Saturday, March 30, 2013

Phil Did What?!

Gill wiped his mouth, quaffed half of his open beer, and belched.  “Damn good eats,” he called out, reaching for another roasted corn ear. Grunts and nods sounded as the clatter of forks and knives continued.  

Ranger sat at the head of the table near the grill which held the day’s catch.  Filleted trout, blue gill, and bass covered on portion of the grill.  Next to them skewers of pineapple and veggies warmed and finally T-bone steaks ranging from well done to damn near rare lay cooking.  Louie sat close to Ranger and not far from his beloved grill.  

No fights had broken out in the two days they’d been on the road.  Ranger took orders and prepped food with a keen insight.  Louie’s comments about finding a new assistant had Hadley spitting beer across the table more than once.  Gill wondered how many times he could stifle his mirth before anyone caught on.  They were an unlikely group of friends.   He wanted them to remain friends after the road trip.

“Gents,” Louie began tapping on his beer can.  “I salute the chef and his assistant.”  Louie raised his can and shook it.  “Thank you Hadley for bringing Ranger along.”

Hadley looked up, sneered, and went back to eating.  Ranger lofted his can and cleared his throat.

Gill damn near choked on his own spit.  Ranger was going to speak?  He’d barely said two words since they’d hit the road. Gill braced himself for what he hoped wasn’t a fight spoiling to happen.

“Hadley put me in charge of reconnoitering.  I got Phil news.” Ranger set his can down and reached into his jeans jacket pocket.  He pulled out a crumpled newspaper and tossed it on the table.  “Phil made the headlines.”

“ Again!”  Hadley tossed his knife on his plate.  “Blasted groundhog.”

Gill caught his tongue between his teeth.  They all knew they weren’t going to bother with catching the vermin.  Why couldn’t Phil lay low like they told him to?  He was supposed to hunt and fish with them down south for a few weeks and then sneak back to Pennsylvania for the summer. His missus was due near that time to whelp their litter of younglings.  She knew he’d gone into hiding.

Louie pulled the paper to him, smoothing out the page.  He shook his head as he read, snorted and handed it to Hadley who reacted similarly before tossing the page at Gill.

Gill grabbed the sheet, read, and burst out laughing.  “Well you got to admit he’s clever.  Trying to get the heat off him makes sense.  Even if he didn’t succeed.”

A burst of wind billowed the sheet, exposing the other side.  Gill swallowed hard and looked wide eyed at the others as he turned the page over.


Happy Weekend Gang!

Well well looks like Phil is trying to make amends for his lousy forecasting ability.  Maybe if he'd studied his science better, he might not error so much?  

The end of March is here and with it comes buds and pollen.  My allergies are making their visit known.  Buying stock in tissue manufacturers might be a worth while investment this year.

How ever you celebrate the seasonal change, remember to take time to share a good book or two with your loves and spice.  I am!


Friday, March 29, 2013

Spring is in the Air!

Greely took another turn through the wondrous ‘pool of nutritive dung saliva’ or PONDS for short at the back of Erol’s underwater grotto and thanked her lucky stars she’d trusted him to bring her here.  The trip down had been terrifying, inside his dragon mouth with those rows of jagged teeth surrounding her, her little froggy heart had nearly given out.

“How are you doing, Fair One?”

Greely ribbited happily as Erol picked up her frog form with its newly healed skin.  She had to give credit to this normally beastly man for knowing what she’d needed and bringing her to it so quickly.  His past gifts had been lackluster at best…hell ‘a-frightening at worst, but this one was perfect.  She moved to the side of his hand and hoped he received her gesture about wanting down.

“Wait, my sweet,” he whispered, enveloping her between both of his strong, smithy hands.  “Let me place you safely down upon the floor.”   

Wow, who’d have guessed his sometimes antiquated speech patterns would turn her on this much.
Certainly, not her.  Heck, after that fiasco of getting her banned from Pebble Pond, she figured she’d want nothing more than to light his tail on fire, but now after her healing bath and his gentlemanly behavior, that fire thing had been moved to the back burner.

Greely hopped to the frothy hot spring several steps away from the PONDS intending to clean up, and then change the gentleman into a passionate beast.  Spring was in the air above in Talbot’s Peak, but even more so here in the grotto.  She may not have the direct sunshine, but the way the sun played peek-a-boo through the natural vents, glancing over the water and gems, it was just as soothing and quite romantic.

A smile curved her froggy mouth at the thought of the hours of lust she was going to expend with the Smith, and the strength he had in those arms alone.  No doubt she would be trying out all those positions she’d only ever read about.  “Hot damn” came out sounding more like “Riib-biit” as she jumped in, shifting to human as she went.


The dragons roar wasn’t half as startling as the part man, part beast lifting her from her hiding place beneath the bubbling water.  She dangled, quite naked, from the strong human grip of a blacksmith while staring into
the green orbs of a clearly panicked dragon head.

“Put me down, please.” Greely focused on calming her racing heart and not blushing at the state of her undress.  She was far from prude, she’d been planning on getting down and dirty with him just moments ago and now that this man had healed her winter beaten skin she looked better than she had in a very long time.  That, however, did nothing to ease her nerves.  She wanted those first naked moments to be filled with passion, not fear.


Erol slowly lowered his mate back into the water where she sunk into the depths.  Besides turning her blush of embarrassment into the flush of warmth, she covered the sweetest white skin, the longest legs and most beautiful breasts he’d ever had the pleasure of seeing with the murky water of the hot spring.

He forced down the fear that had caused his partial shift and once again became human.  “I apologize, Fair One, for causing you distress.  It was not my intent.”

“No, it was me…I can see where entering this hot water in my animal state could cause you distress.  It sure wouldn’t take long to become froggy soup.”

“Yes, and if anything is going to cause my mate to burn, I want it to be me…”

Well, it's finally starting to feel like spring here in MN...30's to upper 40 degree weather for a change.  I know it might sound cold, but let me assure you, after many below zero days this winter, it feels like a heat wave!  LOL

May Spring find you and yours like it did here and in Erol's lovely Grotto!


Wednesday, March 27, 2013

Guts & Butts Online: News From Across the Pond

White House Can’t Afford Its Shapeshifting Alien Reptile Guards

Is it? Can it be true? Watch the vid and YOU be the judge! Most telling though, was this comment by the National Security Council: "I can't confirm the claims made in this video, but any alleged program to guard the president with aliens or robots would likely have to be scaled back or eliminated in the sequester," spokeswoman Caitlin Hayden said. "I'd refer you to the Secret Service or Area 51 for more details."

Tuesday, March 26, 2013

The Capricious Wolfen Countess

Tuesday howls and yowls, shapeshifter lovers.

Winter has returned to my tame prairie, with a thin blanket of snow and lots of glistening icicles. There's a Full Moon in Libra tomorrow... definitely a time to balance out your life. Or, in my case walk that tightrope of trying to get everything done, but never succeeding.

I did get some promo-ing done for my ShapeShifter Seductions' release: HER MIDNIGHT STARDUST COWBOYS. For a couple of excerpts just click on my page above.

So, my flash scene for today... it's rough around the edges, and not fully developed... but I like the idea, which was inspired by Pat Cunningham's post a week ago Monday, titled: "Horse Whispering"... and by Kirsten Lynn's wonderful guest post at Wild and Wicked Cowboys, where she blogged about -- yes it's a real sport, Cowboy Polo -- the history and the present.

And, since I've always wanted to learn how to play Polo, well... besides, my Muse wanted to play this way, and I'm too worn out to deny Her anything.


The Capricious Wolfen Countess

Kwolfie swung around sideways, getting comfortable in the library's old stuffed chair. She kicked off her loosely tied running shoes, and dangled her bare legs over the cushioned arm.

Probably a relic from the fifties, the chair smelled like someone's garage. The variety of odors rather appealed to her sensitive canine nose, and Kwolfie inhaled deeply as she cracked open the paperback romance novel -- a new one she'd been counting the days to read.

Given her three brothers, along with her sire and dam, teased her nonstop about her taste in literature, Kwolfie usually escaped to the Talbot's Peak's library. Because no matter the torment, she just had to indulge her insatiable appetite for paranormal erotic romance novels, especially the shapeshifter love stories.

Grrrr...go to dog pound hell, she mentally cursed her annoyingly uncouth brothers.  Although, she gave them high marks for being true protectors of their wolf shifter kind.

With anticipation zinging through her, Kwolfie turned the pages to chapter one. Before settling down to lose herself in the story, she wiggled with excitement, and gave her unruly hair a toss.

As she focused on the opening paragraph, Kwolfie halted the uninhibited swing of her legs, crossing them. But her reading enjoyment was interrupted.

Aware she'd become the object of someone's scrutiny, Kwolfie didn't look up. Instead, she carefully sensed for malevolent intent. She'd undergone rigorous training by the three Mages, who had traveled to Earth with her extended family -- about three spins of sun now.

Feeling no threat from the man standing behind the nearest row of bookshelves, Kwolfie put up her mind shield, and blocked out his thoughts. After all, she only had about an hour of Earth time to read before one of her brothers would track her to the library, and make a smirking, big-lump nuisance of himself.


Holy hell, it is the countess. Stunned that he'd found her so easily, Dak nearly forgot about the rare prize he held, the autobiography of a polo pony shifter.

He stared at the alien-world wolfen countess, downright captured by her girl-next-door beauty. As she dangled her legs over the arm of the chair, then swung them in a carefree manner, his tongue almost lolled out.

Down, son, he told is cock, no misbehavin' in a public library.

Dak forced his gaze from her naked shapely legs, even though her human gams begged for his touch, and so much more. Damn, the council's snake shifter informant hadn't spoken with forked tongue.

Having observed the royal cruiser's approach to Earth -- some three years ago -- from a high point in the Rocky Mountains, the Lupine Council had attempted to mind-scan their off-world relatives. Only able to learn the ratio of males to females, and verify they were an aristocratic family pack, the Council elders decided to use their network of informers.

He'd been summoned now that they'd finally gotten some info. As a dilute Lupine, or what some called a half-breed, Dak moved easily in the human world. Over the years of going on these scouting missions, he'd learned the ropes, and earned the top spot.

Most comfortable in the world of cowboys as a lone wolf type, he currently worked on a Sheridan, Wyoming ranch that was famous for their first-rate polo ponies. And heckfire, if he hadn't developed a real yen for the sport.

Dak fought the urge to make immediate contact with the countess. The beguiling beauty's mind shield had slammed him out so fast, she hadn't known he tried to telepathically probe her.

Just as well for now, Dak figured. But, he had gotten a mental glimpse of the book she'd buried her pretty little nose in.

One of them romance novels with all the explicit sex. Dak decided as he watched her read like there was no tomorrow, all curled up and wolf-woman adorable -- oh, yeah hell, believe it son, he'd read one of them erotic romances out loud to her. He'd read every last one of 'em in the shapeshifter town's library.


~ Happy Full Moon in Libra Howls ~ 


Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance ~

Sunday, March 24, 2013

Truth In Advertising

Ralph Rates ‘Em
Movie reviews by Ralph Bruin

I was going to review the new Rock movie—he can call himself Dwayne Johnson all he wants, he’ll always be the Rock and I can smell what he’s cooking—but I got a bone to pick with whatever dumbass comes up with film titles. A lot of people pick their flicks based on whether the title sounds good, so that title damn well better describe what the movie’s about. Accurately, I mean. That ain’t always so.

Take last week. I was flipping channels and I see this movie coming up called Night of the Iguana. And I think, hot damn, monster movie, hordes of lizards chomping on stupid humans. I am so down with that. Well, screw me and my expectations, because there weren’t any lizards, giant or otherwise, in the whole damn thing. It was about some douchebag preacher boning the local skank. I don’t want to see that! I want to see dinosaurs knocking buildings over and crushing cars and monkeys running through the streets screaming and wetting their pants. Contest time: two free passes to the Talbot Twin to anybody who can tell me where the goddamn iguana was. Otherwise call it The Preacher’s Randy Prick or something, so the viewer knows what he’s getting into.

Or Cloverfield. Sounds British, don’t it? All la-de-dah, Hugh Grant on some country estate trying to get into Gwineth Paltrow’s pants. Well, guess what? That’s the monster movie. Cloverfield is about this big alien motherfucker ripping up New York and wiping out all the whiny turds who are too stupid to live anyway. Seriously, does the title Cloverfield conjure up pictures of space monsters trashing New York in your head? Mine either. They should of switched those titles. Night of the Iguana for the monster movie and Cloverfield for the skank flick. Makes a helluva lot more sense that way.

Now Terminator, that was a bait and switch. Yeah, it’s got Arnold and guns and people get wasted and shit blows up and stuff. But when Arnie’s not on screen, it turns into a chick flick. The guy’s a wuss who came back through time for Twu Wuv and the chick’s got this annoying voice that makes me just want to claw her face off. She’s better in the sequel, she gets all buff and kick-ass and yeah, I’d do her, but that first one, gimme a break. But at least the title was accurate. For most of the movie Arnie terminates the holy hell out of people. You can always fast forward past the chick flick crap.

What I’m saying here is, Hollywood, if you want to make money and we all know you do, put a goddamn title on the goddamn movie that tells us what the hell it’s about. None of this artsy, look-how-clever-I-am scat. Look at Alien. Or Snakes on a Plane. Simple and direct. There’s a reason those flicks make money. It’s because we know what we’re spending our seven or eight bucks on. C’mon. A River Runs Through It? Through what? My basement? I don’t want to be exposed to you and your fucking literary pretentions. I just want to watch a good movie.

While you’re at it, make more flicks like The Avengers. That movie was awesome.

Okay. G.I. Joe. I’m giving it five bear claws because the Rock’s in it and because Joe ain’t no chick flick wussy boy. He’s a real American hero. You don’t like it, go watch TV. I’m out of here.

# # #

“You know, Nick,” Ziva said, “I don’t think Ralph’s cut out to be a movie reviewer.”

“But he makes some valid points. You did think Hugh Grant was in Cloverfield.”

“My mistake.” She shuddered at more than the memory. “It’s just that his taste in film is a little … basic.”

“Well, we can’t make him a food critic. He’s been banned from almost every restaurant in town.” Nick slapped his desk. “I’ve got it. We’ll give him an op-ed column. Let him go to town on whatever pisses him off. Like a grizzly bear version of Andy Rooney. Come to think of it, ol’ Andy may have been a grizzly bear. Or some kind of bear. He was always grumpy, like he never got to hibernate long enough."

“I’m still not sure we can trust Ralph with anything in writing.”

“True, but it will get him out of the newsroom.”

Ziva smiled. “Op-ed column it is.”

Saturday, March 23, 2013

Spring Break Talbot's Peak Style

Gill looked at the sign hanging right in sight.  Bold letters and large detailed picture made sure there was no mistaking the implied message.  Louie had taken his with him two hours prior.  Hadley had one hung in the window of the motorcycle shop. 

Melody and Rascal had taken off for parts unknown after their last argument.  Not that Gill cared.  Her idea about kids and marriage was more than he was ready to hear much less talk about.  Three months of dating and the female acted like she married him.  Bettina had even mouthed good riddens as Melody’s car left gravel flying after her fight with her supposed best friend.  The mayoral mansion was quiet.  No problem.  Friday night poker tournaments had gotten off to a rambunctious start. 

And there was Phil.  That nasty lying conniving ground hog.  Rumor was he was running south as fast as his four stubby legs and feet would take him.   

Gill looked over at the traps he’d confiscated.  No harming Phil if they caught up with him.  Bets were they wouldn’t.  A trip to find the culprit had turned into a road trip vacation.  Bettina would have the traps under lock and key come morning.  

Gill smiled as he looked at the rows of boxes lining the wall closest to his office door.  Beer, hot dogs, corn nuts, poker chips and four decks of cards filled one box.  Louie’s grill utensils and various seasonings filled the next.  The third held assorted girlie magazines, fire starter material according to Hadley and Ranger, and other DVDs along with more reading material.  In the back of Louie’s truck their fishing poles and bait boxes took up one side of the pickup.  Large ice chests and charcoal took up two corners of the bed. 

Hadley had keys to his cousins hunting shacks clear down to the Florida Keys and back.  Ranger's SUV held sleeping bags, toiletries, and anything miscellaneous they could come up with.  And the attached trailer held Louie's elaborate gas grill. 

Thirty more minutes and Gill’s two suite cases were joining Louie’s in the bed of the pickup.  Spring Break was commencing somewhere warm and they were gonna find where that was!

Happy Weekend Gang!

I'm off to a weekend filled with workships with Bob Mayer.  I'm attending with Mage, and his lovely bride.  Sunday evening sees me with my car in the garage once again.  Wheel bearings and brakes this time.  So time for me to find my Spring Break and enjoy warmth!  

Mean while share a good book or two with your loves and spices!  I know I am!


Friday, March 22, 2013

Sing Us A Song...

“I’m not listening, not listening and definitely not gonna look.  Probably he’s wimpy, and welty.  Stinky and sweaty, yeah definitely that…”  Gilly listened to the piano man croon out the soft rock of her youth mixed with what had to be his own music and tried hard not to melt.

Not an easy task this not melting thing, Gilly thought as she moved from table to table watching the customers she served.  Each and every one, enthralled with the piano man.  Even Coop, the over the top sexy bouncer, made googly eyes at the musician—which made continuing to paint him as unappealing damn difficult.


Dane sang songs he knew by heart.  His fingers slid over the ivories like soldiers coming home at long last.  All the while he watched her, his dark-haired goddess, work the room.  She delivered drinks, smiled her thanks and sent out a healing vibe to each table she approached. 

Music flowed from her with nary an instrument in sight.  Her bangle bracelets and large hoop earrings jingled with every sway of her step.  She was his gypsy, his muse…his mate.  This little sprite of a human, new to waiting tables at Dante’s piano bar was his…she just didn’t know it yet.


So my Muse has been in a fury here lately.  You'd think that would be a good thing, right?  Well yeah in most cases I suppose it would be, but not with my Muse.  See when this happens She becomes very short.  She offers up lots of ideas, just nothing with any length.  The littlest things set Her off.  This flash being one of them...

I do A LOT of driving everyday getting my Darling Diva to school and Hubby to work, then both of them picked up and then home.  Yesterday, Piano Man by Billy Joel was on the radio and Gilly popped into my head.  She's new to Talbot's Peak, alone and human.  She's gypsy-like in appearance and lifestyle, but I have no idea what her past is and my Muse either won't tell me or doesn't yet know.

Yet, this had to be today's flash, short as it is, Muse-y insisted.  Notice how every reference to Her is capitalized...yeah, She's the boss of me.

Sweet Savanna suggested I give Mz Muse-y a vaca, which is darn good idea, but being that I can't physically take her to the beach right now, I did the second best thing I could think of...lots of reading!  Menage in particular seems to be her current delight, but even that's not helping.  She devours the stories all the while continuing to blaze bright.  I never end up with fully written or fully fledged ideas when She does this, but rather a collection of idea snippets.  I shouldn't complain.  I should just roll with it, but I know what happens next...She'll burn out and go quiet...there, but not and I will miss Her terribly.  Plus, I'll be forced to play a bunch of computer games until She resurfaces.

Geez, someone want to remind me of why I became an author?  Oh, wait, there really wasn't a choice.  It was always this...


May your weekend be filled with friends and lovers, both fearless and fun-loving!


Wednesday, March 20, 2013

Guts & Butts Online: News From Across the Pond

Thanks to our affiliates and especially to our sister papers, Puffington Post and Faux News!

West Midlands Police Under Investigation After Witness Statement By Police Dog 'PC Peach' Ends Up On Twitter, Facebook

West Midlands Police Under Investigation After Witness Statement By Police Dog 'PC Peach' Ends Up On Twitter, Facebook

Huffington Post UK
By Sara C Nelson Posted: 18/02/2013 10:30 GMT
Updated: 18/02/2013 11:27 GMT

West Midlands Police, UK News .West Midlands Police is being investigated after jokingly filling out a witness statement in the name of a force dog and signing it with a paw print.

The matter arose after the Crown Prosecution Service (CPS) requested a statement from one PC Peach - apparently unaware the "officer" was actually a four-year-old police dog.

According to the Daily Mail, officers became exasperated with the requests - which continued despite explanations PC Peach was in fact a hound - so they complied.

*G&B Editorial Note: We don't see what the problem is. A cop did his job by taking out the trash, filled out the paperwork and is now getting razed for having a messy signature?

Tuesday, March 19, 2013

Finally! ShapeShifter Seductions Presents

Springing toward Spring howls and yowls, shapeshifter lovers.

Finally, after a long day... after miles and miles of roadblocks, my erotic romance menage, which is also my first ShapeShifter Seductions Presents novel, HER MIDNIGHT STARDUST COWBOYS, has been e-published at Smashwords

Later, I'll e-publish a Kindle version. Hopefully all will go okay... please, oh please.  I also plan to e-publish at AllRomanceebooks.

So... here's the blurb and a description...

Her Midnight Stardust Cowboys


Savanna Kougar

ShapeShifter Seductions Presents:

An Erotic Romance Menage Novel

A woman desperate to save herself and her prize horses.
Two shapeshifter cowboys who want her as their woman.

When Zance, a timber wolf shifter,
and Dontoya, a black cougar shifter,
find Sherilyn dying due to a reckless driver,
there is only one way to bring her back to life.
But, that's only the beginning...  


Warning: Get ready for a helluva ride in and out of the bedroom. This novel contains lots of tender and fierce erotic lovin'. There are bad guys on the trail of the heroine, a sorceress who won't take no for an answer, and a horror-movie showdown. The finale: New Year's Eve at the grand opening of the Midnight Stardust Supperclub.

Beware, Danger Ahead! Shapeshifter violence, guns, and dark magick are involved.

The cast of secondary characters includes an alpha werewolf, shapeshifters of many types and stripes -- a sprinkling of other supernatural beings/creatures -- and a palomino stallion. Oh, and at least, one human.

Please note: This is an M/F/M menage love story, where pleasuring the heroine is the sole focus of the two heroes. There is 'no' sexual relationship or touching between the two men. This book also contains explicit sexual situations, graphic language, and material that some readers may find objectionable. That is, menage fun and fantasy scenarios, and backdoor play/intercourse.

And, here's the longer blurb...

Sherilyn hides out on her small ranch near the odd town of Talbot's Peak, Montana, determined to save her prize horses from being stolen. She has no time for men. Besides she's been down that heartbreak road one too many times. The hitch: she didn't bargain on two shapeshifter cowboys who decide she belongs to them.

Zance, a timber wolf shifter, and Dontoya, a rare black cougar shifter, are longtime pardners. Having built up their immense ranch in the supernaturals community, they've settled into a cattleman's lifestyle. Now they've finally found the one woman they both want as their mate.


Whew! That's all there is from me on this post. I did have an idea for a flash scene based on Pat's read-a-romance-novel flash scene from yesterday. But that will have to wait.

~ Have a Magickal Springtime Week ~ 


Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance ~

Monday, March 18, 2013

Horse Whispering

“Dammit, lost my place again.” Dash added a second, equine swear to the first while he flipped through the thick paperback. “Why don’t you get one’a them Kindle thingies?”

“I like to save my batteries for more useful gizmos.” Dash looked at her. “Flashlights. Portable radios,” Merry clarified. “What did you think I meant?”

“Nothin’.” He and Merry had decided to take a break from chores in an empty box stall. Dash was always bugging her about the romance novels she read, so today she’d brought one along. With each page completed, Merry removed another piece of clothing. Dash had started out naked, but draped a horse blanket over his “tack.”

They cuddled together in the clean straw with the door to the stall at their backs. Dash read in whispers, punctuated with giggles from Merry, alert to the sound of hands and horses moving in and out of the barn.

“‘Riordan’—am I pronouncing that right?” Dash said.

Merry shrugged. “Hell if I know. Call him Rick or something if that makes it easier. Now read.”

“You’re the boss. ‘Rickets swept Melody into his brawny arms. ‘I’ve waited so long for this moment,’ he rasped.’ Yeah, you and me both, ya dang dawdling twit. Two hundred pages and he ain’t even kissed her yet. Any stallion farted around that long, the mares’d up and leave him. With a few swift kicks to his dangly bits as an hasta la vista.”

“Human women like to be romanced. Just getting jumped and mounted doesn’t do it for us.”

Dash smirked down at her. “No?”

“You get that look off your face right now. Fine. Sometimes quick is good, okay? Other times, slow and steady wins the race. But yeah, Riordan’s been diddlin’ around for way too long. C’mon, man, pick up the pace a little or Melody’s gonna leave you. Again.”

Dash flipped ahead. “Let’s see if he ups his game in the next chapter. If he don’t, I’m gone.”

Merry held up a pair of hobbles. “You’re not going anywhere.”

“You want to keep a horse, honey, you know what to do.”

She muttered and shed her work shirt. She was now down to bra, panties, socks and her checkered bandana. “This is the most you get until Rickets gets off his ass.”

“I better find a good scene, then. Here we go.” He leaned in close and whisper-read, “‘Rickets threw her down on the bed. His powerful hand ripped away her flimsy silken blouse. For a moment he stared transfixed at her lacy black bra, which just barely contained the heaving swell of her perfect breasts.’” Dash made a face.

“C’mon, stud.” Merry tugged on his arm. “I’m getting hot and bothered here.”

“Yeah, okay. Just … ‘heaving swell’? I’m not even into breasts. Horse, y’know? Leg man.”

“Well, then.” Merry unhooked her bra and tossed it aside, atop the discarded hobbles. “Maybe I can change your mind. If not … ” She stretched a long leg toned by hard work and riding across Dash’s lap. Her heel just happened to dislodge the horse blanket from his middle. Dash shook his mane and snorted.

Before he could begin to explore Merry’s heaving swell, a voice called out, “Merry? You in here?”

Bootsteps clomped across the barn floor, straight for the box stall. “Shoot,” Merry hissed.

“I got it.” Dash got up, shifting as he rose. By the time the nosy hand reached the stall, a big chestnut stallion stood there to greet him. “Hey there, big guy,” the man said. “You seen the boss lady?”

The horse shook his head. “Where the hell’d she get to?” the man muttered. “Ah well.” He tromped out again.

Dash shifted back and crouched down beside Merry. She giggled against her own hand pressed hard to her mouth. “Sounds like you’re needed,” he grumbled. “Guess we better wrap this up.”

He reached for the paperback, but Merry kicked it away. “Forget that. Rickets is taking too dang long.”

“Jump and mount?”

“We’re pressed for time here.”

“Fine by me.” Dash eased her down to the floor. He whispered hurriedly against her cheek. “‘Rickets ripped her panties off and knelt between her legs. He muffled her passionate cries with his big hungry mouth.’”

“That ain’t in the book.”

“Is now.”

“I like your version.” Merry hooked her long, strong legs around him and guided his big hungry mouth to her own.

Saturday, March 16, 2013

A Tale of Shape Shifter Synergy

Tongson added another log to the bonfire.  Several pairs of children sat watching him, wide-eyed at the man who’d lumbered up to the group as a bear and morphed before their eyes into the human tossing wood into the fire.

“Life hands us many surprises,” he offered, dusting his hands together.  “Things are not as they appear.  Often our perceptions vary due to our experience or understanding.”  Tongson counted the heads bobbing in understanding.  The older group in the outer circle surrounding the fire pit knew many of his stories and teachings.  Each spring new students from the tribes scattered throughout the region sent their brightest to him for two weeks of lore training.  This year more students showed up than anticipated.

Octavia took all of them under her wing.  No child or student was turned away.  Shifter heritage consisted of oral tales passed down over the ages until a few began recording them.  Not many retained their original message or format.  Tonight’s tale straddled both.   Tongson sat next to Octavia, ruffling their youngest’s hair as she slept in her mother’s arms.

“Many moons ago, wolf and bear prowled the same woods.  Enemies as far back as their memories ran. Neither wanted to engage the other in battle.  Bear feared wolf’s razor sharp teeth and his fast attack.  Wolf feared bear’s height as he stood up, clawing the air and his sharp claws.”  Tongson paused noting the reactions of each child.  He smiled, taking his daughter into his arms.

Octavia leaned forward, taking a lit branch from the fire, she pointed to the sky.  “In the heavens over wolf and bear’s woods, the gods and goddesses watched.  They knew the prayers and thoughts of each.    Fear and ignorance kept the two at bay.  Guesses and supposition replaced logic and understanding.”

Tongson kissed the top of his daughter’s head, settling her into his lap.  “For eons wolf and bear feared each other and battled inflating their misinformation until a mutual enemy entered their woods.  Coyote loved to steal bear’s food and sleep in his den leaving large messes.  Even wolf chased his cousin to no avail.  The trickster pitted the two in fiercer battles against the other.”

Octavia tossed her branch in the fire watching the children jump as sparks hissed and flew toward the sky.  The older ones smiled and cuddle the scared ones reassuring them.  “One day the Gods and Goddesses sent their messenger, eagle to bear and wolf.  He waited high in the tree until the two enemies stood beneath him, snarling and growling, ready to do battle.”

Tongson looked around the group.  Some watched waiting for more of the tale.  Others drooped against each other, yawning and rubbing their eyes.  A hand shot up, waving vigorously.  Tasha and her younger sister loved to tell stories.  Writing them down and illustrating them brought them joy.

“I know how the story ends,” Tasha called out.

Tongson looked to Octavia who nodded as her gaze met his.  It was time to see if the next generation understood their place and task in the universe.

“Go ahead,” Octavia encouraged.  “Please finish the story for us.” She drew her sleeping daughter back into her arms after she stood.

Tasha stood, pulled her top down, smoothing it over her jeans.  She shook her head, licked her lips and spoke.  “Eagle swooped down crying out as he unsheathed his talons.  Flapping his wings, he circled wolf and bear observing how each forgot about fearing the other.  Soon he had them back to back, each defending the other without seeing this.”

“Very good Tasha,” Tongson praised.  “Who knows what happened next?”

Roccio rose.  His long black hair hid his face until he tucked several strands behind each ear.  “Eagle kept circling tighter until bear and wolf touched. Neither worried about their fear of the other. They fought together.  On his last swoop, eagle called out his message.  Learn from each other.  Respect your differences and live in harmony with all.”

Tongson threw up his hands as he stood.  “Yes, even now this message is important.  Thank you Tasha and Roccio.”

Octavia tossed back her head and screeched.  Like calls echoed from the dark woods close by.  “Each of us is unique.  Like the snowflake, no two are alike.  Each brings beauty and harmony.  Let us emulate that as we learn about each other and respect our differences for untied we are stronger than alone.”


Happy Weekend Gang!

What a lovely tale Tongson and Octavia used to teach about tolerance, understanding, and respect.  If more of this happened in the world, what a peaceful place earth would be.  

Spring is in the air.  Chill lingers with touches of snow flakes that dance through the air and melt as they touch the warm ground.  Be careful as the weather changes.  Keep warm, dry, and healthy.  While you're at it share a good book or two with your spice and loves.  I know I will be!