Friday, August 31, 2012

Friday Five Challenge

Well, here it is Friday and me without a blog.  Not really a surprise if you consider the craziness my life has become of late.  Moving out of our old place, a temporary stay with family until our new place is ready and now back to school nutsiness.

I am exhausted.

So I'm falling back on an old favorite, the Friday Five, but I'm adding a challenge to it...much like the Mistress in today's picture.  What must my lovely Penelope be asking of her submissive?


Oops, must stay on track. Time enough later for my muse to play with this picture.

Anyway, the Friday Five...Fabulous words found on  And the challenge?  For our readers, if you'd like, pick your favorite word and tell us what Talbot's Peak character you can see using it.  We then shall include it in an upcoming post from that character.

Now, as a challenge for my fellow bloggers (don't worry it's easy) pick one of the words and use it in your next weeks post.  In addition, feel free to let me know which word you would like me to include in my post.  Sound like fun?  :D

Here we go...The words

1.  Gull \guhl\, verb:
1. To deceive, trick, or cheat.
1. A person who is easily deceived or cheated; dupe.

 2.  Crucible \KROO-suh-buhl\, noun:
1. A severe, searching test or trial.
2. A container of metal or refractory material employed for heating substances to high temperatures.
3. Metallurgy. A hollow area at the bottom of a furnace in which the metal collects.

3.  Compère \KOM-pair\, noun:
1. A host, master of ceremonies, or the like, especially of a stage revue or television program.
1. To act as compère for: to compère the new game show.

4.  Fabulist \FAB-yuh-list\, noun:
1. A liar.
2. A person who invents or relates fables.

5.  Velleity \vuh-LEE-i-tee\, noun:
1. Volition in its weakest form.
2. A mere wish, unaccompanied by an effort to obtain it.

Happy Friday everyone!


Wednesday, August 29, 2012

Mixed Bag of Flash

Lots of little flashes today. This is a week's worth of ultra shorts inspired by random pictures found on the inter-webs. Enjoy!

~ Rebecca


“Good morning class!”

Jenny looked up at her new engineering professor and groaned. Great, an old guy with lots of pep! at 7:30 in the morning was so not what she wanted to face. To be honest, she wasn’t sure if a young hot teacher with that much enthusiasm at this ungodly hour would have been any better. Fall was coming early this year and she was having a hard time convincing her ursine brain that school was something she needed to care about. To be honest, no part of her really wanted to be here but she was determined to make the honor roll, not just skim by like she had in high school. This was her first day of college. No way was she going to miss it just because global warming had her thinking fondly of her hibernation den.

“Who’s ready to tackle some theoretic engineering this morning! Can I get a hell yes?”

Jenny’s next groan was joined by several dozen other groans as the whole class realized what they were in for; a year with an old guy who was trying to be “down with the young people.” Oh goody!


T'was that time of year again
Where kids were dragged to school again
And parents resumed their lives again
And teachers begin to drink again
And school portaits were taken again
... and again
... and again
Because the photographer
Could not convince them just to smile
Like normal people...



“Dude, I can’t believe I got an “F” on my first paper of the year.”

Jenny looked surreptitiously over at the person who was speaking, not sure if that guy was speaking to her specifically or to the world in general. He was speaking to her, of course. She shrugged.

“It was supposed to have been a literary self-portrait of how we view ourselves, not a LOL cat picture, dude,” she said, trying to contain her natural sarcasm.

“It was a literal self-portrait,” the guy said. “That’s actually me in that picture. My parents snapped it when I was little.”

Jenny looked at him. She looked back at the picture. Then back at him. She sniffed once, to confirm with her nose that he was even a cat. Yep, domestic feline shifter, it told her. But her eyes were still disbelieving. The cat in the picture was a cute, fluffy white Persian kitten. The guy in front of her was 100% white bread American. 

He wasn’t hansom, not by traditional standards, anyway, but he was compellingly attractive. He had a sort of pug-like face, which kind of went with the typical smooshy face of a Pursian cat. He had a California tan and medium brown hair that also showed he spent a lot of time in the sun. He kept it a tad long and brushed into an emo style. His gray eyes were heavily lined with kohl and sparkled his intelligence and orneriness. He had hoop earrings in both of his ears. She wasn’t sure what to make of him, but she had a feeling that Freshman comp with him was going to be a unique experience. For her and also for the teacher…

~ the following picture inspired the surfer kitty in that last bit of flash. And before you ask, yes, i has a crush on this actor and have had since I saw him in a P!nk video. I admit it freely. ;)

Last but not least, the P!nk video that made me decide that Jeremy Renner was the hottest thing out there. He's the bad boy sherrif, by the way. 

Tuesday, August 28, 2012

My beautiful Immortal Hunter

Tuesday howls and yowls, shapeshifter lovers.

Quoted from my blog, Kougar Kisses, here's an update on my writing.

"Last night the Kougar discovered her word count is at about 85,000 words for her WIP ~ Her Midnight Stardust Cowboys ~ this was kind of a shock. Okay, right now, there are appr. four more chapters planned.

Yes, the darling MUSE has done it again, tricking the Kougar into writing a much larger and more complicated *Talbot's Peak ~ ShapeShifter Seductions ER* story than she planned. And, yes, there are lots more 'erotic menage romance' scenes.

Thus, all of her other writing projects had been significantly delayed. ~sighs!~

However, one good thing... at this point, the Kougar can't complain about the overall quality of her WIP, and she hopes bigtime, she can sustain it for the last chapters. ~claws crossed~"


And now, for this week's flash scene, obviously inspired by "The Highlander" and Adrian Paul. However, it's not a fanfic piece.

My beautiful Immortal Hunter

Steziah leisurely quaffed her Triple Moon ale. Resting on one elbow, she cast her glance around the crossroads tavern, a relatively high class establishment catering to travelers of every ilk, even the superior warriors of Arrysim called the Ruffians.

Given she was a half breed Ruffian, the leader of the clan raised his stein in a covert salute. After momentarily piercing her with his gaze, he turned toward his warrior pack.

There would be no challenge. Steziah had long ago 'proven her blade', the term for proving her worth as a fearless and to-be-feared fighter.

Simply because she relished it, Steziah continued observing the various breeds of humanoids filling the tavern. The wide variance in appearance always pleased her eye.

In the middle of swallowing, the telltale tone burst inside her ear canal. Steziah dropped her stein, feeling the splash of droplets on her hand as she whirled from her seat on the tall stool.

She dashed madly toward the exit, still a good distance away. What an unexpected turn of events.

But, that was the way of the universe.

With one hand on the hilt of her blade, Steziah leaped over booted legs and hopped over weaponry, from enormous broad blades to slim rapiers. Able to dodge those who unknowingly stepped into her path, she wove between the closely packed tables.

Smack! She bounced off the shield-like chest of a Sasquatch constable who had just entered the tavern. With her nose still intact, Steziah stumbled backward. Before she could gain her feet, the back of her legs crashed into a table.

One of the occupants gave her a helpful shove on the back, only she tripped over the Sasquatch's giant foot -- he'd moved to give her a hand. Steziah landed splat on her stomach, draped over another table.

After a bare instant of gathering her wits, she rolled off the table, hit the floor, and sprinted the short distance to the heavy, wood plank door. Steziah couldn't afford to lose her target now, not with one of his dimensional windows nearby.

The last she'd glimpsed the Troxius Immortal, earlier in the evening, he'd been ensconced in a leather reading chair at the Great Library. His legs had been propped up, and the hearth fire roared pleasantly. In times past that meant he'd settled in for the night, and intended to do some serious studying of the galactic history tome he held.

Steziah gave a quick grateful nod to the smallish, brown-green lizard man who swung the tavern door open for her. The icy winds buffeted her, but with her blood running high, Steziah felt nothing.

She charged for the grayish oblong shape hovering a few feet above the ground, that most would not be able to see. Already the portal faded, her clue Zhamyr had just walked through.

The tone she'd heard had been the window's activation. With no time to psi-sense what type of world she was about to fling herself into, Steziah ran, launching through the closing portal.

With her momentum, she felt as if she flew inside the inter-dimensional void. There was no sound. No sensation of any kind. Darkness with no knowledge of darkness wrapped her, and time vanished.

As Steziah broke through the membranous barrier, glistening illumination surrounded her, and music greeted her ears. The strange, flowing notes held the enchanted and soaring feel of romance.

Yet, she'd certainly never heard its like before on any other world, and Steziah had experienced dozens of realms following Zhamyr on his extensive dimensional travels.

Before Steziah could settle her feet on solid ground, and get her bearings. Before she could ready her blade, strong arms embraced her.

"Care to dance, Stezi?"

"I'm your designated Watcher, not your dance partner. Release me."

"Ah, yes, the proper title now. Watcher not Hunter. My Stezi, there is no one here who will take you to task if you dance in my arms."

"I'm hardly dressed for the occasion. You will release me now."

"It will appear odd if I simply abandon you here in the middle of the dance floor, beautiful Stezi."

"My warrior's attire already makes me appear odd."

Despite herself, Steziah's feet moved with the music as Zhamyr masterfully guided her among the many other couples in what appeared to be this world's version of an elegant dance club.

"Easily taken care of, Stezi. I have selected a gown for you."

"How indecently thoughtful of you."

"Yes, 'indecent' covers my thoughts about you, I will gladly admit. For quite some time now."

Zhamyr's very indecently rasped words were so close to her ear, Steziah felt the heated tease of his breath.

"I can't dance in these boots," she complained, even as her heartbeat elevated, and her breathing threatened to become pants of desire.

How did one refuse the attention of a Troxius Immortal? To her knowledge, it had never been done.

Steziah had been chosen for this assignment because of her warrioress skills, and because it had been believed Zhamyr would have no interest in bedding her.

Wrong! His hands languidly swept over her back, a seduction despite the thick protective leather of her tight-fitting jacket.

"Shall I unlace your boots for you? Place dancing slippers upon your exquisite feet?"

"Where... where are we?" she managed, instead of sighing 'yes, please, yes'.

Pausing in his gliding steps, Zhamyr caressed his fingertips up the back of her neck until he held her head within his large palm. His gaze commanded, devoured, promised, and Steziah yielded to her passions, trembling inside.

"My beautiful Immortal Hunter, we are on a planet called Earth, in an area named Talbot's Peak. More importantly, we are safe from enemies and prying eyes." He stroked his hand from her head, then sensually brushed his thumb along the line of her jaw. "This is the Midnight Stardust Supperclub."


Wishing you shapeshifting love on the wild side…


Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance ~


Monday, August 27, 2012

Anuli and Scott (Almost) Make a Porno

Mr. Ed fussed over the tiny studio’s even tinier bedroom set until he had everything just so. Except the lighting. “Charlie! We need more light over here.”

Charlie Boma wrestled an arc light into position. “Now we’ll have to set the microphone by the headboard.”

“As long as we can hear the dialogue. We can add the grunts and groans in post.”

“What grunts and groans?” Charlie’s niece, Anuli, froze in the doorway, her pretty face taking on a look of alarm. “You told me no sex,” she accused her uncle.

“Not for this shoot, no,” Ed assured her. “This is just the screen test. Like a first date. The camera needs to get to know you.”

“Ed needs the practice,” Charlie translated. “He ain’t used to making films with women in ‘em.”

“I’m known for a specific product,” Ed shot back, a bit huffily. “I’ll admit my wallet and I could both benefit if I were to expand my horizons. You’re over 21, right?”

“I’m 23,” Anuli said. “Am I supposed to sign something?”

“Let’s see how the screen test goes. Hey, Scott! You ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.” A tall, shirtless young man in jeans with an enormous buckle ambled onto the set. His thick, inky mane tumbled out from under an ill-fitting cowboy hat. He spotted Anuli and stopped dead. “I’m filming with a woman?”

“That a problem?”

“No, I’m just a little surprised, is all.” Though not at all upset, if that slow, easy glide of his tongue over his lower lip were any indication. Anuli had also gone on full alert. Ed could almost see her ears prick up, and wondered idly just how long before that off-the-shoulder dress of hers went off the shoulder and onto the floor. Maybe he had been missing something in only filming guy-on-guy movies.


“Make yourselves comfortable,” Ed said with a curt wave at the bed. “Get to know each other. Talk about the weather or something. Hmm. Y’know what this needs? That old quilt from the barn set. Help me lug it in, will you, Charlie?”

“I look like a stage hand to you?”

“Right now, yes. It’s just us here. Everybody pitches in.” The two older men left the bedroom set, squabbling like an old married couple. If Montana ever gets around to changing the laws, who knows? Ed thought.

It took them a while to find the quilt in Ed’s collection of antique trunks and dig it out. “Hope the foals ain’t getting bored,” Charlie said.

“I doubt if they’re bored. I should have left a camera running.”

They weren’t bored. They were gone. Ed and Charlie returned with the quilt to an empty set. “Told you so,” Charlie said.

# # #

Laughing, hand in hand, Scott and Anuli fled the barn that served as Ed’s film studio and raced for the freedom of the farmyard and the open pasture beyond. Ed’s small herd of goats watched their escape with only a hint of interest. Nothing that went on at Ed’s farm bothered them much. The two didn’t slow until the farmhouse was well out of sight. Anuli paused to catch her breath, still laughing. “Thanks. When Uncle Charlie said he could get me an acting job, he forgot to mention it was gay porn.”

“Ah, Ed don’t make the grungy kind. His films got story arcs and character development and that.”

“So you’ve made quite a few of them, have you?”

Scott turned a delightfully adorable shade of pink. “So far I only been set dressing.” He flexed his pecs for Anuli’s edification. “The guys what star in ‘em are older. Been around a bit. So you’re an actress?”

“Wannabe. I was on my way to California when I stopped in to visit Uncle Charlie.” She looked around at the broad meadow and its tall, sweet-smelling grass. She looked longer at the handsome stud on display before her. “I may stay longer than I planned. I think I like Montana.”

“That’d be great. I mean, glad to have you.” He sputtered and got even pinker. “Long as we’re out here, care to grab a bite of lunch?”

“Sounds wonderful.” With an abandon she never would have shown before a camera, Anuli shed her dress and shifted. The zebra tossed her spiky mane and tugged a mouthful of grass. Delicious! No wonder Uncle Charlie had chosen to settle here.

As for her erstwhile co-star—

She snorted in surprise. Her nose had told her the hunky young man was equine, but not the breed. Now she saw he was a mustang, as long-legged and broad-chested as his human form. His coat was a pinto patchwork of white set off with ebony splotches. Black and white. Her favorite color combo.

The stallion ambled over and nosed her striped hindquarters, taking his time to examine her ropy, tufted tail. She kicked a playful hoof at him. He dodged easily and pranced around her with a smooth glide of a gate. Anuli was liking Montana better and better by the second.

In moments they were running again, lunch and movies forgotten as they stretched their legs, striped and splotched, in a full gallop over the meadow.

# # #

Charlie held out his hand to Ed, palm up. “Pay up, hoss. Tole you that colt was straight.”

“You pay up,” Ed said. “I’m the one bet you they’d hit it off.”

“Hell, that wasn’t no bet. That Scotty’d turn any filly’s head without half trying. Now pay up. I’m gonna need that money for doctor bills. When Anuli finds out we set her up she’ll rip the stripes right off me.” He tossed his head. “Gotta make sure I keep these chiseled good looks.”

“Guess we won’t be filming today,” Ed said. He slanted a sly look at Charlie. “Pity to let the set just sit there, now that we brought in the quilt.”

“You randy stallion.” Charlie chuckled. “First you turn that camera off. I don’t work for free.”

Ed shut off the camera and pointed the lens at the floor. Then he lunged at Charlie. “And—action!”

Saturday, August 25, 2012

Welcome to Agua Caliente

Jackson looked both ways before following Remo into the dark interior of the bar.  A bold lettered yellow-stenciled sign took up two-thirds of the window of the interior door, Remo held open.  It read Agua Caliente.  Jackson understood enough Spanish thanks to his great grandpappy twice removed.  That family story crept up at family dinners when Cousin Felix drank too much tequila.  Jackson shook his head and continued on inside.

Remo rounded the bar, nodding at the blond wiping down the table closest to them.  “Sandy, get a couple of burgers from the kitchen.  Mine well done and yours?”

Jackson swallowed hard.  Remo was politer than most alphas Jackson encountered.  Experience sent chills down his spine warning him to be wary.  Still this wasn’t turf he knew and a much different species than the one he left back on the peak.  

“Uhmm- - -“Jackson perched on the barstool near him.

“Look dude, you look hungry enough to eat a goat raw.  Sandy would appreciate it if you didn’t hunt her down tonight during the full moon.  Besides good help is hard to find.  And eating my business partner will get you in more manure than you need right now.”  Remo finished filling the large beer glass he’d taken from under the bar.  “I don’t know about your home.  Here we treat folks with manners and hospitality". Remo slid the glass across the bar to Jackson.

“Make mine like his.”  Jackson picked up the glass, saluted Remo with it, and drank.  Nothing unusual about the beer.  Draft with a head on it and cold just the way Jackson liked his.  “Thanks.”

Remo watched Sandy give Jackson the once over before she shook her head and walked into the kitchen clucking her tongue.  He turned. Leaning on the bar, he motioned Jackson closer.  “Dude, let me give you the rules.  Then we’ll commence with intros.”

Jackson drank more beer, then nodded.  He knew when to keep his wolf yap shut.  Being a distant second cousin of Talbot’s Peak’s head wrangler held no restrictions.  In fact, more often than not, some punk wanted to pick a fight to whoop ass to show he was wolf enough to fight the current pack alpha.  Jackson stayed away from pack politics.  He didn’t even acknowledge his family bloodlines so trouble couldn’t find him as easily.    Whatever Remo had to say, Jackson would listen to and then decide how to eat his burger and clear out of town without causing a ruckus.

“One,” Remo began.  “When a pack female gets pregnant the pack rejoices.  Two, if we know who the daddy is- - -Hi Daddy.”  Remo pointed at Jackson and waved.

“If we know who daddy is we give him the options.”  Remo’s smile reminded Jackson of the pictures of the old bobcat his great grandma tangled with during her moonshine running days.  That wry smile that didn’t quite reach the eyes and yet told you sit still before shit happened.  Jackson kept nodding and swallowing more beer.

“Slow down on the brewsky son,” Remo advised.  “Need your wits about ya before the food arrives.”

“I hear ya,” Jackson said.  “Please go on.” He pushed the glass away from him.

“Okay, third, you got choices.”  Remo laid a sheet of printed-paper on the bar.

“Choices?”  Jackson reached for the paper.  Remo snatched it away.

“Hear your options out.”

Jackson arched his eyebrows.  “Go on,” he softly growled.  He didn’t like threats.  He smelled one coming.

Remo tossed back his head, laughing, howling, and laughing again.  “Feisty!  Good!  I like variety.  You’ll make a good addition.”

“A good addition?”  Jackson planted his feet on the floor, ready to defend himself.

“Your options are:  flee, fight, stay, or join the pack.  Even a combination thereof is welcomed.”  Remo tossed the paper at Jackson.  “See I’m not a bad s.o.b.  Just an overly protective alpha who wants to live in peace with my neighbors.  Not find pieces of my family, friends, and pack all over the place.”

Jackson glanced down at the paper he trapped against the bar with his hand.  What Remo had summarized read down the sheet.  Two blank lines stood out near the bottom.

“And these are for?”  Jackson gestured at the blank lines.

“Signatures.  Yours and mine.”  Remo laid a pen on the bar.  A sharp point projected from one end.  “Your signature indicates you’ll abide by the rules.  Mine says I accept your choice and decision.”

“And if I don’t?”  Jackson stood up ready to make a break for the door if necessary.

“You’re welcome to stay but. . .”  Remo raised the pen.  “There’s an unattached attractive female carrying your youngin’.  Do you want another male claiming her and the babe?  Or are you wolf enough to do your duty?”

Jackson held out his hand.  Letting go of Abebi would cut out a huge chunk of him.  He didn’t know if he could walk away.  His heart skipped two beats every time he even considered it.  “Give me the pen.”

Remo snickered.  “Ain’t no pen boy.  It’s a prick.  We sign in blood. Our pack lives by our blood oaths regardless of our origins.”

Jackson inhaled deeply.  He held out his finger, gritted his teeth, and waited.  Sharp momentary pain pierced his index finger.  Bright red blood welled up and over the tip, on to the paper.  Remo handed him the pronged pen.  Jackson scribbled his name boldly across the first line.  

“Good choice mate.”  Remo held out his hand.  Jackson pricked the finger closest to him.  Remo grabbed the pen and signed below Jackson.  “Now about that job.”


Happy Weekend Gang!

Before we know it fall will be upon us.  Enjoy the latter days of summer as the season progresses toward its end.  Be safe with all the wild fires, storms, and unusual happenings going on out there.

It seems Jackson has signed on for more than he bargained for.  Who knows what job Remo is talking about.  Let's hope it isn't the singing waiter.  Jackson will be howling more than crooning I bet.

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


Friday, August 24, 2012

A Bit of Advice...

“Pina Colada, please.”  Karma ordered the umbrella drink, sat back in her chair and waited for Dante to come out to see her.  Ever since she’d started helping Erol step into this century the urge to teach others had grabbed her by the throat and not let go.

“Your drink, sexy lady.”

“Thank you, fine sir…”  She really did like the beauty found in this town.  Everywhere she looked shapeshifter perfection graced the landscape and this bartender had it in spades.  He was tall and lanky, a swimmers body if she’d ever seen one, and was awash in swirling beauty she guessed was more than a simple tattoo.

Talbot’s Peak was like watermelon on a hot day—juicy, delectable and it whet your appetite for more.

“Dante should be right out…word is you’ve fixed Erol.”

“Fixed?”  Now that was a laugh.  Erol wasn’t broken and didn’t need fixing, but he was a stubborn cuss who needed to learn the niceties of the twenty-first century.  “Nope, not yet…he’s a work in progress.”

“You think you’ll be able to help him win his lady love?”

“That I can’t say…love is a delicate emotion and cannot be fixed, trained or decided on by anyone other than the owner’s heart—to do so could be quite damaging.”   Karma had learned that lesson the hard way a very long time ago.  “I can, however, give him the tools to show his love in a respectful and positive light.”

 “Could you do that for, say, anyone?”

She sipped her drink, smiling as the delicious coconut and pineapple taste trickled over her taste buds.  The bartender was so earnest in his request and far too young and gorgeous to need her help.  “My help works best with an older crowd.  Shifters who have lived all you know as history.”

“Oh, okay.”

The quick glance down to the waitress at the end of the bar gave him away.  “Let me give you a bit of advice.  The surest way to garner a woman’s interest is through honesty.  Tell her she is beautiful and that it would be an honor to take her out for something she desires…coffee, ice cream or a twirl around the dance floor.  Play no games and she will be impressed.”


“Guaranteed.”  Karma raised her hand in a show of truth and gave him a smile.  “Women can smell out a lie and a player.  We don’t like to be made fools of and we really can see your soul through your eyes.”


Mr. Barman walked away, proving the sight of him leaving was just as lovely as it was coming.  Too bad he was focused on another or she might have engaged him in tutoring of a different kind.

“Soul through the eyes?”

“You doubt me, Dante?”

“Never…have you told Kitty your secrets?”

Karma grinned, sipped more of her drink and gave him a wink.  “Not yet…”

Dante’s relief was palpable and wholly unnecessary.  Kitty knew everything she needed to about the wolf as he did her.  They just had not found the right timing to be together.  “Let’s find you the best room in the place for your class.”  

“Yes, lets.”

May you find an honest lover to fill your nights with everything you desire...


Wednesday, August 22, 2012

Zombie Lobsters And Other Unusual Foods.

Hi and a happy Wednesday to you all. I do not have a flash fiction for you today. I saw this Snookie picture meme on Face Book last night and decided that today needed to be a picture day. Enjoy!