Tuesday, December 31, 2013

COVER REVEAL and... But I need a lady on my arm...

Howl and Yowl New Year's Eve greetings, shapeshifter lovers.

Once upon a time I wrote an entire flash-scene novel, or 200 hundred words each day, as an experimental free read. Sylva and Zeke's love story began on New Year's Eve 2008. Originally, this paranormal erotic romance was titled: Happy Courtship on Another Earth.

Since New Year's Eve was just around the corner, I decided to compile my flash-scene novel, about 160,000 words – give it a read-through, then Indie publish it in flash-scene form. I've changed the title to: His Claimed Bride, Happy New Year On Another Earth.

Thus! That's why this fabulous 'perfect for the story' cover art, designed by our own Serena Shay, is being featured today. Ain't it just too lovely?!

I haven't completed the read-through yet. However, most of the necessary formatting has been completed. So, I'm *hoping* to have HIS CLAIMED BRIDE available soon.


Announcements ~

BLOG HOP ~ Baby, It's Cold Outside on January 3-5th at SHAPESHIFTER SEDUCTIONS.

The ShapeShifter Seductions newsletter will be coming out soon, so sign up for some shapeshiftery fun, and author info.

AND... if you're in the mood for a New Year's Eve themed erotic romance menage, check out the blurb and excerpts for HER MIDNIGHT STARDUST COWBOYS... my first ShapeShifter Seductions novel... on the page above.  


Okay, here's the fifth installment starring Drey, the wolf rancher, and Korinne, who has escaped to the Montana wilds after her ex-husband stole most of her wealth.

But I need a lady on my arm...

Korinne sizzled, her passionate hunger almost overwhelming her. What was it about Drey? Really, was she just that sexually needy? Or...

His outdoorsy manly smell seemed to be filling every inch of her. Saturating the air of the too-small cabin.

And now, the snowstorm had taken on a fierce life of its own, the winds beginning to howl. Hot chocolate, she needed a bracing cup to hold onto, to sip... to hold onto her composure.

But oh yes indeedy, she could imagine Drey as a stuntman now. He had that tough wrangler look, perfect for the old western movies. In the grip of an unexpected fantasy, Korinne started to feel his hard-muscled body against hers... or what she imagined he'd feel like... oh gawd...

Here she was confiding in him about her mostly lucid reindeer dream. Of course, that could be blamed on the intimacy of being thrown together in the cabin -- with nothing else to do.

"A show," she murmured, wanting to stretch, but halting herself. "Riding and roping. Certainly ranching skills," she inanely added, glancing at his rugged features. "Hot chocolate..." Korinne pushed herself to her feet. "I used to add a splash of brandy for Dad... or, would you prefer coffee?"

Korinne paused waiting for his response, her ingrained social skills not to be denied.  And since her wariness of him had faded somewhat... well...

"Hot chocolate will do just fine." Drey seemed to devour her with his gaze. Yet not in a lascivious creepy manner.

Korinne watched him reach for his sheepskin jacket, then dive his hand in the side pocket. He produced a silver flask, obviously of sterling quality.

"Damn good whisky," he rumbled in that deep timbre of his. "I carry for it medicinal purposes when I ride the range."

Deciding to accept him at his word, given there was no smell of alcohol on his breath, Korinne accepted the flask. Their gazes met, collided actually -- by the way her body started inside.

Something Korinne didn't understand flashed between them... a spark of light sizzling through her middle. Sexual awareness of each other, yes... but it went deeper. With no time to analyze the sensation, she moved in dream-like motion, turning toward her wood cookstove.

"Just a splash." Drey spoke in a soft growl. "Want to keep myself sharp, given the blizzard outside."

"Smart move," Korinne tossed over her shoulder. Really, what the stupid hell was she supposed to do with a stranded rancher stuntman, who likely knew how to seduce a woman like a rodeo pro? Rodeo pro, what a ridiculous analogy. Then again, she'd never been what were euphemistically called 'buckle bunnies'.

Good lord, someone help her, her thoughts had become muddled, on the edge of incoherent. Maybe, it was all the cowboy testosterone taking over the cabin's interior.

"I think I'll add a splash as well." Korinne placed her tea kettle on the already heated surface, then grabbed the always-filled cannister. She made up her own chocolate mixture so all she had to do was scoop it out into a mug, then pour on the hot water.

"You're not the type to take advantage of a woman, are you?" Oh no! The words spilled out of their own volition. Still, she did want to know, just in case the manly-man rancher was a danger to her -- not that he'd tell her if he did take advantage of a drunk woman.

The thick silence had Korinne turning her gaze toward Drey as she waited for the water to heat. He averted his gaze, tending to the fire, but not before she witnessed the banked flames in his eyes.

Okay, no question about it. Despite her unattractive, almost slovenly appearance, Drey found her desirable. Why?

Korinne owned not a clue. In her world she'd be rejected without a second glance. After all, a women knew how to dress seductively to gain the attentions of any man she wanted.

"Nope, Korinne," he answered without looking at her. "Drunk ain't attractive to me."

The undercurrent beneath his words could have been the raging Mississippi river.  Did she dare pursue that, or leave it alone?

On automatic, her thoughts spinning, Korinne poured out the close-to-boiling water, and stirred. She added some cold water, then opened the flask, and tipped in small amounts.

Best to leave it alone, she decided, picking up the two mugs.

"You plannin' on celebratin' this New Year's Eve?" Drey asked, as she approached.

A sharp intake of breath cut through her, and Korinne halted. "I'm not planning on getting drunk," her wayward tongue announced.

Drey's slow easy smile had her moving toward him again. "Ever hear of the Midnight Stardust Supperclub?" he asked, taking hold of the mug she handed to him.

Their eyes flashed into each other, their fingers brushed, and Korinne swore fireworks exploded inside her. So not a good sign, if she wanted to stay sane and unattached. 

"Supperclub?" she managed, then took a healthy sip of her hot chocolate before lowering herself to the rocker. "No. I'm afraid I don't know that much about all the establishments in town. Too busy."

"The Midnight Stardust isn't in Talbot's Peak proper. Dante, the owner, built a large underground complex in the forest..."

"The Pleasure Club," Korinne interrupted, her insides wild and silken at the same time. "I only know it by reputation. And what a reputation!"

"Yep. Dante puts on one helluva of a grand, elegant celebration at his supperclub on New Year's Eve. The works. Dancin', dinner, a swing band... laser light show. Folks are dressed to the nines." Drey paused, and took a long swallow of his hot chocolate.

His gaze steadied on her, unnerving to say the least. "Been hankerin' to go myself," he drawled. "But I need a lady on my arm."  


Have a Magickal New Year...   


Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance

Monday, December 30, 2013

End of an Era

“Great Caesar’s goat!” Nick roared. Which, according to legend, Caesar had eaten grilled with a side order of fries. Nick vowed whatever was making that ear-splitting caterwaul would suffer the same fate.

He burst out of his office and into a scene straight out of a horror movie. Ralph Bruin, movie reviewer and writer of op-ed opinion pieces, was throttling the life out of a plaid canvas bag with pipes stuck in it. The bag shrieked a death knell that could probably be heard all the way to Missoula. Apparently his staff was celebrating the object’s demise, because they were gathered (not all that closely, he noted) around a desk with a sheet cake on it. Black balloons had been tethered to the chairs.

I’m not going to ask, he told himself, then said, “What the hell?”

“It’s a wake.” Oh dear Lupa. That thing with his face nearly hidden by his shirt’s black ruffles was Lamar. Behind him, Jamie looked at Nick apologetically. Ever since he and Lamar had hooked up, Jamie seemed to wear that expression constantly. “We’re celebrating the demise of 2013.” The snake wiped a tear from his eye. “I’m going to miss it.”

“Is that a bagpipes?”

“Yeah.” Ralph paused in his assault on all decent music everywhere. The bagpipes wheezed like an asthmatic. “There’s this Scotty bar out in the woods. I been taking lessons.”

Nick wondered how Lamar would taste grilled with a side of fries. He’d heard somewhere that snakes tasted like chicken. “Let me guess. ‘Amazing Grace.’”

“You kiddin’ me?” Ralph said. “I was doing U2. I wrapped up ‘Grace’ about ten minutes back. You people don’t know what good music is.”

Yes, we do, Nick thought, and that wasn’t it. “You’re supposed to clear any office parties with me first. Do you even still work here? I thought you quit to write porn.”

“M/M erotica,” Lamar corrected. “And this isn’t a party. I told you, it’s a wake. The old year’s coming to an end.”

“Good friggin’ riddance, you ask me.”

Lamar gaped at him. “Are you loco? Look at all that happened. The world didn’t end in 2012, for starters. It’s hard to beat that. Then we had the classic car cruise, and the fair, and that month where a bunch of people turned into My Pretty Ponies—”

“Which obviously it skipped you, though I can’t imagine how. That was not a fun time.”

“I’ll say,” Teddy called over from accounting. “I still whinny when I sneeze.”

“But everybody looked so pretty, with the manes and tails and all. Better than your usual grouchy—” Lamar watched Nick’s face get redder and redder and for once took the hint. “Okay, so we almost got wiped out by the psycho snake god—”

“Psycho snake god?” Jamie said.

“That’s right, you mammals wouldn’t remember him. No problemo. His wife got herself preggers and dragged him off to the serpent dimension, so todo es perfecto. And speaking of little wrigglers, I hear congratulations are in order.” He waggled his brows at Nick.

Nick went still all over. “What did you hear, and from who?”

“False alarm?” Lamar glanced at Jamie. “According to El Rojo here—”

“Hey, don’t go dragging me into this.”

Sharp horns and missed kills, Nick thought in a panic. Jamie. Because Jamie didn’t chase after the shes, Nick sometimes forgot he was still a wolf, with a wolf’s nose. He could read the changes in Ziva’s body like Ralph read the sports page. Thank Lupa she wasn’t in today. “Yeah. False alarm. Bad rumor. If anything winds up in the gossip column, I swear I will hire you just so I can fire you all over again. Got it? Oh scat. Tell me you’re not crying.”

“I can’t help it,” Lamar blubbered. “I hate it when the old year ends. It’s like shedding skin. You know why snakes shed their skin? Because they’ve gotten fat!” He burst into tears.

Nick gaped at Lamar, whose body was roughly the width of a No. 2 pencil, then at Jamie, who had his arms around his sobbing lover. “This morning,” Jamie said to Nick. “His moods’re jumping all over to hell and back.”

Sweet dog, Nick thought. This year couldn’t wrap up fast enough. “He’s not … um … ”

“Oh, hell no! That’s a rumor too. Male snakes can’t get knocked up.” Jamie looked suddenly panicked. “Leastwise, I hope they can’t. C’mon, sweetie, cut it out. Don’t be such a drama queen.”

“But it’s the only kind of queen I know how to be!”

“Hey.” Ralph patted Lamar’s shoulder gingerly, as if afraid whatever he had might be catching. “Look at it this way. It ain’t 2014. It’s 2013, the sequel. Same shit, different stink, y’know?" Lamar bawled louder. "Aw hell.” Ralph threw up his hands and walked away. “Hey, I tried. Who wants cake?”

“You want some cake?” Lamar asked Nick through his sniffles. “I really wanted a piƱata.” His eyes filled up again.

“It’s fine. It’s perfect. Couldn’t be better.” Nick cut himself a hunk of cake and took it back to his office, leaving Lamar and the party/wake in Jamie’s hands. Whoever claimed reptiles were cold-blooded had never tried to work with Lamar.

2013, the sequel. More of the same, only worse.

Nick nibbled the cake—it was actually tasty—then picked up his phone and dialed Rattigan’s Pub. “Hey, Louie? Nick,” he said when the rat answered. “Next time Gil comes in, give him the biggest drink you make. Put it on my tab. Tell him I know what he has to put up with as mayor and I understand completely.”

Saturday, December 28, 2013

To Sleep. . . Perchance to Dream

Gill’s eyes drooped lower.  He struggled to stay upright against his pillows.  Blackie purred softly beside him, curled tightly in a circle with her tail covering her nose.  Her empty box of kitty treats lay on the floor next to the tray littered with dirty dishes and wrappers.  A quiet day spent reading and sleeping slowly came to an end as night fell. 

 Gill wanted to clean up the kitchen and shower before bed.  That never came.  He knew another night hidden behind the dark blinds blocking out the full moon and its rays would buy him time.  Morphing during a blasted snow storm wasn’t fun.  Neither was shoveling knee deep snow.  Tomorrow would dawn soon enough.  He had duties and obligations to fulfill.  A day in squirrel form beat a night stuck outside in the cold chirping and complaining about the wind whipping through his fur.  


Gill didn’t care.  He sleepily tossed back the covers, padded to the bathroom where he brushed his teeth and hastily showered before pulling on clean pajamas.  He tidied his dishes on the tray after placing it on his dresser closest to the bedroom door.  He stuffed his dirty clothes in the hamper ready to take into the kitchen to add to the list of chores he needed to complete.  One last glance showed Blackie cuddled between the pillows at the head of the bed.  His own awaited him.  Gill clicked off the television, turned off the hall light, set the outside alarm, and bolted for the bed.

Warmth flowed over him as he snuggled beneath his electric blanket.  Two clicks later, the blanket turned off as did the lamp on the bedside table.  Talbot’s Peak Mayor’s snores filled the room.  Gill slept per chance to dream.  Or he dreamt to sleep deep and gain the rest he needed.


Good Night Gang!

It's been a long week at work with Christmas midweek.  I've got two more days left before month's end to complete.  The year is almost over.  Sorry for the late post.

May the New Year bring you joy, peace, love, and happiness.  May health and wealth be yours to share and enjoy in ways that help your and the world.  Blessed be and Merry met!

We here at the Spice Homestead wish all you a safe, healthy and prosperous New Year!

Until next week in the New Year!


Friday, December 27, 2013

Dropping the Bomb...

Ziva paced in front of Nick’s large log home wondering why everyone else thought it was uninviting.   The fireplace inside was huge with a wide stone hearth that called for, well, sex. 

Damn!  Why did it always come back to sex in her mind?

Probably because she was as needy as her family and wanted to indulge in their kinky play again.  It had been far too long since they’d actually played.  Oh there was the outdoor sex, but that was before Thanksgiving and it was now after Christmas.

Of course, in the days between then and now had been filled with reconnecting, just not physically.  She’d hoped and planned for wicked Christmas sex, but instead she’d gotten Reetha–her past bestie and major pain in the ass. 

Mildly exhausted and nauseated, Ziva dug and snuffled through inches of snow to reach the frozen grass.  It tasted nasty, but it would get the job done.  Hopefully, the resulting puke would settle her stomach long enough to plead her case with Nick before he caught her new and improved scent. 

It didn’t take very many of the frozen blades for nature to take its course.  She bolted around the back of the house, deeper into the woods, but not out of hearing distance.  She needed to make sure he didn’t leave before she was done changing the color of the snow.

“Unbelievable, urReetha!”

“Shuddup, Looney Mooney.”

Damn it!  Ziva gagged as quietly as possible in her wolf form, not wanting to be overheard.
What were Reetha and Mooney doing here?  She’d planned to say her peace and give Nick the news in private.  Last she’d heard from Marissa, Reetha was spending some time, this time, with her and Mooney, getting to know the boys.  What had changed?

“You return from California, where you’ve conveniently been living without telling anyone, at Christmas and then when I let you spend time with your nephews you give me that?  In front of Marissa as well?  Fucking Lupa…”

“It was a gift…who knew you’d decided to go ape.  Last I knew you had a powerful thing for that Kitty chick.  So really the gift was perfect … it looked just like her.”

“Don’t refer to Marissa as an ape!  Ever!”

Ziva continued to heave, hoping the duo…


… make that a trio now that Vernon had bellowed, would move on and leave Nick free.

“Pops” “Daddy

“Both of you hush.  Now, Mooney …”

“Oh sure, the old boys club strikes again.  Why ask Looney first, huh?  Favoritism much?”

“Reetha, that’s an old, ridiculous, argument.  I love you all the same.  Why, I’m not sure sometimes, but I do.  Now, I know your position.  You bought Mooney a present.  I want to know why he has a problem with it … Son?”

“It was both the picture and the delivery I’m angry over…”

“The delivery?  I thought that was ingenious.”

“Of course you did, but that was the worst part.  You showed a picture of a cat to my family and said that you’d brought me a…”

“Little pussy for Christmas … acha…cha…cha.”

Ziva groaned and not from just the typically bad joke from Reetha, but more from the full body regurg that was happening not twenty feet from the front door.

“All of you shut up. Now!”

“What is it, Nick?”  “Son?” “What no laugh about my delivery?”

“Anyone hear that?”

“Hear what?” “Seriously, ‘a little pussy’ along with the picture.  Good right.”

“It sounded like a sick animal and its scent is … off.”

Great.  She could hear footsteps coming around the house, but was still gack deep in vomit.

“My one-liner gets dismissed for some sick wolf?  Just shoot it.  I have a gun here in my purse.”

“NO!  That’s Ziva.” 

The bellow startled her down to her toes and the last thing she witnessed was an enraged Nick attacking his sister and Reetha giving her a wink and a smile as she went down.  Then darkness.  Blessed darkness.


Ziva came to snuggled and warm, wrapped in a blanked that smelled of Nick, the night before coming back to her slowly.  Nervous, nauseated and being too short on cash to feed herself and the other three women in her family, she’d not eaten or drunk enough in the last few days and it had caught up to her at the worst time.

“Something you want to tell me?”

Startled, Ziva covered her stomach under the blanket and turned to look at her love.  “Ah, I …”

“Wait.”  Nick held up his hand and stopped any fib she may have been about to tell with his next words.  “Lou was out a few hours ago and gave you a clean bill of health for someone four weeks along who is sorely lacking adequate liquids and food.  Now, what would you like to tell me?”

“It’s a Thanksgiving Miracle?”


Nick blew out a breath and counted backwards from five.  He could not lose his temper here, not now and not with, oh Lupa, the mother of his cub.   “I shouldn’t be surprised our child would be created from a game of naked chase.”

“Ha…true, but we’re not naming her Chase.”

“What makes you think that little mustard seed is a girl?  I’ve decided to only make boys…”

“Well that’s sexist of you.  You have something against girls?”

Nick grinned.  Even as nervous as she had to be in this situation, she hid it well.  “I like women…one in particular, but having a daughter with her beautiful face and soulful eyes would kill me.  Or land me in jail when I killed anyone to cross her sweetness.  Boys I can teach to fight, to rule.  A girl…”

“Can fight and rule just the same, Mr. Editor Man.”

Any daughter of theirs, with her mother’s genes would be one hell of a fighter and he would make sure she ruled well, the one area her mother struggled with.  “When’s the last time you ate, Z?”

“Dahm-bfnoer yesterday.”  She mumbled.

At least she had the sense not to lie outright to him.  Hedging he wasn’t crazy about, but he’d count again and stay cool.  “There’s saltines and clear soda on the bedside table.  Get some in and we’ll get you up and fed real food when you’re ready.”

“Sweet Lupa,” she mumbled again, thinking he wouldn’t hear as she started to eat.

“Have you been making sure your family eats before you again?”

“I’m responsible for them, Nick,” she huffed.  “You know what that’s like so don’t give me shite for it.”

“You now have a responsibility to our child…”  Nick once again held up a hand to halt her response. 
“That being said, you will take your meals here or wherever I am and let your family eat whatever is at your house.  You will also come back to work so you have money to feed your tribe.  That does not mean I expect you back in my bed, but I would like the chance to earn my way back into yours.  What do you think?

“Yes, so very much yes.”
Well, Nick took that better than I'd given him credit for in the past.  Now, Ziva needs to get on with the fessing up about her part in Reetha's running away.

Stay tuned...

Next week we'll be Blog Hopping into the New Year.  More details to come.

Keep warm,

Wednesday, December 25, 2013

Merry Christmas! Feliz Navidad! Mele Kalikimaka! Joyeux Noel!

Good morning! Merry Christmas! For you, I have a gift of free reads. Or mostly free reads, anyway. If you go to Smashwords to grab your copy of my very short novella, "Quick-Fix Wedding," it's free. Amazon.com insists that it has to be 99 cents and I can't manually make it free there. However, if a bunch of people click on the "report this at a lower price" link, Amazon may eventually make it free due to price matching. If you feel like sticking it in Amazon's back, feel free to use the Smashwords link to brag to Amazon that you paid nothing for your copy. ;) I have to admit, I have not yet begun to try and figure out how to get it uploaded on Nook Books yet. It took entirely too long to figure out Smashwords and I am now mildly traumatized.

This is almost exactly like the first few chapters that I posted around Thanksgiving. However, a few things were changed in the final editing and it's now set on Christmas Eve rather than the day before Thanksgiving. It's very short, running about 11,000 words, has only one short love scene, and a nice stinger hidden in the epilogue. I hope you like it.

Any way, Merry Christmas!

~ Rebecca

"Purchase" Links:



Tuesday, December 24, 2013

Why All the Snow Animals in Talbot's Peak

Howliday Christmas Eve greetings, shapeshifter lovers.

I hope to have a New Year's Eve surprise for everyone soon.

Meanwhile, here's the fourth installment starring Drey, the wolf rancher, and Korinne, who has escaped to the Montana wilds after her ex-husband stole her most of her wealth.


Why All the Snow Animals in Talbot's Peak

Drey wanted to leap and bound like a young cub after a butterfly, and say he'd find a reindeer herd tomorrow. The wisdom of his years prevailed, though. Korinne needed time to adjust to him, to the idea that he was serious about bringing reindeer to his ranch.

"Why not?" he answered her question. "I'll do some research. Find out what's possible."

Korinne's eyes glimmered with a mustard seed's worth of hope, to his eye, before she averted her gaze. She placed her bowl on a small, rough-hewn table beside the rocker, then hugged herself. "I know where Jingle's relatives are. I kept track over the years. Once Dad became housebound... and I... well, he gave them to a wonderful family in Wisconsin. They raise Christmas trees, and are fairly isolated. Although, they do give sleigh rides in the town closest to them."

"Once this snowstorm eases off, and I get back to the ranch, I'll give them a holler." Watching from his peripheral vision, Drey saw her wan tiny smile. He deliberately eased his posture, and finished off the stew and cornbread.

"That would be like a Christmas miracle," she softly replied, picking up her bowl. "I have a question for you."

Drey set his bowl to the side, glad for the opportunity to gaze full-on at her face, beautiful despite the fine lines of stress. "I might have your answer," he drawled teasingly.

"You might." Her glance pinned him for a moment. "Why all the snow animals in Talbot's Peak? I mean when I was in town the other day, the yards were littered with all kinds of animals built out of snow... instead of snowmen. Especially wolves," she added.

"Seems like birds of feather flock together, meaning lots of us who care about animals, domestic and the wild ones, have moved to the area over the years." Studying her expression, Drey continued, "Lots of wolf sightings around here. The big cats, too."

"Can't say I've seen that many sightings of wild critters. Except for birds and the usual, like raccoons and rabbits." Korinne gave a little shake of her head, her long braid sinuous against her flannel-covered breast. "Of course, I stay close to the cabin. And usually have a fire going."

Drey debated with himself whether he should take the conversation farther on down the trail... about him being a wolf shifter and all. "'Round here we let nature take it's course, for the most part. We only hunt for food. Now if there's a rogue, a killer, then we ain't got no choice. Happens rarely, though."

Korinne eyed him, and her mouth tipped upward in a quick smile. "At least, there hasn't been a starving pack of wolves at my door... or coyotes," she offered, referencing their prior conversation. "I have seen a few coyotes, and their tracks."

Dang those Vance brothers. He had competition. Drey kept his grimace to himself.

Zip and Zap, as they were known, were coyote shifters. They'd wrangled a regular gig crooning old-timey and popular western tunes at the Pleasure Club in the recently added cowboy bar and dance club. The one sorta modeled after that John Travolta movie. What was what it... "Urban Cowboy"... damn their moth-eaten hides!

"Yep, lots of coyotes been movin' in lately. Seems as though there's enough room for them and the wolf packs." To lighten the mood, and find out more about Korinne, Drey asked, "What was your favorite snow animal?"

"Well, there was a reindeer obviously made by younger children. They'd put Christmas bulbs on the antlers." Her face took on a lovely shine, her gaze far away as she remembered. "I have to say I was impressed with the creativity. Especially the squirrel in front of the mayor's office." She paused. "I don't know about one favorite. The unicorn was beautiful. And one of the wolves looked so real, I looked twice just to make certain. Then, there were the werewolf ice sculptures. You know close to that dog bowl fountain."

"Yep," Drey poked at the roaring fire, then tossed in a couple of smaller logs. "That's become an annual tradition. Mid January we have a contest for the best shapeshifting ice sculptures. Used to be only werewolves."

"Not to offend anyone, but Talbot's Peak does have an eccentric population. Quite a change from my neck of the woods."

Drey watched Korinne stretch, but only minimally, given she was too aware of his presence. The wild urge to wrap his arms around her, his entire body around her, then carry her... he mentally bit that savage desire hard, stopping the fantasy.

"Eccentric is one way of puttin' it, Korinne. Some say a lot of high strangeness is goin' on. Ever been interested in the paranormal?"

"Who isn't these days?" Korinne quirked a brow. Rising, she moved to the window, and Drey couldn't take his wolf stare off her hips. "It seems as if the whole world has gone fast and furious, including the snow," she tossed over her shoulder.

"Montana has been gettin' dumped on pretty good this year. Wasn't expectin' this much, though." Drey spoke true. He'd figured now was the time to check on her. Then again, he silently howled a big ole thank you to fate.

"How about some hot chocolate?" she began, spinning on the heels of her faux-fur boots. Drey watched her expression transform -- her body still. "Wow... talk about high strangeness. I'm recalling this dream I had."

"Dream?" he asked, sensing it was more than just a regular dream.

"Explaining dreams is always difficult. And takes forever."

"Looks like we got lots of time." Drey lifted the fire poker, and made a show of tending the flames so they fed on the logs more efficiently.

He heard Korinne's soft slow steps as she returned to her rocking chair, and sat. "It began as a dream about Jingle. We were off on all sorts of wonderful but odd adventures. Then... there was this other reindeer who knew Jingle. She was paler in color, taller... as if she'd stepped out of a Christmas fantasy story."

"Like she belonged to a different realm?" Drey asked, his gaze now glued on Korinne's face. She didn't see him, given she was utterly immersed in visually seeing her dream again.

"You could say that. She came to me after I promised I wouldn't hurt her. I was petting her muzzle, admiring her... when suddenly she morphed into a woman. A beautiful woman, of course... she looked somewhat like an American Indian yet alien, too. Or like a character from a fantasy. Her skin was luminous, unlike human skin... her eyes were so similar to the reindeer's. Her coloring similar too."

Inside, Drey celebrated. Korinne's spiritual guides wanted her to know about shapeshifters. That much was real darn clear. "Anything happen after that?" he asked after some moments passed.

"Yes... but I don't remember that part. Just the good sensations." Korinne deflated before his eyes. She nestled deep into the back cushion of her rocker, sadness owning every line of her body.

"Make a good book," Drey spoke in the silence. "Have you ever written a story?"

She sighed, a sound that tore at his heart. "Used to. When I was at college, I wrote nonstop. It was a passion. Nothing ever came of it, though. As far as being published."

"Times have changed. You can publish whatever you want." Drey drew in a breath, and raced ahead. "Long ago, I worked in the movies, Korinne. Mostly as a stuntman. But I know a bit about scripts, and such."

She eyed him, her speculative gaze piercing him. "Stuntman, huh?"

"Yep. I'll put on a show for you... ridin' and ropin'... one of these days." Drey damn well hoped he'd putting on a show for her. In bed. Out of bed. Anywhere she wanted. Anything she wanted.


Have a Magickal Holiday Season...  


Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance

Monday, December 23, 2013

Silent Night

Porker peered out the bedroom window for what must have been the dozenth time that evening. “Are you s-s-sure your f-f-folks w-w-won’t be back?”

Mary tugged him away from the window and back to the bed. She’d already explained, in signing and writing, that they had the house to themselves. Yes, Vern McMahon had happily abandoned his bachelor apartment and moved into the rural Ewing home when he’d married Elly. But tonight, Christmas Eve, they were down in Talbot’s Peak sharing the holiday with Mooney and Marissa and the grandpups. They wouldn’t be home until well after Loki and Thor had made a thorough mess of the living room ripping into their gifts on Christmas morning.

Porker glanced at the window again. “Your b-b-b-brothers—”

Have their own apartments, Mary signed. And dates. Wherever they drag home to in the morning, it won’t be here. She snuggled closer to Porker. It’s just you and me, all night long, on Christmas.

Porker opened his mouth. Mary shut it with a finger on his lips, then opened it again with a kiss. Her private world of silence expanded to encompass the bedroom. Porker willingly joined in.

Finally Mary pulled back. She teased at the zipper on his leather biker jacket. Do you want your present now or later?

He didn’t bother with signing. He went right for her fuzzy Christmas sweater. She slid his jacket off his fine bulky shoulders. Each eyed their gifts and found them exactly what they wanted.

Porker pointed to the window without speaking. Mary glanced beyond him. A fine snow had begun to swirl down from the cloudy skies. A white Christmas was pretty much a given in this part of Montana, but the timing of this storm was excellent.

They took their time removing each other’s outer clothing. Mary slid out of her silk bra and panties. Those were a gift from Penelope, and too delicate to risk in a boar’s eager hands. Mary herself wasn’t delicate, and on this special night she fully intended to prove it.

Merry Christmas, Brian, she mouthed.

Porker frowned. “I t-t-told you not to c-c-c-all me—” he started, when Mary shut him up with her mouth again. She snuck her hand down his boxers to seal the deal. Porker forgot all about his annoyance over his given name. He held her close and murmured words Mary couldn’t hear. His hands, however, shouted out his message loud and clear. Merry Christmas, babe.

And the rest, as they say, is silence. Except for some grunts and one long squeal, and soft, ecstatic bleats.

Saturday, December 21, 2013

A Winter Night's Repose

Gil looked out his bedroom window.  Grimacing, he hastily dropped the curtain he held.  Snowflakes fell fast and furious littering the front lawn and side yard faster than he could count.  By morning the accumulation would be several inches deep with more on the way.   Christmas was less than a week away.  

Rachel’s where bouts remained a mystery.  No one knew how to reach her.  Her desk looked empty and strangely dank with her gone.  Gil hoped she returned soon.  He missed her. 

Gil turned back to his bed where Blackie lay curled up in a mound of blankets.  Her golden eyes watched him as he strode around the room tidying.  Not ready for bed or sleep, Gil puttered around his portion of the mayor mansion wondering if he would seek re-election come spring.   Maybe another road trip with Phil and the boys fishing might come about.  Gil wondered how stir crazy he would get before he morphed racing through the trees under the light of the full moon chasing some female squirrel he had no other interest in than sex.

Sighing, Gil picked up a book from the shelf near where Rachel last sat before she left on vacation.  The title puzzled him.  He started leafing through the pages yesterday.  He opened to a page and read.  The story told of a young prince named Tyburn who longed to see his kingdom.  His father held him at bay from all outside of an elite group of advisors and servants.  Gil shook his head as he placed the book back where he found it.  Too much flight of fantasy for him.  He liked his fiction full of adventure and action.  His favorite author’s last release compelled him to crawl between the pages and loose himself within the words and characters.  

A short trip to the kitchen later, Gil trotted back into his bedroom carrying a tray laden with snacks, a sandwich, and a mug of mixed nut tea.  Two pieces of peppermint candy lay next to the steaming mug.  Their tangy essence mixed with the tea would ease the craving his taste buds had for items he didn’t have in stock.  Blackie rose from her place on the bed, mewing and pawing him.  He reached down, scratched her ears, and petted her.  

Two plaintiff mews later, Gil rose from the bed.  He re-entered the kitchen, rummaged in the cabinet closet to the door.  He found the box of kitty treats.  Back in bed with the covers around him, he lay propped up with his book open resting on his knees.  Blackie lay close by crunching and purring.  A half empty box of treats lay next to her.

T'was days before Christmas and through the mayoral mansion, shifter and animal settled down for a winter night’s repose. 

Merry Christmas Gang!  Happy Holidays and Merry Meet!  Blessed Be!  Yule and Solstice are upon us.  May your yule logs burn bright and blessing abound for you and yours!  From the Spice Homestead to all of you, we wish you a merriest holiday season and a bright new year.

Until next week,


Friday, December 20, 2013

McMahon Mojo...

“Here Dad …”

Nick smirked as Loki all but threw the steaming cup on the table in front of Mooney.  The delicate china wobbled and splashed out onto his brother’s hand as he tried to right the thing and keep the liquid from spilling into his lap.  Loki, unperturbed by his father’s growls of frustration stood with his hand out, clearly waiting for his tip.

He could hear the clink, clink of another cup coming his way and looked to Thor who was trying to go slow, but the dribbles following him told another story.  Nick scooted his chair back and let Thor thunk the cup and saucer onto the table in front of him.

“Ten dollars, please.”  Thor announced, also putting his hand out.

“Fifteen dollars,” Loki said, not wanting to be under sold.

“That’s a bit steep for a cup of … what the hell is this?”  Mooney grumbled, “Its fricking green.”

“Mom … Dad wants to know what the hell the green stuff is.”  Loki hollered back at the counter.

“Language!  All of you …” Marissa wagged her finger and Nick could see the heat flair in his brother’s eyes.  ”That is green tea for my sweets and Earl Grey for our illustrious newspaper editor.”

“No!”  Mooney bellowed.  “I ordered coffee, with the works.”

Nick sipped the tea and found it to be quite good.  Damn Elly had made him eat herbie food over Thanksgiving and now Marissa with the tea.  It was a conspiracy to make them eat better, but it was one that was working.  He actually felt better and had more energy if he paired his protein with some greens.  He wondered what Ziva would think is she knew.

His brother on the other hand was holding strong to the carnivore lifestyle and the more Marissa pushed the more he ate crap.  Not around the wonderful witch, but at work with the other carnies.

“That coffee with the works, Mooney, is giving you a paunch.  The Green tea is good for you and will help with the pooch thing.  Drink it.”  Marissa started to walk away, but his nephews didn’t.  They remained with their hands out.

With a nod of respect, Nick pulled out his wallet and laid a five in each of their hands.  “For the nerve to spill tea all over the customer and demand payment anyway.  You two are truly McMahons.  Now take a hike and let me talk to your pops, then later the three of us will take a run in the woods.”

“Yes!” “Yeah!”

He loved their enthusiasm.  And audacity.  They kept them all on their toes but the rewards were worth it.  Some day he hoped, he and Ziva would have a couple cubs to raise and love of their own.

“You spoil them Nick, but I’m going to take advantage of that today and take their time away to win coffee rights back from the Misses.”

“Good luck.  Try the tea though, it is good.”

“Yeah, Yeah.” 

Mooney sipped and grimaced, then sipped again.  Nick smirked as he enjoyed his brew.

“Rumor mills running strong that you and Ziva have reconciled.  Any truth to that?”

“More like are starting to meet each other half ways.  I’m hoping we can spend some time on Christmas together.”

“Cool.”  Mooney nodded, cleared his throat and started again.  “You’ve, ah, been surprisingly laid back these last few weeks considering your, ah, lack of sex.”

“Who says that’s been lacking?”

“Hell, Nick, you work, run and go home to that dog.  Unless there’s something going on with you and the mutt you’ve been having a very long dry spell.”

“Don’t worry about my spells … wet or dry.  Ziva …”

Nick looked up at the woman in question barreling through the shops door, out of breath and bending at the knees.   He rose and moved close to her, but didn’t touch.  They weren’t there yet though he had high hopes for Christmas.  “Are you okay?  Is someone bothering you?”

She held up her hand and lifted her head huffing out “I can explain.  I promise.  I. Can. …”

The bell over the door jiggled again and a voice he’d not heard in a very long time rent the air.  “Hello, bitches … it’s me, a friggen Christmas miracle!”

Reetha had returned.
Yeah, Reetha likes to make an entrance, she's definitely a McMahon.  :)

Happy Holiday's


Wednesday, December 18, 2013

Update and some flash

Free novella update: story's done and ready to be uploaded. Completely forgot to do the cover art. I'm pleading Christmas madness on this because that's not something I'd normally overlook. I'll have my computer out of the shop tomorrow and then I can make the cover. So, Quick-Fix Wedding should be uploaded to Smashwords, Amazon, and B&N by Friday. Maybe even tomorrow. Depends on how long it takes to get the art right.

Anywho. Here's some flash fiction for you.

~ Rebecca

T'was the night before Christmas
and all through the house
Not a creature was stirring
Not even a mouse...

"I don't think we're supposed to be in here," Gloria Goslin said, sounding worried. She glanced over her shoulder at the back door. It was closed and relocked but still. This job at Java Joe's had been a god send to her and her sisters. She sure hoped Marissa was enjoying her vacation enough to stay away a little longer.

A clinking noise from the front of the store startled her. She scurried out from the back room to see what Moon Moon was up to. Oh, her sisters were going to kill her if she cost them this job. But how could she say no? Moon Moon had looked so adorable with his large, sad golden brown eyes, mused dirty blond hair, and arm in a sling. To be honest, she'd had a bit of a crush on the big dopey wolf since he blew into town with the fall carnival and never left.

He'd had an equally adorable but dopey story to explain why he looked like he'd gotten run over by a reindeer. Because he had. A whole heard of them, in fact.

"Moon Moon!" she hissed, looking around to make sure no one passing by on the street could see him. He'd left the lights off but he had one of those pen lights clamped between his teeth so he could see what he was doing. Whatever that contraption was, it looked like he was getting it set up one-handed just fine.

"Moon Moon!" she hissed again. "Hurry up before someone sees you! It looks suspicious with you holding a flash light in the window of the darkened coffee shop!"

"Nhust ahout done," he mumbled past the flash light. She sighed with relief when he shut it off and then honked in fear when the lights of Officer Tom's patrol car turned the corner.

"Freeze!" Moon Moon growled, fitting actions with words. "He's a German Shepard shifter. He'll see sudden movement faster than two motionless shadows in a store window."

Gloria didn't know if that was true, but being a wolf, he probably knew better than a twenty-two year old virgin goose girl how to catch a preditor's eye. She fought down her natural instinct to flee as the patrol car slowly rolled by and turned the next corner.

"C'mon," Moon Moon said from right beside her. She jumped again but managed not to honk her alarm. She'd had her eyes locked on Office Tom's tail lights and hadn't noticed that he'd somehow made his way back to her side.

"What were you doing anyway?" she asked as he carefully led her back through the dark shop.

"Santa Cam," Moon Moon replied glibly.

"A what?" she asked, confused.

"I set up a Santa Cam," he said.

"Why?" He shot her one of his big, dopely sexy grins.

"To catch them in the act."

"I'm confused," she admitted. To be honest, it his explanation might have made perfect sense. But her hormones had started pinging off her uterus when he smiled so she couldn't be sure.

"To catch the reindeer in the act of flying," he continued, still grinning.

"Didn't them trampling you teach you anything about trying to catch them flying?" she asked, half exasperated. But only half. An ass that fine could get away with a lot of nonsense, she reflected, eying said ass hungrily.

"Yeah," he agreed. "It taught me to use tech rather than blindly chasing them."

"And you had to set it up in Java Joe's. Secretly. At night." He just nodded in agreement. "Why, Moon Moon?" Gloria demanded as he sneaked a peek out the back door before slowly closing it.

"Officer Tom is parked right outside the back door," he said, avoiding answering her question. That was fine because suddenly her mind was filled with visions of being arrested and then fired. "C'mon," he said and grabbed her hand.

"Moon Moon, I am not going out there with a cop right there!" she hissed.

"Good, 'cause I'm not, either. Let's go down into the basement and wait him out."

"What are we going to do down there?" she asked, nervously eyeing the dark stairs. She gasped when he jerked her in close and wrapped his one good arm around her.

"Oh, I can think of a few things," he said, his smile looking like a fox in the hen house. Or rather, like a wolf who wanted into the goose's pants. Gloria smiled back, realizing that maybe he'd had a very good reason for wanting her to help him sneak in after dark.