Tuesday, March 12, 2013
From the shadowed corner of the shifter biker bar...
Tuesday howls and yowls, shapeshifter lovers.
Good news on the editing front for HER MIDNIGHT STARDUST COWBOYS. Right now, I'm down to the last chapter and a half. Then, the challenge will be formatting.
Hey, who knows, maybe miracles will occur, and all will go smoothly. An Indie author can dream, anyway.
Although, I am looking forward... actually, jumping up and down ecstatically... to finally offering a ShapeShifter Presents Erotic Romance Novel. 'Cause, I loved penning this menage love story. And, I love our shapeshifter and supernatural cast of characters here in the Peak.
Sadly, this year, we're not part of a St. Paddy's Day blog hop. So, here's wishing you a Happy Wearin' of the Green!
So, kudos to Pat on her flash scene from yesterday. But, what happens after ex-Mayor Link earns the title of Deep Throat?
From the shadowed corner of the shifter biker bar...
From the shadowed corner of the shifter biker bar, Zryker observed the drunken, high-spirited craziness. Amused in a twisty bent way by the banana-dildo contest he'd just witnessed, Zryker settled back, while telling his cock to quit imitating a big banana. It wasn't getting un-peeled anytime soon.
Not with his current, big-reward arrangement. Recover the stolen goods, and return to the desperate owner with no fuss, no muss. And no prosecution of the thief.
Therein, lay the obstacle. The unidentified thief had proven so elusive, the trail so diabolically serpentine, Zryker was down to one possible lead. Rosa Terranova had bolted fast from Amarillo, like the snake roundup hunters were about to grab her tail and bag her.
He knew for certain she hadn't committed the crime, given her whereabouts could be accounted for -- some sort of ebook expo. Zryker happened to be present in the hole-in-the-wall snake shifter hangout, when Rosa had hip-rolling slithered inside -- shortly after the heist.
Liking her style, Zryker had surreptitiously watched Rosa snack on mice bonbons, her nose buried in her e-reader. He knew her by reputation, given the number of husbands she'd disposed of... not that he blamed her.
One or all of her ex-husbands could have creepy-crawled inside the mansion... and, well, hell hoot 'n holler... swallowed the owner's priceless heirloom collection... then shapeshifted to human, and answered the call of nature.
Zryker propped his boot on the opposite chair, and coiled his human fingers around his tall warm glass of southwest pinon ale. He downed a few swallows while keeping a covert eye on that sexy sinuous babe, Ms. Sugah, herself.
He also waited to see what would happen now that the ex-mayor had earned the dubious title of Deep Throat. Talbot's Peak was one kickin' hoot of a town, as he'd discovered since arriving a couple of weeks ago.
After tracking Rosa to her new position with the library, Zryker had soon discovered she wasn't talking about nothin' nohow, when it came to Amarillo, and her past. No matter his smooth charmin' approach. And not even for a price. A big price.
Either someone had her damn good and scared. Or she was protecting the son of a viper. Or... various scenarios flashed through his mind as he quaffed his ale.
Zryker hadn't been able to get a Spock-like mind-hold on Ms. Sugah either. Her mental shields had slammed him out. But, now that she'd been drinking freely, his chances just might be improved.
If he could get her talking, or slip his way inside her mind... Zryker sure didn't want to use his rattler fangs on her... numb her a bit, then mind-lock with her.
He did own some honor, despite being a real sidewinder. Zryker grinned to himself, and drained his ale. Besides, he owned a certain fondness for Rosa, more for her flamboyant personality than wanting his lusty snake between her thighs. Not that he wouldn't oblige if...
Zryker eyed Lamar's swishy undulating approach. So far, he'd stayed down range of the boa constrictor, but seemingly his luck had run its course on that front.
“Hola, stranger. Don't we have some scales in common?” Lamar seated himself without ceremony, and offered his hand.
"Scales, right. But you squeeze and I poison." Zryker gripped his hand, careful not to make it a strength contest. "Lamar, isn't it? Yeah, I'm new in town. Zryker is the handle. Rattlesnake is the species."
"Noticed you eyeing the slinky, banana-sucking queen of the hour. Just made Ms. Rosa's acquaintance myself. You two have a romantic history, a love unrequited thing?"
"Nope. She has some info I need. Think of me as a private dick." Zryker figured there was no point in saying anything else.
"But not a dick interested in going down on my dick, if I'm reading your preference right, chico."
"You're reading me right, Balboa. You're also cramping my style...at the moment."
"He cramps everybody's style." The wolf shifter gave Zryker an apologetic grin. "Come on, I'm getting lonely... drinking alone. Rufus has been eyeing my ass..."
"Got the message, lover." Lamar uncoiled smoothly, springing from his chair. "Later, private dick."
Zryker grinned widely instead of answering. He stilled as ripples of awareness rolled over his skin and his inner scales.
At first, he couldn't determine if an enemy stalked him... or, oh holy ice water, not her.
"Diamondback scum," the woman's rich melodic voice cursed him. As well it should.
At least, from her scorned point of view. Even though, she'd been barely sixteen at the time. And he'd left because he was a gentleman, when it came to not taking advantage of a lady.
"Santoza, fancy meeting you here in a bad girl's bar. What would your family say?"
"Hiss, hiss, snake boy. Get ready to rumble and make like a caduceus. I'm about to twist the life out of that devil-horny hide of yours."
"Wanna play Twister, do you, babe? I've got the perfect Garden of Eden, if you're..."
From the corner of his eye, Zryker watched her launch at him like an enraged cobra. Okay, granted, she was a cobra shapeshifter.
She hit him full on, and Zryker wrapped his arms around her tight. The chair slid against the wall, then creaked loudly as she writhed with a fury that caught him off guard.
Freeing one arm, she pummeled him with her fist while trying to wind around him, and choke off his air. The chair rocked precariously.
When her undulating attack didn't cease, one leg of the chair buckled under their weight. They crashed to floor, rolling and twining in the spilled beer, on top of the peanut shells.
"It must be a lover's spat," Zryker heard Lamar shout like a circus ringmaster. "Place your bets here, chicas and chicos. Does she win? Or does he?"
~ Have a Magickal Week and St. Patrick's Day ~
Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance ~