been concerned about Talbot's Peak, and everyone knew about her good-at-heart nature.

Howls to the Great Wolf Spirit, no doubt, they'd sure needed the rains. Gypsy Red Wolf had been holding rain dances every single day at her favorite forest clearing. Along with a huge ole pack of men, Dawg had licked his chops in enjoyment, watching the uninhibited cavorting of the women. Then he'd joined in.

"Is it you I get to thank for the soakin' in rains we've had lately?" Dawg flashed a smile as he rounded the corner of the counter.

Kalindi flushed red as the cherries in the bowl beside her. She gave him a quick glance, then went back to finishing off the banana split with whipped cream. "I'm just glad the drought is over. Can I fix you something, pickup man?"

"Sure can, sweet angel. Once I get the goods loaded, I'll be ready for one of your hot fudge sundaes."

"Got one with your name on it. Right over here." Kalindi waved toward the freezer section where four sealed, five-gallon buckets of the best ice cream ever, waited to be transported.

Dawg already planned to meet with a whistleblower on the run. His White Hat contact insisted on the ice cream parlor, despite Dawg's objection for the sake of any innocents who might inadvertently get in the way.

He'd been on the verge of leaving his Old West Saloon for Talbot's Peak, when the word had gone out that Dante needed a volunteer for a quick run to the Heavenly Chocolate & Ice Creamery. Now here he was loading the buckets into one of the Club's freezer trucks.

Even with the last minute arrangements, Dawg made certain to arrive extra early. With the ice cream secured, he swung toward the parlor's entrance. His strides rapidly ate up the short distance, and as he held the door open for a family of four, his inner wolf ruff stood on end.

The whistleblower, a woman, was here. Once he entered, Dawg causally moved toward the counter. Acting as if a hot fudge sundae was the only thing on his mind, he propped up a boot, and leaned on his elbow.

Desperation had its own odor. A cat shapeshifter also possessed a unique fragrance, the one now seriously tingling the inside of his nose. The White Hat hadn't divulged that little tidbit of info. Could be, he hadn't known the whistleblower was a shifter. Then again...

From the corner of his eye, Dawg easily spotted the woman. He nearly barked a laugh at her prim uptight appearance, complete with a bun and horn rim glasses. She wore 'I'm vacationing' attire, and devoured a banana split like no other woman he'd ever witnessed.

Fascinated, Dawg angled his body so he could watch her, while still having a direct view of the door. One of those huge flowery tourist bags that could hold everything under the sun leaned against her chair.

"It's her second one," Kalindi whispered close to his ear as she placed his hot fudge sundae on the counter.

"When you get time, make her another banana split on me. Would you, angel girl?"

"You got it, wolf man. Do you want me to serve it to her or do you want to do the honors?"

"Take your time, Kalindi. Bring it to the table whenever you're ready." Dawg picked up his hot fudge sundae. "Time to make my move."

The woman cat shifter, who savored the last bite of whipped cream, then licked her lips feline-style, sat near the back at the table farthest from anyone else. With the gaze of a huntress she eyed his slow approach.

While not petite, she was in no way large, and possessed a daintiness that appealed to Dawg. What he could see of her shapely curves, despite the shapeless clothing she wore, put his cock on alert status.

Howls, given her state of desperation, the last thing she needed was a male befuddled and ruled by lust. Dawg halted, and offered a friendly grin. "Pardon me, miss, you remind me of my cousin, Louisa. She's down Texas way. Lives in Houston."

Tentatively, she offered a small smile, one that froze soon after it formed. Yet, Dawg observed her recognition of the code words he'd used. All while he stared at the unique but beautiful color of her eyes, a champagne gold.

Her features told him the rest of the story, one that threw him for a loop well past the moon. She was Martian. That is, either from Mars, or her ancestors had been Martian. Memories tumbled over themselves in a race that caused him to blink and become rigid for an instant.

Dawg suppressed the total recall of long ago.

"My name is Silkari. I'm afraid I don't know your cousin. If you'd like to join me..." She left the rest unsaid.

Dawg didn't wait for an engraved invitation. He seated himself, and set the drippy hot fudge sundae on the table.

"Are you going to rescue me?" she mouthed.

Gathering his wits, no easy task, Dawg raised a brow. "What am I rescuing you from? Don't worry," he added, "no spy devices are allowed in here. Or in Talbot's Peak."

Skepticism shone in her eyes. Still, she took in a large breath, and released it. He watched her shoulders un-tense.

"Silkari, what a beautiful name." Dawg spoke as she prepared to answer him.

"I...I...my sister was abducted by a white slavery ring. We found her in time, but...well, I decided to get the dirt on the corporation responsible. Because no one believed us -- that it was one of the top corporations...and..." Tears shimmered in her eyes, and Silkari lowered her gaze.

"I understand. Did they know she was a shapeshifter?"

"No, not at first. When they found out, they were going to sell her to an underground lab...oh, god, it was horrible." Silkari still didn't look at him. "Long story short, I posed as a secretary, assistant, whatever, long enough to get all this." She motioned to her bag. "I'd trained as an actress, and thought...but they found out. I'd already gotten most of the dirt, the proof, and more. So, so," she choked a bit, "I ran."

Dawg picked up his spoon, and took a large bite of his sundae -- as if they were two people getting to know each other. Two bad guys had entered. Both of them bounty hunters he knew, and they didn't own hearts of gold. Money was their god.


Wishing you shapeshifting love on the wild side...


Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance ~