Tuesday, April 30, 2013

The Resurrection of Vesuvius, a Bad-tempered Grizzly

Tuesday howls and yowls, shapeshifter lovers.

Spring has been a strange animal in my neck of the woods. And here we are at the end of April.

So, I'm busy revising RED LIONESS TAMED for Indie release, and hoping the waters will stay calm enough to finish.

Last week, I began a flash scene based on Pat Cunningham's Monday flash, BAMF. My fae wolf heroine, Syressa, just had to use her power to save the bear, who wasn't ready to leave this mortal realm. I hope you enjoy this feel good little scene.

To start, here's the last two paragraphs of Resurrection, a Fae Wolf's Work Is Never Done.
The moment Sergei slipped into the forest as white tiger, Syressa floated to the ground. She crept silently toward Vesuvius at first, only waiting for Sergei to move out of range.

Summoning her healing force, she ran toward Vesuvius.


The Resurrection of Vesuvius, a Bad-tempered Grizzly

Syressa dropped to her knees, and placed her palms as close to the grizzly bear's heart as she could. Her power surged through her, hot, sparking like electricity, then bursting from her hands as miniature bolts of lightning.

Gradually, the bear's life force filled him again. Syressa closed her eyes, feeling her energy hum through his bloodstream.

She followed the healing frequencies, making certain he was being totally rejuvenated. Surprised by the thread-sized obstacle inside him, she nearly jerked one of her hands away.

"Chipped," she murmured. "Why have you been chipped, Vesuvius?"

Syressa frowned, well knowing this wasn't the same type used on pets. She'd extracted so many of that cancer-causing tech, she'd lost count over the years.

"You're not resurrecting him, are you?" a tiny feminine voice demanded.

From the corner of her eye, Syressa spied the wee fae, a flower keeper adorned in rose pink and spring green garments. The tiny being regarded her with an impudent expression, one itsy bitsy fist planted on her thrust hip.

"You should know better, since your one of us. Don't you think?" The little fae's eyes glowed, transmuting the air around her to an emerald color. "That giant, bellowing, stinky beast is nothing but nasty-tempered trouble. For all of us!"

"Too late now," Syressa drily offered.  Vesuvius shuddered a bit beneath her hands, coming to life, but still not conscious.

"You wouldn't believe the human-trash traffic we get here. All to fight this bear." When Syressa raised a brow, the little fae continued. "You know, test your might against the big bad grizzly. Except, when Vesuvius loses to these chimera-clone creeps, they never finish him off. Put him out of his misery. And our misery."

Syressa's head spun, and her eyes widened at how Vesuvius had been cruelly used. She witnessed the terrible scene before her mind's eye "Super soldiers. Is that what you're talking about?"

"Super duper pooper, who cares? All I know is that the bear is more angry and miserable than before. And we pay for his raging outbursts. No one can get near the water. Now, you're 'saving' him with your magick," the little fae snidely sang.

"They're baiting him into fighting them, right?" Syressa asked to increase her own psychic 'knowing'.

She focused, vibrationally surrounding the nano-made fiber at the base of Vesuvius's neck. "Never mind. I've found the problem."

"What? The evil synthetic parasite in his neck. We all know about that. What does it matter?" Frustrated, livid, the little fae's wings flapped lifting her off the ground. "No one can remove it. That would kill him."

"Yes...it would," Syressa murmured, as she gently flowed her force severing each  connection. At the same time, she drained the brain-controlling fiber of its bio energy.

"He's waking up," the little fae announced, her tone sour yet with a measure of hope.

"Got it," Syressa triumphed moments later. She vaporized the nana-chip sending its harmless remains into the ethers.

"You know they'll come looking for him." The little fae winged higher, hovering before Syressa's face. "They'll know he isn't dead."

"I'm Syressa. Do you have a name?"

After a pause, the little fae flew backward a few feet. She gave her long silky blonde hair a shake. "Roselle, if you must know, wolf."

Before Syressa could respond, Vesuvius rumbled loudly. He grunted several times with the effort of raising his head, and his entire body shook.

Standing, Syressa removed her hands from the bear's thick bristly fur. She backed away to give him room.

Vesuvius rolled onto his belly attempting to get his bearings, but she knew his vision was foggy. "You're okay," she crooned. "Take your time. I'm here. I'll take care of you."

"He can't stay here," Roselle trilled in her high voice, as she floated farther away, twinkling the air around her.

"No, that wouldn't be a good idea, would it, Vesuvius? How about coming with me?"

With a big ole shake of his head, and a small sharp bellow, the grizzly gained his feet. He wobbled but kept standing.

Long moments later, he eyed her. "Yes, I took the thorn out of your paw," she teased, and bent toward him. "You're free. They can't control you anymore. You don't have to fight everyone. Not that you can't be big and tough like a bear should...okay, you understand."

Syressa watched a grin slowly spread across the grizzly's huge furry mug. That is, as much as a bear could smile.

He ambled toward her, and Syressa swung beside him, burying her hand in his fur. "I have some more seeds to spread. Then we'll go home."


Wishing you shapeshifting love on the wild side… 


Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance ~

Monday, April 29, 2013

Can I Get An Amen

The Reverend Horton Kirkpatrick gazed upon tonight’s gathering in the tent revival meeting and found it good. Packed to the canvas walls, which would mean a hefty take at the passing of the plate. Best of all, this remote postage stamp of a Montana town had probably never heard the stories of Reverend Horndog or the folks who’d run him out of places bigger than this. He ought to rake in plenty of beer and blow before the rumors started.

The men were the usual scruffy sort he expected out here in God’s Armpit, but the women were fine as could be. Especially that lovely number in the front row with the ample attributes and the thick coils of hair the sandy brown color of a lonely desert at sundown. Her lengthy legs ended in a pair of snakeskin cowboys boots. She must have a rich sugar daddy who kept her in shoes. He’d be separating her from her allowance soon, and from Daddy too if he could swing it.

Already the crowd was getting antsy. They sounded, and smelled, like a petting zoo. Horton knew the stench from experience. This religious con was a much sweeter scam, and usually smelled a lot fresher.

He raised his hands. “Brothers and sisters. God bids you all welcome to His home.”

“God lives in a tent?” somebody said loudly. A titter of snarky laughter ran through the congregation.

“You’d think He’d live better when He’s on the road,” somebody else remarked. “A Winnebago or something.”

“God lives in our hearts,” Rev. Horton proclaimed, “but sometimes we shut the door and forget—”

“Which god?” the Winnebago booster asked. “We got a ton around here.”

“There is only one God, and he is—”

“Vishnu? The tigers outside of town worship him, and you should see the palace they live in. Maybe we should switch.”

“Yeah, I hear ya. We pray to Chaos, but that only makes things worse. More interesting, though.”

“There is only one God,” Horton boomed, “and He has sent me to bring you His word. Are you ready to receive the word of the Lord?”

“I’m ready to eat,” a man in the back called out. “Where’s the refreshments?”

Horton was taken aback. “Excuse me?”

“The food.” The man waved one of the flyers Horton had tacked up around town this morning. “It says we get refreshments.”

“Yeah,” Winnebago chimed in. “Pastor Tim puts out meat and veggie trays. He lets us snack during the sermon.”

“I bring the refreshment of the Lord’s word and the blessings of the holy spirit. If you welcome the Lord into your life, He will bring you all the sustenance you require.”

“We’re not gonna get fed,” the man in the back translated. “Scat,” Winnebago said.

He was losing them. There went his full pockets. The woman in the snakeskin boots stretched out her glorious legs and made as if to rise. There went his full something else.

Time to pull out the big guns.

Horton usually saved the demonstration until later in the sermon, once he had the suckers all worked up and ready to believe, but desperate times, et cetera. He flung open the crate atop his makeshift altar and pulled out two writhing, thick-bodied serpents. They were only harmless black snakes, less threatening than a can of hairspray, but the yokels wouldn’t know that. Harry put up a half-hearted show of resistance. Sally, who hated the crate, hissed and squeezed his bicep.

Horton held the feisty Sally high for the benefit of his audience. “Behold the power of the Lord! Such is my faith that I may handle these venomous creatures without fear, for God will not allow those who believe in Him to—”

“Shoot,” the woman in the boots snorted. “They ain’t even poisonous. Where I come from, the preachers handle rattlers fresh caught off the desert. Not for too long, though. We lose more preachers that way.”

“Are they the refreshments?” the man in the back asked hopefully.

“Piss on this,” Winnebago announced. “Let’s go to Pizza Hut. They’re having a special on Meat Lovers’.”

Okay, then. Divine retribution time. “Turn not away from the word of God,” he threatened, “lest you suffer His fearsome wrath. For the Lord is a jealous god.”

As if on cue, the walls of the tent suddenly rippled, as if blasted by a high wind. A mighty thupping sound accompanied the wind, like helicopter rotors, or the crack of enormous wings.

In an instant the entire congregation went silent. Boot Woman stared about with a look of consternation on her face. She wasn’t the only one. Harry and Sally suddenly started twisting in Horton’s grip, in a desperate bid to escape.

“Damn,” Winnebago said. “He’s good.”

Oh shit, Horton thought. That better not be a tornado. He hadn’t even passed the plate yet.

He lifted his snakes high over his head. Sally’s tail whipped at his face, just barely missing his cheek. “Behold the power of God!”

A man knocked the flap aside and strode into the tent. “Where is the spokesman for God?” he demanded, in a voice that shook the walls even worse than the wind had.

 “I never touched your wife,” Horton bleated automatically.

The man stared at him. He must have been in a rush to attend the service, because all he had on was a loincloth. His body, bronze as an Aztec warrior’s, sported muscles Horton had only read about. Hair the color and sheen of an obsidian blade fell to his near-naked butt. “You are the priest of the Serpent God?”

“Uh … whuh?”

The man straightened. “I am Itzcoatl, son of the Feathered Serpent. I have seen your announcements in town.” He held up a flyer and pointed to the photo of Horton and his reptilian assistants. “You are a priest of the Serpent God. You will serve me in this capacity.”

Oh, right. The snakes. Easy for a nutcase to get the wrong idea. “Look, buddy, I’m trying to conduct a service here. We can talk after the meeting.”

“Of course. You may spread the word of my magnificence. You mammals! Heed the word of this my priest. You stand in the presence of the divine!”

The psycho lifted his arms. The wind sprang up again, deafening and pummeling within the confines of the tent. Harry and Sally were hissing like a pair of leaky tires on Truckasaurus. So was the woman in the boots.

Horton blinked. He would have rubbed his eyes if he weren’t holding the snakes. The man’s shadow, filling the wall of the tent behind him, resembled an enormous snake with feathered wings.

What the hell kind of freaky town had he stumbled into?

Ask and ye shall receive …

One minute Horton was standing before a tent full people and one crazy mofo. The next he was back in the petting zoo. At least, that’s what it looked and sounded like. The entire tent was crammed to the walls with barking, yelping animals. Wolves and coyotes mostly, but Horton’s reeling brain catalogued foxes, beavers, bobcats, rabbits, and a bull elk complete with a massive rack. The rack ripped a hole in the tent and the elk bounded through. The rest of the congregation plowed out the hole in its wake, leaving torn rags of clothing behind.

Somewhere in the middle of this he lost his grip on Harry and Sally. They whipped beneath the rear of the tent to freedom. The woman in the boots followed suit.

So also, with little thought and no regrets, did Horton.

In the field behind the tent sat his camper. Horton ducked behind it. The wind tore at his clothes and roared in his ears. The field was alive with fleeing beasts. They ran for the trees at full speed. Meanwhile, the tent—

“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph,” Horton moaned as the roof of the tent was torn asunder. A gigantic winged snake, black and glittering, flapped through the roof and took off in pursuit of its erstwhile worshippers. Or perhaps sacrifices, at this point.

Horton had enough experience to pick the exact right moment when to get the hell out of town. Now was that time.

He ripped open the camper’s door, climbed inside, and froze. The first thing he noticed was the cage where he kept the rats for his snakes. It was empty. The woman in the snakeskin boots sat at his mini kitchen table. Horton was just in time to watch a pink, hairless tail slide between her lips.

She smacked those lips and grinned at him. “Found the refreshments,” she said. “Plump and juicy. Just the way I like ‘em.”

Horton fell backward out the door. He’d barely hit the ground before he scrambled up and started running. Direction didn’t really matter, as long as it was Away.

So ended Horton Kirkpatrick’s tenure as a revivalist preacher and his association with God. He took from his experience the lessons that no one should ever go anywhere near Montana, and God was a son of a bitch.

# # #

Rosa waited for the ruckus to die down, and for her dinner to settle. Man wasn’t much of a Bible thumper, but he kept some damn tasty rats, she’d give him that. But dang it! Of all the places for an actual snake god to turn up. Her being an actual snake, she wasn’t too keen on anyone keeping close tabs on her whereabouts, let alone a damn god.

She opened the camper door and hopped down, and discovered her shitty day wasn’t quite over yet. The snake god stood before her. He beamed a smile full of white teeth at her. “Daughter.”

Rosa hissed in a breath. Don’t show fear. You do, you’ll get swallowed. “ No offense there, sugah, but you ain’t the real Quetzalcoatl.”

“No. I am his son, the Obsidian Serpent. I have risen to take control of this mammal-infested planet in my father’s name.”

“Well, you ain’t gonna be doing it with that ape as your priest. He done lit a shuck for parts unknown.” She looked Itzcoatl up and down. Shoot, that was one fine hunk of man-flesh, god or no. Might be worth the risk of getting swallowed. “If you’re a god, you must know what I am. Seeing as how we’re both serpents and all … ”

“I have already committed to my divine mate, and see no need for concubines. You may serve as a handmaiden. My wife deserves a staff.”

“I was thinking more along the lines of priestess, seeing as how the position just opened up.” Who knew, there might be some profit in this. Specifically, continued survival. That always topped out Rosa’s ledger. And wherever a god went, there were bound to be spoils. You just had to stay intact long enough to enjoy ‘em.

Rosa executed a limber bow. It even looked fairly genuine. “All hail the mighty Feathered Serpent.”

Sunday, April 28, 2013

SNEAK PEEK SUNDAY: Her Midnight Stardust Cowboys ~ Chapter One

Her Midnight Stardust Cowboys

Chapter One: 

Enchanted, in a semi-trance, Sherilyn stared...

Enchanted, in a semi-trance, Sherilyn stared at the graphically gorgeous poster advertising a New Year's Eve celebration at the Pleasure Club. The large poster looked out of place hanging next to the community board, just inside the small-town, somewhat odd grocery store in Talbot's Peak, Montana.

"It's the grand opening of the Midnight Stardust, Dante's new supperclub. Are you thinking of going?" Brenda chattily asked, as she rang up Sherilyn's purchases.

"Ladies are free like it says. Dante himself hung the poster. He's such a gentleman," Brenda trilled like a teenager with a crush.

"He made a point of telling me there will be plenty of dance partners," she added.

"Is that right?" Sherilyn murmured, unable to force her gaze away from the oh-so elegant couple dancing beneath a galaxy of sparkling stars.

The forties era, swanky scene struck her as magical, and was everything she'd been craving of late. But that was not to be. Not for her.

For more Sunday Sneak Peaks 

Wishing you shapeshifting love on the wild side… 


Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance 

Friday, April 26, 2013

He's Got A Room For That...

Ziva tilted the office chair back and kicked her bitch boots up to the desk.  She tapped the pencil to her lips and between the two couldn’t help but remember the wake up spank she’d given Nick just this morning.

Her man was a cover kicker and always awoke on his stomach, bare-assed and ready to go.  With the old-time wooden ruler she kept tucked under the mattress on her side of the bed Ziva paddled his tush to a beautiful red glow, then rolled him over and rode him to a happy good morning for her.  She’d even gotten him to admit that she was the bitch in charge today…thus the boots, a visual reminder to him that tonight she would once again make merry  with his body.

Theirs was a game they played daily…alpha for a day.  Typically, two alphas did not a pair make, but they’d found a way.

“Sooo, Z, did you hear about Manscaped Mike?”

“Oh shite, Penelope, please tell me they are not calling him that around town.”

“No-no, that was just me.  I hear when they found him frolicking in the boxes; they also caught him without a stitch on and honey I don’t mean his clothes.”

 “Hell, Penelope, you don’t have a stitch on either.  You haven’t since high school.” Ziva watched her friends smirk get bigger and more lascivious.

Their weekly visits to Wanda’s spa for toning and tidying made sure their partners enjoyed a soft smooth palette while each lady reaped the benefits of their lover’s artful tongues.

“Yes, well the difference is that he’s a cat.  Generally, they don’t like to be shaved.”

Ziva moved her feet to the floor and as discreetly as possible arranged herself on the chair to ease the sudden ache between her legs.  She was nearing her weekly appointment, but sometimes she missed the feel of a blade on her skin.  Perhaps that would be Nick’s duty tonight.

The wax jobs at Wanda’s were excellent and done with as much anonymity as you wanted though honestly it was hard to be anonymous when you relaxed on a table, feet in the stirrups while another worked you over with hot wax and strips of cloth.  The rooms were calm, comfortable and totally asexual.  If, of course, waxing was your sexual thing, then there was a room for that as well.

“You know, doesn’t Dante have a room for kinks of the cardboard kind?” Ziva wondered out loud.

“Honey, if he doesn’t already, he’ll find one…this for you or Manscaped?”

“Lupa above, Penelope, you’ve gotta stop calling him that.  I’ll never be able to look at him without thinking of his deforestation.”

“Hey, it makes the trees look bigger.”

Ziva threw her pencil at the colorful admin chuckling by the door. “Go away; I’ve got an article to write.”

“’Kay.  Come to think of it, I do have an appointment to set up.”

“Yeah, what’s that?”

“Oh, a play date for Daniel, I think.  He and Mikey would have some fun in that cardboard room.”

Penelope winked and stepped back into the hall.  “By the way, what’s the title of your article…I need something to torment your lover with today.”

“You’re lucky Nick likes you, Pen…”

“He’d crash and burn without me here at the gazette…at least that’s what I tell myself.  So, title?”

Ziva looked at the screen again, then tilted her head back and smiled at her friend and cohort in crime, “I’m thinking, Dante, He’s got a room for that.

“Perfect Z, just bloody perfect!”

 May whatever 'scaping you prefer be done just the way you like it!  ~wicked grinz~


Wednesday, April 24, 2013

A box cat called desire

Mike saw it just sitting there, taunting him. He was trying to break himself of the nasty habit. He thought he had been making real progress. Apparently not.

The social stigma alone might have cured him if he wasn't such a loner. A few weeks ago, Barbie had caught him indulging in his sick addiction back behind the furniture store. Then the witch went and told everyone what he'd been doing. Ok, so she wasn’t actually a witch—a witch would have known what she was seeing and not said a word to a store full of mundanes.

Besides, it wasn't like he had been hurting anyone. Lots of cats liked to hang out in cardboard boxes. Even humans did it. There was just something about an empty box—if he saw one, he had to climb in it, even if it wasn't big enough for him.

The furniture place always had big enough boxes after they received a delivery.

Barbie had caught him in his cat form while he was climbing in and out of the plethora of boxes left out after a shipment of tables. He could almost forgive her for shutting him inside one. There was also something about seeing a cat in a huge box that made you want to shut them in. But by the time he shifted back to human form and got himself out, she had brought an audience to "come check out the funny-looking mountain lion playing in the box pile like a house cat." And there he had stood, butt-ass naked in the box Barbie swore she’d shut a cat in.

It was just a matter of time before Dante or one of the other town elders came to pay him a visit, he just knew it. He eyed the box his new printer had come in and resolved to tear it up, get rid of the temptation. But then again... If he was going to die a painful, embarrassing death for accidentally revealing himself to non-shifters, he might as well enjoy one last romp in the land of cardboard heaven.

Mike looked around. This was his own living room. No one would see him if he slipped his skin and hopped in it, right? He smiled and began shucking his jeans.

Tuesday, April 23, 2013

Resurrection, a Fae Wolf's Work Is Never Done

Tuesday howls and yowls, shapeshifter lovers.

A big howling thanks to the EARTH DAY hoppers for their comments, and for stopping by during the LOVE A TREE, READ AN EBOOK blog hop.

Okay, I am about to doze off, so my flash scene will have to be polished up a bit, and  continued next week. It's been a long, way too busy-busy day.


Resurrection, a Fae Wolf's Work Is Never Done

Syressa hummed along with the harmonies of nature as she slowly flew in a circle above the mountain clearing. She nourished the native berry seeds with her love vibes, then sowed them with abandon.

There would be enough berries for all to feast on, for everyone and every animal who ventured this way. Hearing a thunderous bellow, then a roar of outrage, Syressa halted her flight.

Her heart thumped, and she hovered, her fae wings flapping only enough to keep her aloft. She listened to what could only be a huge male Grizzly bear challenge the beast invading his territory.

Immediately, her inner wolfess scented the tiger shapeshifter, and she heard the deadly charge, his leaping attack. Syressa winged swiftly toward the life-and-death battle now disturbing what had been a serene day.

"Oh no!" she burst out quietly, even as she grabbed onto a high tree branch, and clung. Instinctively, she positioned herself, hiding from the victor.

Sergei, the Siberian white tiger. Syressa recognized him only because she'd scouted out Talbot's Peak, and spoke with Gypsy Red Wolf, before deciding to make her home in the forest close to the Pleasure Club.

Now...to her great sadness, the Grizzly lay in a distorted heap, his life force draining fast. Yet, the bear's will to live remained strong, and he hung on with all the might of his grand ferocious being.

She could do nothing to help him yet. Her magick would activate against Sergei, not to stun, but to slay. Because the madness to kill still gripped him.

Now Sergei waited, hidden, watching for more prey. Closing her eyes, Syressa concentrated slipping a tiny stream of energy inside the Grizzly. Only enough to help him live, and hopefully not be detected by the assassin.

Oh yeah, she could read Sergei's frequencies now, clear as the crystals that lived in her home.  It was why Syressa didn't intervene when the tigress shifter and her cougar protector arrived, discovering the bear who looked dead.

So, the Grizzly was called Vesuvius. That certainly fit.

She knew from her fae sense that the woman and man were Sergei's targets, but not for an assassination. Not yet, anyway.

The moment Sergei slipped into the forest as white tiger, Syressa floated to the ground. She crept silently toward Vesuvius at first, only waiting for Sergei to move out of range.

Summoning her healing force, she ran toward Vesuvius.


Wishing you shapeshifting love on the wild side… 


Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance ~

Monday, April 22, 2013


I came up dry again this week, so here's a bit from Rick and Bari's story. They've just discovered they're not the only folks -- or the most dangerous -- hiding out on Rick's mountain.

# # #

Nilambari slipped her tiger’s body noiselessly through the underbrush. After weeks in Rick’s company, she was finally getting the hang of maneuvering through this strange woodland environment. The high altitude and chilly temperatures had taken some getting used to, but she found she liked it more than her native jungle. For one thing, there were no other tigers. That alone won it high marks.

Up ahead, Rick had come to a sudden stop and was cautiously testing the air. Instantly Nilambari dropped her belly to the ground and tried to blend into the brush. One drawback to Montana: its pine tree greens and tawny grasses hadn’t been designed to hide a tiger. She wouldn’t have seen Rick at all if he hadn't stuck his muzzle into the breeze.

Was it Ravi again? Would he never stop hunting her? She snarled irritably. Let him find another bride, so she could finally stop looking over her shoulder.

She crept to Rick’s side, with a single low whuff to warn him. He rumbled acknowledgement without looking back at her. His attention was fixed on something in the valley below, near the deep creek they’d been heading for. Rick had promised to teach her how to fish. Nilambari loved the water, like all tigers. Had Ravi’s minions set a trap?

Easing her nose just above the tall grass, Nilambari took a long sniff. No taste of tiger in the air. Instead she smelled a rough, earthy scent, mingled with the reek of carrion and blood. She’d known similar scents, and they weren’t a tiger’s.

Rick had fixed his stare to a huge brownish lump some yards from the water. She sighed her relief. Was that all? She started down the slope.

“Whoa!” Nilambari jumped in surprise, both from his voice and his hand in the fur on her shoulder. Rick had shifted to human form, but remained crouched low to the ground. “Where are you going?”

She also shifted for speech. “It’s only a bear.”

He shook his head. “There’s no ‘only’ about a grizzly, sugar-stripes. Even the Yakuza don’t mess with them. Especially that one.” He lifted his head above the grass for a careful, lengthy stare. “Yep, that’s old Vesuvius. The coyotes nicknamed him that because he’s liable to erupt without warning.”

Nilambari studied the motionless lump. “He appears to be sleeping.” She sniffed again. That blood scent made her uneasy. “Perhaps he’s recently fed. I hope he didn’t eat all the fish.”

“He wouldn’t doze off right in the open like that,” Rick muttered. “He’s too canny for that. Something’s effed up here. Stay put.”

Rick shifted back to mountain lion and threaded his way down the slope in a wide spiral, edging ever closer to the bear. Nilambari snorted. Stay put, while he faced a bear on his own? Her tiger form outweighed his mountain lion. In America she-cats faced danger at the sides of their mates. Mrs. McMahon had told her that. She’d married a carnivore, so she must know what she was talking about.

With a shiver of skin and muscle Nilambari became a tiger again. She stalked her way down the slope toward the bear, in a more direct line than Rick’s circuitous route.

Nevertheless he reached the bear before she did. It made no move or sound at his approach, and Nilambari quickly realized why. As she drew nearer the ugly gashes in the animal’s neck and flank became apparent. Vesuvius had vented his last eruption.

Rick had already turned human. Nilambari rose up on two legs and walked upright the rest of the way. “It’s dead?”

“Yeah.” His mouth was hard, his eyes thin and troubled. He swept his stare around the immediate area, the crushed grass, the torn-up earth, the scattered blood and hair. “Looks like he ran into something ornerier than he was.”

Her throat had gone dry. Up close, the bear was larger than those she’d known in India. The beast was huge. So were its paws, and the vicious claws that tipped them. Even a tiger would be hard-pressed to defend itself against so much well-armed muscle.

She swallowed hard. “Tigers?”

“I can’t tell for sure. The scent’s disguised. Whatever it was, it was singular. He was headed for the water, coming from the north. Looks like Vesuvius charged him.” Rick poked gingerly at a particularly nasty gash in the bear’s neck. “I don’t think he was looking for a fight, but he sure gave a helluva—wait a minute. This shouldn’t be like … holy scat.”

The tone of his voice set her hackled on edge. “What is it?”

“I don’t believe this. Look at how his head’s lying here. It could be a tiger—there’s plenty of claw marks, but that isn’t what killed him. Whatever tussled with this old boy turned human and got a chokehold on him. This bear’s neck was snapped.”

He backed away from the bear. His eyes scanned the slopes, the trees. “How many tigers do you know are tough enough to take on a quarter-ton of rampaging grizzly bare-handed? No pun intended.”

“None,” she said shakily. She wasn’t laughing, and neither was Rick. The Yakuza were trained fighters, but this—Yakuza training didn’t prepare one for battling bears in the wild. This had been accomplished by a force of nature.

There had been whispered tales back home of those in Shere’s Khan entourage. A personal killer, a monster of a tiger, white and cold as Siberian snows. It was said he was relentless, and that he never failed.

Surely Ravi had given up. Surely he would not have gone so far …

In a panic she looked at Rick, so strong and supple and wise in the ways of his mountain, but so much smaller than a tiger. “We need to go. Now. Quickly.”

“Yeah.” With a final study of the story told in the twisted earth, Rick shifted to cat and bounded off through the grass. The tigress followed, silent and afraid.

# # #

Far above, concealed by the drooping boughs of firs, Sergei watched the cats approach the bear and read the signs of the fight. As he watched, he checked the scrapes on his shoulder and the bandaged rent on his thigh. Both had stopped bleeding, but it wouldn’t hurt to change the dressings again before he moved on.

He’d had no quarrel with the bear. He thought he’d given it a wide enough berth, but the beast had attacked him anyway, leaving him no choice. In the end the fight had proven fortunate. In death the bear had made excellent bait. And look what it had drawn in.

“So you’ve found a protector,” he murmured, his icy blue eyes following the tigress. He shot his glance ahead of her, to the mountain lion. The native cat would be small as a cub beside his Siberian tiger form. Not much protection there.

They’d come from high up on the northwestern slope. The lion must have a den up there. Time to start digging.

Sergei rose leisurely, ignoring the twinge of his wounds. “You fought well,” he addressed the bear. “I thank you.” Seconds later a white tiger sauntered into the brush, instantly lost among the shadows.

Friday, April 19, 2013

Howls! Happy Earth Day - Blog Hop

Pic from romance author, Rebecca Gillan


Tongson stirred the fire.  Sparks flew in different directions.  Several rose, glowing red against the dark sky as though they mingled with the diamonds of the heavens.  Octavia’s soft voice reached him from their tent where she sang their daughter to sleep.  Mickey and Nighthawk remained back at the compound with Tomas and the other children.

Winter had finally left the high country and sprigs of green broke through the patches of dirt claiming their place amongst the snow refusing to melt.  Even though the air was cool and a frost would cover the ground in places before morning, Tongson welcomed the night away.  Camped out safe within the clearing close to their home allowed he and Octavia time alone.  Time to reconnect and allow their passion to renew privately away from the hustle and bustle their city life and large combined family unit needed.  Earth Day had become their unofficial anniversary.

Tongson smiled as he heard the zipper on the tent open.  Octavia would join him.  He moved toward the rolled up sleeping bag close to the fire.  As he untied the straps, he looked up.  A flash of green light, then red, and other colors appeared and vanished, then pulsed through the sky again.  The time had begun.

Octavia moved toward the fire.  The chill added a sensual lull to the clear sky and with it the kaleidoscope of colors that appeared and lingered longer with each burst of color until more of the sky glowed and pulsed with energy.  She inhaled deeply.  The scent of wet ground mixed with pine filled her nostrils.  If she turned her head toward the south, hints of flowers tickled her nose and disappeared.  Daffodils and other wildflowers dotted the trail as they hiked their way through the woods earlier in the afternoon.  From the East, the sky grew darker and cold iced its way making its presence felt even though the warmth of the west setting sun lingered for a short time as twilight claimed the rest of the sky.

Tongson stood and shook out the double sleeping bag.  As he bent to unzip it, he smiled.  Neither of them would feel the chill after a while.  The thick Sherpa lined bag would embrace them as they cuddled each other nude.  Flesh to flesh, with him buried deep within Octavia.  Slowly they would ride from crest to crest of passion until their shared mutual orgasm left them both replete and sated.  Passion fed upon itself.

“I can read and feel the heat rolling off you from here.”  Octavia’s voice wrapped herself around him and teased his libido into a hotter level.

“Come here love,” Tongson voiced, holding out his hand as his other reach for the belt of his robe.   Slowly the knot untied as the tie slide through his hand.  His eyes met Octavia’s.  Their glow mirrored his passion.  Desire rose higher and hotter deep within his groin.  His cock thickened and lengthened.  He hunched his shoulders and worked his arm free from the robe.

Octavia took his hand as her other hand mimicked his as she undid her robe.  Soon they faced each other as natural as their surroundings.  Tongson slide his hand up Octavia’s arm until he reached her shoulder.  Trailing his fingers downward, he dragged his short nails around and close to her taut nipples.

She moved closer until her arm easily slid around his waist and they stood a breath apart.  Want and need welled up and flooded out of each mixing until neither could tell where one began and the other stopped.  Nor did they care.  Their mouths met.  Lips part and tongues sought each other mingling in the age old dance of chase and retreat until bodies pressed tightly against each other.

Tongson kicked their discarded robes aside before he sank to his knees upon the open sleeping bag.  He leaned forward and nipped his way toward Octavia’s navel.  He soothed the flesh he worried with a kiss and a lick.  Lower his hands roved until he reached the apex of her thighs.  He parted her lips and inhaled deeply.  Her fragrance filled his nostrils and teased his taste buds. Her essence awaited him as he worked a finger over her swollen clit.  Liquid caressed and drenched his finger as he traced the outer edge of her vagina.  Easing one, then two fingers inside, moisture coated them.  Slowly Tongson withdrew them.

“You smell wonderful love and. . .”  He thrust his cum covered fingers into his mouth and closed his lips around them.  He eased them out and spoke.  “Taste better than last time.”

Octavia murmured as she dropped to her knees beside Tongosn.  “I want to taste you.”  She pushed against his shoulders until he leaned back allowing her access to him.

She lowered herself until his cock glistening with pre-cum shined by the light of the fire.  Octavia cupped his balls and worked her free hand around him.  She puckered, and laved the head savoring the salty masculine taste.  With a quick bob, she worked her lips and mouth up and down.

Each moan and jerk fueled her to take more.  On her next pass, Tongson’s hand tangled in her hair.  “Much more and I’m going to come. “

Octavia released him and tossed her head back.  “I’d prefer you come joined with me as we watch the light show overhead.”

Side by side the two lovers worked the sleeping bag over them as Tongson eased into Octavia from behind.  Deep within her warmth, he sighed and spooned to her.  Slowly he thrust as she tightened around him on his withdraws until neither could contain themselves. Pants and cries of pleasure grew until their own glow of love and energy joined with the lights above them.

As they returned to earth ready to be flung again to orgasm’s lofty heights, Tongson nipped Octavia’s neck.  Her soft ‘love you’ warmed him and ignited passion’s coals for another round.

Posted by Solara Gordon


You Can't Print That...

“You can’t print that.” Nick handed the article he’d downloaded from his email to the riled up reporter he slid into bed with night after night.

“Now I know you didn’t just tell me what I can and cannot print.”  Ziva rose from her chair, her eyes spit fiery nails felt not just in his heart, but quite a bit lower as well.  With each increment her eyes lowered he had the frantic urge to reach down and cover his sack, keeping the nuts within safe. 


“We just had this discussion, Nicolas.  I am a reporter and you cannot tie my hands in this.  Now at home, to your paddling bench…yes, our bed…hell yes, but not here at work!” 

Nick shook his head and continued to hold the paper out for her to take.  “You can’t print that.”

“Damn you!”  Ziva ripped the sheet from his hands, leaving a shallow slice that burned like hell, but didn’t bleed.  “There’s nothing wrong with this article.”



Nick bent closer to the gorgeous woman with the flare of wolf in her eyes.  Noses nearly touching, eye contact secured and lips a heartbeat away.  “You told them to take their beasts out to shite in the woods.”

“So?  It’s a story about composting…you know, for Earth Day.  Of course they need to shite in the woods, around their composting site to create the breakdown and such.”

“Ziva, look here.”  He lifted the hand currently crumpling the article; their cheeks brushing one another when they turned to look.  “You said, and I quote, ‘Take out your beast from it day long containment beneath the skin and stretch those legs.  Let your paws pound the soft forest floor and your claws dig deep.  Find your composting plot and give in to your body’s natural urges.  It will be good for you and Mother Nature.’  You can’t print that.”

Nick straightened and backed away, giving her and himself room.  He’d not come in here to fuck, but anymore time that up close and personal with her scent and he would be taking out his beast, praying she would run.

“Why the hell not!  I like it.”

“I seem to remember quite a few humans who live in town and subscribe to the paper. Outting shifters is not the way we want to go.”

The fire in Ziva’s eyes simmered, but wasn’t doused.  “Well…run them out of town.”

“We don’t support that kind of action here in Talbot’s Peak…all peace loving folks are welcome.”

“Yeah, I know, but damn, Nick...I like this copy.”

Nick tried hard to keep his grin to a minimum as his sexy she had finally started to wind down, but he couldn’t help touching her cheek with his hand.  “I like the copy too, Sweet.  How about you clean it up enough to keep the peaceable’s from taking up pitch forks and torches and chasing us out of town.”

“Fine…I’ll try.”

“That’s all I ask, Ziva.”

He leaned against the door jam and watched the love of his life turn back toward the computer to pull up her files and wondered what kind of Earth Day present he could get her to sooth the hackles he’d raised.  Something made of wood that was for sure…recycled would be even better.

Have a wonderful Earth Day!

Posted by Serena Shay



“Is it time yet?” Molly whispered. She practically shivered with giggles. “It’s chilly out here.”

“So shift,” her brother Pete hissed back. “We don’t make our move until midnight. Those are the rules.”

“Stupid rules,” Molly’s boyfriend Sherman muttered. He was a raccoon, but nobody had ever held that against him. “Stupid prank. Shouldn’t we be tipping over garbage cans or something?”

“Always with the garbage cans,” Pete said. “When we’re done, I’m taking you for breakfast at the diner. Get some real food into you.”

“As long as you’re paying.”

“It’s midnight!” Pete and Molly’s cousin, Chuck, announced from behind the wheel. “We’re off.”

He trundled the pickup down the farm lane and onto pavement. Molly, Pete and Sherman huddled and snickered in the bed under a tarp, where they kept the picks, shovels and their “delivery” from rolling around. They were less successful with themselves; more than once a body hit the side of the truck and somebody snapped off a swear word when Chuck took a curve too fast. “Easy does it,” Pete called to Chuck from beneath the tarp.

“We’ve got six stops to make,” Chuck retorted. “We don’t have time for easy.”

“Stupid prank,” Sherman grumbled again. “I’m knocking over a garbage can.”

“On the way out,” Pete relented.

# # #

Earth Day dawned in Talbot’s Peak bright and crisp and sunny, like it knew there'd be a celebration on.. Mayor Gil was holding off on his own celebrations. First he had to assess the damage. “Who got hit last night?” he asked his assistant, Paul.

“Six strikes this year, sir. They hit the diner again, and some residential homes, and the park. I’m sure you also noticed the fir out front. Some people got their garbage cans kicked over. We think one of the perps may have been a raccoon.”

Gil shook his head. “Any complaints?”

“Mrs. Cochrane wants the holly removed. She says her cats eat the berries and get sick. Somebody up the mountain heard about it and said they’d dig it up and take it. His wife does crafts. You know, Christmas wreaths.”

Gil leaned back in his chair. He couldn’t see the freshly-planted blue spruce in front of City Hall, but he knew it was there. “Explain it to me again, Paul. Real slow, with small words. Every year on Earth Day, a bunch of kids goes out after dark and does a stealth planting of trees in public places?”

“Trees mostly. One year they did shrubbery. You’ve seen that little three-foot hedge maze off the square?”

“The one the little kids go tearing through all the time? Yeah. Hoodlums did that? Why?”

Paul shrugged. “They’re beavers,” he said, like that explained everything.

“So,” Gil said, struggling with the concept, “to a beaver, planting a tree in somebody’s yard is like throwing toilet paper at a house?”

Now Paul looked confused. “Why would anybody do that?”

“You’ve never been human, so never mind. Where do they get the trees? Dig ‘em up in the woods?”

“Sometimes. I know at least one bunch has an uncle who runs a tree farm. He always seems to have extras lying around in the spring. Beavers do love their trees, sir.”

Gil sighed. “Someday I’ll get the hang of this. If you run into the little hooligans, you might want to let ‘em know the climate around here won’t support peanuts. That vine I found in my back yard won’t even make it to summer.”

“I’m sure they meant well, sir.”

“Yeah,” Gil said. Nine-thirty in the morning, and already he wanted a drink. “I hate holidays.”

Posted by Pat C. 


Talbot's Peak Garden of Eden
by Savanna Kougar

Syressa glided down the rainbow bridge. With a point of her finger, she'd magickally created the fifth dimensional bridge. Light as a feather, she whizzed from her home deep in the forest -- a bungalow she'd crafted from native stone, and other natural earth materials.

With a jarring thump, she landed on one foot behind Talbot's Peak's garden center. Once again, she'd gotten carried away with the sheer exhilaration of riding her rainbow.

Quickly Syressa righted herself, chuckling at her clumsiness. She disappeared her diaphanous wings fast. They'd popped out to help her keep her balance.

Yeah, yeah, the shapeshifter town was full of supernatural folk. But many still-in-the-dark humans roamed about, and she was not without enemies. Those black-soul sorcerers who hunted her kind, captured them, then cruelly, slowly drained away their fae powers.

Sensing for any disturbance in the wacky-wild force that was the Peak, Syressa glanced around. She always remained on guard when visiting any populated area.

The changeling hunters, often hired by the dark-side sorcerers, diffused their distinctive energy signatures by using the auras of the unsuspecting. Syressa shivered at the very thought of being forced to supercharge foul, life-murdering spells. This was an evil she simply didn't, couldn't understand.

"All clear," she murmured to herself. The midmorning sun sang golden rays through her as she adjusted her large canvass shoulder bag, and Syressa mentally sent a kiss to Sol's cheek.

"Let me guess," Laurie gave her welcoming grin, "you're here for more seeds."

Syressa nodded, then smiled. "This is the best, most wonderful garden center around."

"It's the only one." Laurie laughed, and moved from behind the checkout counter. "Guess what I have for you." She headed for her storeroom, motioning Syressa to follow her. "Since you always want my oldest seeds, I had a *turn in your old seeds for fresh seeds* sale. You know, folks are always buying with the idea of planting, and they don't always follow through."

"Perfect," Syressa enthused, already feeling the seeds calling to her. "How thoughtful of you, Laurie."

"Oh, I dunno. You're my best customer." Laurie plucked a stuffed store bag off the shelf. Turning, she placed it inside Syressa's bag once she'd lifted the flap.

"Besides," Laurie continued, "I like the idea of every seed having a second chance to grow. And with your amazing green thumb, Syressa, like you've said, we're planting our own Garden of Eden here in the Peak area."

"I can't wait to start spreading these, giving them a home in the Earth." Syressa patted her bag, infusing the vegetable, fruit, herb, and flower seeds with her green-light energy.

"Me and Digger are rallying the rabbit troops. Surprising how a wolf shifter and rabbit shifters can become such good buddies. Sure, he shared his garden goodies with them, and they helped out. But, Digger's actually developed a real fondness for his bunny buds, as he calls them."

Laurie moved toward the back of the storeroom. "Since Digger has extra seeds saved from last year's garden, we're going to plant them on every empty plot in town."

"That will be a good garden of eatin'." Syressa tingled, elation sparkling her insides. She glanced around to make certain no sparkles had escaped, and she wasn't leaving a glittery trail. "Let me know when, and I'll spread the love, as they say."

"Absolutely." Laurie bent over, pulling the special-delivery box toward her. "You might have to spread a lot of that green-thumb love around. We're hoping to inspire others, get them in the mood to plant gardens. Already got Mayor Gil on board. Promised to plant more nut-bearing trees. Him being a squirrel shifter and all."

Joy burst through Syressa as she envisioned abundant, sunshine-bright gardens everywhere. She smiled knowing everyone would be well fed from the food they grew -- well nourished by the sacred energies of sun, water, wind, and Mother Earth -- that which divinely created each plant.

About to float off the floor from her musings, she heard the bell on the front door announce another customer.

"Be right back." Laurie raised up from opening the box. "Help yourself. We'll settle the bill later."

Kneeling, Syressa eagerly dived in. One by one, she pulled out the pound-sized packages of seeds. She and Laurie had discovered the cottage business online, and after speaking with the generational, organic-farm family, they'd placed the order for the wild plants native to their Montana area.

"Born free," Syressa sang in a whisper, as images flowed before her mind's eye of where she planned to 'free' the seeds. Then, as she'd walked the land, or rode astride her golden ram, she'd watch them burst into life, feel their green shoots seek the sunlight.

So immersed in selecting her seeds, Syressa didn't hear the man's footsteps. At first.

She whirled on her haunches. Her inner wolfess prepared to launch upward. Syressa shot her palm toward him, ready to flashfire her magick bullets. 

"Whoa there."  The tall lanky man halted in his tracks, and raised his hands in mock surrender. "Pardon, little lady. Miss Laurie sent me back here."

Realizing, he wasn't a threat, Syressa lowered her hand. A grin shadowed his tough as rawhide features, and she caught the glint of amusement in his eyes. Silver-gray eyes that were so sharp they could cut a foe down to size in no time.

"Friends?" he asked in his rough and tumble, manly voice, even as he tipped his dark gray Stetson.

"Depends." Syressa raised upward, her movement reflecting her wolfess. Warily, she sniffed. Her beast side wasn't letting go until she knew the full score.

"Where are my manners?" he drawled like an old-west gentleman. "Drogan. My first name. Drogan Vann."

He extended his hand, a peace offering by her eye. A moment passed as she stood her ground, and they full-on assessed each other.

"Syressa is my name. I'm afraid my hands are off limits. A psychic thing," she added, as he raised his black silver-tipped eyebrows.

She firmed her jaw, and raised her chin, daring him to ridicule her sixth sense.

"You got some pair of flashing beautiful eyes, Miss Syressa."

Thrown off a bit by his sincere praise, Syressa un-tensed her posture. "Why did Laurie send you back here?"

He rested his hand on the butt of his sidearm, his manner easy as a real live gunslinger. Although, he wasn't a young gun type. No, not by any means. He was the all-too-sexy, mature type with silver sideburns.

The wolfess yipped her appreciation, and Syressa wondered if his inner wolf heard.  She psi-listened, but no answer howled inside her.

Without indicating he knew about her shapeshifter side, Drogan offered a 'let's be friends' grin. "Laurie was sayin' you could give me some sound advice. I'm up from Texas. Just bought a spread south of town. And I'm lookin' to turn it natural."

"Natural? Wildflowers, prairie grass, berries?" On her territory now, Syressa relaxed her guard.

"I'll take all of the above," he drawled nice and easy, yet truth lived in his words. "The land's been over grazed so I figured the best thing to do was let Mother Nature take over. Trouble is, I ain't no expert."

"So, you came to the garden center? Why not do that cyber web search thing?" She eyed him directly just for good measure.

"Not much of a computer man." He casually hooked his thumb on his plain leather gun belt, while running his gaze over her, real subtle like. "Like ridin' the ranch better. The other evening, I met Digger at Rattigan's, and he said to talk with his gal, Laurie."

"Over grazed." Syressa tapped her chin. Ideas rapid-fired through her head, and her heart winged at the thought of resurrecting the land. "Now's a good time to sow some of the seeds. Although some like being in the ground during winter first. I suppose we could find out if it works for both of our schedules... if so, yeah, I'll help you out."

"I'll make my schedule work, Miss Syressa. I got time. Nothing to do but make the acquaintances of the good folk in town, and take care of the ranch. Got a few head of horses and cattle, and a few other critters. That's it."

The psi-vision felt as if it smacked her forehead. A wolf pack running  in the moonlight, racing over the wide open land, their spirits fierce and free. It was his pack.

"Family, I assume." Syressa lifted a brow.

"How about I treat you to lunch, and we'll talk." He hadn't missed a beat. "One of those organic places, if you like."

Stunned at some undefinable level, Syressa didn't answer. She couldn't speak, for some reason that eluded her. "Seeds," she murmured a moment later, and glanced over her shoulder.

"Of course, I interrupted. Why don't I give you a hand with those? Then we'll get a bite to eat."

He sauntered past her with long strides that did wicked twinkly things to her insides.  Nonplussed by his presence, her head reeling, Syressa managed to spin around.

With her gaze captured by his broad shoulders, his trim waist, and his extra fine butt meant for riding in a saddle, she watched him hunker down next to the box.

"You can start educatin' me right now."  He winked, but his expression remained serious, as in he really did want to know.

"You sure do want your land renewed... don't you?" Kinda of a silly thing to say, Syressa knew, given it was obvious now, he wanted more than that. She smelled his mating lust.

But truth to tell Shining One Moon, she didn't have all that much experience with men. Most avoided her like the plague, instinctively knowing she could destroy them at will. Not that she'd had to, except on rare occasions.

"I want a lot of things 'renewed', Miss Syressa. It's why I left Texas to join up with this shapeshifter community. Join up with Dante and his posse."

"Are you related to Dante?" Syressa felt her feet move of their own volition, and before she knew it she'd lowered herself beside him.

"Quite a few generations back, but yep. More important, we're ropin' the same goals."

She knew he did it to put her at ease... sweeping his Stetson off, picking up one of the seed packages.

"I'm not exactly a shapeshifter... only a shifter, that is."

"Figured. You're too sparkly and way too cute... Miss Syressa. Now don't you worry I'll be real gentle, the way I court you. Until you want more, that is."

His gaze reflected his words, silvery brilliant, deep as the lake she loved to swim in, and only for her.   Yes, only for her.


Wishing you shapeshifting love on the wild side…


Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance ~


Just click on my page above for a look at my first ShapeShifter Seductions 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...

Wednesday, April 17, 2013

Jave Joe's new betting pool

Marissa looked at the huge dry erase board Mooney had installed along the short back wall of Java Joe’s on the second anniversary of her opening the coffee shop. It was huge, ran floor to ceiling and had little whimsical baskets to hold the dry-erase markers and erasers. It also, at the moment, had what looked like a betting pool. In one column, the bet was for what White Fang was going to change his name to. The next column was for who was going to change their name next. And the third was… coffee vs beer? She shook her head, knowing full-well her kids were behind this. Rattigan’s was famous for their betting pools. Her stepsons were famous for being pissed about not being able to join in, since it was a bar.

“So, you going to get rid of that thing?” Sheriff Coltrane asked. Marissa looked over her shoulder at the wily old peace officer. She had long since stopped jumping when he snuck up on her.

“Na,” she replied. There are worse things than giving the youngsters of the Peak someplace to blow off a little steam. Besides, if they are committing their mischief in plain view of me, then they aren’t committing it elsewhere for us to find later.” The sheriff chuckled.

“True enough, Miss Marissa. True enough. But what if they end up having to pay out all those bets?”

“The bets are all for baked goods, frappies, and hot chocolate,” Marissa said with a smile. “If they lose their shirts, they can pay out in IOUs and I’ll get it back outa their hides through hard work.”

“Well, that does make this all sound better,” the sheriff agreed with another chuckle. “I have to say, you sure have been good for those McMahon boys. And their daddy, too. I never would have expected a tiny little thing like you to handle them so well.”

“It’s because she’s meaner than she looks,” Mooney said as he swooped up from behind her to lay a reverse bear hung on her. Marissa leaned her head back and kissed his chin.

“I’m not mean,” she replied with a smirk. “I just know what carrot to dangle before you. You do what I want, you get what you want…”

Tuesday, April 16, 2013

Revising Red Lioness & Busterballs

Tuesday howls and yowls, shapeshifter lovers.

A somber day in the aftermath of the Boston Marathon tragedy. If I weren't so exhausted from a very long day with way too little sleep, I would let my tigress heroine, Kytaira, exact  her brand of claw-ripping justice against those who would slaughter innocents. As it is I can only offer my heartfelt blessings to all involved.

That said, on a brighter note, this coming Friday, April 19th through Sunday, April 21st, we ShapeShifter Seductions authors are participating in an Earth Day blog hop ~ Love a Tree, Read an Ebook.

Join us, and a bevy of other exceptional authors, for a hopping extravaganza of fun, flashes, and prizes. Our ebooks will tempt you, tease you, and then please you.

Also, like Pat I'm suffering from blank-mind syndrome, and I have another over-long day ahead of me, so... what to do? I've got to hit the sackeroo.

Okay, currently I'm revising RED LIONESS TAMED, my sci fi shapeshifter erotic romance. I plan to republish it as an Indie. Here's the first six paragraphs.


Red Lioness Tamed

Adventures of Sun Rocket, Book 1

Chapter One:
Sun Rocket and Draxen

Year 3051, according to the relic Earth calendar preserved on Terra-Mars

"Frax! My brain feels like it’s been spun out of cobwebs." Sun Rocket squeezed her eyelids open and shut several times. Anything to clear her head.

Aware she lay on a hard metallic surface, Sun Rocket slightly altered her position. After blowing out a large breath, she attempted to open her eyes.

"Frax it to the sun! More cobwebs," she angrily complained.

Pressing her hand over her eyes, Sun Rocket sniffed carefully. Sterile, her surroundings, except for harmless micro dust--except for her--about half a day away from a bath or a good tongue licking.

Experimentally she shoved with her foot. Half her usual body weight. She was probably inside some cargo hold, orbiting or...

Cargo hold. What the--? Sun Rocket shot up to a sitting position. Her head spun at some undefined warp speed.

As well, here's a flash scene I wrote for fun after publishing Red Lioness Tamed. It takes place prior to the story, and is a bit rough around the edges. Yep, polishing needed... but, what the heck... hope you enjoy. 

The Capture of BusterBalls

With her heightened senses devoted to capturing her prey, Sun Rocket didn't bother counting all the rainbows in the Uquenxia sky. The blaze-stained colors gently arched, one above the other, and hung as if a permanent feature of the small planet. "Meow and heart-stopping wow," she whispered for her own benefit.

Uquenxia, the fourth in orbit around a twin suns' solar system, was a jungle paradise with an atmosphere friendly to her kind. Even the dark-skinned, pole-tall residents were friendly to her cat shifter race, unusual for a galactic world. Which made it all the more imperative to track down BusterBalls, a cat shifter gone rogue.

Allowing the amazing display to envelop her, she sniffed for the Tiger-Himalayan hybrid, who thought he was Bast's mating gift to every woman he found carnal delectable.

"Stinking balls ass," Sun Rocket derided, scenting him. Sauntering lazily to avoid suspicion, she followed the tiny thread of odor, even though the jungle's thick blooming fragrances surrounded her like fog and saturated her skin.

The fact that the woman BusterBalls stalked to seduce, may already be mated or with another male, rarely deterred the sly conceited cat. So named because his favorite method of getting rid of the competition–waiting with extreme patience, sneaking up on the unfortunate male, then using his massive tiger-strong jaws to crunch the rival's testicles.

Sun Rocket winced, recalling the bloody messy visuals she'd been shown. BusterBalls didn't possess an iota of mercy, his human side lost to his mating nature.

Aware of several creatures eyeing her as prey in this world of giant-sized animal life, Sun Rocket strolled toward an open air cantina, a chic establishment located beneath a semi-circle of enormous palm trees. She waved a friendly hand in the local style at the curious seated couples, while pretending not to notice the frank over-heated stares of two men.

An instant later her nose wrinkled in reaction to the stench of BusterBalls' rut. Meow-yowl about a bad fish market. He'd been in the cantina recently, within half of Uquenxia's bright long day.

Staying on the hard-packed path through the edge of the tropical jungle, Sun Rocket shifted with ease into her lioness woman form, since no one observed her, and she was on the hunt. As she chased her prey down, she became Kahoqua, her feline name. Her running strides silent and swift, despite her tourist-casual sandals, she closed in on the raunchy fucker.

Fierce, intent on ridding the intergalactic community of a bad cat shifter, she nearly rammed into a Uquenxian man who frantically hopped in agony, while holding onto his testicles. With primitive reflexes, Kahoqua jumped to the side, and raced on, knowing she couldn't help him. Roar to hell! Catching the ball-chomping beast would save other males in the future.

Hearing the rapid moans of a woman being pleasured, Kahoqua leapt upwards into a spin, then charged in that direction. In moments, BusterBall's mating odor competed with every jungle smell, a stink up to the suns. Once she heard his caterwauling lust, Kahoqua slowed her pace. Spying a tidy domicile, shaped to shed the frequent rainshowers, she stealthily crept forward.

Flicking her ears, she searched for his exact location. His humping smell was like a heavy mist diffusing her ability to sniff him out. Stepping behind an huge tree with smooth bark, she listened to BusterBall's rhythmic grunts before peering around the trunk. In the filtered sunlight, his butt blatantly gleamed with striped pale tan fur. His yellow-fur balls swung like fat bulbous pouches as he plowed back and forth into the woman's sheath. He'd only partially shifted, and was without his tail.

Kahoqua pressed against the trunk, her eyes clenched shut. Damn, the slippery trout of fate. She couldn't bring herself to interrupt, since the woman seemed to be actually enjoying herself. And scrape hell with her claws, she wasn't watching BusterBall's ugly balls bounce as he fucked. Prepared to pounce, she listened for the woman's final pleasure.

Once the woman's cries of ecstasy joined with BusterBall's rutting growls, Kahoqua peeked around the trunk while unsheathing her attack claws. Swinging back and forth with each vigorous thrust, the woman lay on a large hammock sideways, her dark lean limbs spread apart in a large V.

Bast, thank you. BusterBall's testicles were hitched up tightly, ready to explode. He launched his loins forward, groaning his orgasm. Kahoqua sprang as he tiger-screamed his orgasm, the TestesTaze loop in one hand. Reaching him as he fell over the woman, she snaked her hand toward the front of his throat, and sank her claws into his fur and thick flesh.

Hauling him backwards by his throat, Kahoqua used the momentum of his weight to slide his cock out of the woman. Gripping the back of his neck with her fangs, she flung her body's much smaller weight against his back. Unprepared for the attack and sex-depleted, BusterBalls sprawled through the air, then smacked onto the jungle floor, while the woman shrieked in fear.

Before he could whip around and savagely claw her, Kahoqua seized the slimy flesh of his sack above his balls. Her fingers squeezed into a vise. She jerked hard, sprang and straddled his back. He roared furiously as she clamped the TestesTaze loop where her fingers had been.

"Gotcha, ya bad kitty shifter," Kahoqua growled.

"No!" the woman shouted in her tongue, her desperation obvious to Kahoqua's ear. "Love. Love."

"Love?" Kahoqua snarled toward BusterBalls slack ear. He didn't move a big cat muscle knowing that excruciating pain would wrack his entire body from the Taze ring if he did.

"No, love," the woman continued. She rattled off a lengthy explanation of how she and BusterBalls had come to know one another, care for one another, and had finally fallen passionately in love.

"Understand, understand." Kahoqua waved a hand to halt her when she finally inhaled a large breath. "Tell me, who is the man with the crunched balls?"

"Her brother," BusterBalls croaked in a growl.

"He was here to force me to marry another."

Kahoqua rolled her eyes, and yowled a sigh. She couldn't disbelieve. The woman was much too sincere. Plus the stars, her own lie detecting intuition didn't wail a warning. "Holy catfish damn," she muttered.

Plopping her bottom down on the middle of BusterBalls brawny back, her tail slashing back and forth, she tried to think of a solution. "He's been a very bad boy." Eyeing the woman, she asked, "Do you understand?"

"I told her," BusterBalls croaked again.

"Yes, he confessed his bad ways." The woman's heart shone in her eyes, along with a ray of hope.

"Yeah, I'll bet the shrimp farm on that one." Kahoqua growled a long sigh, listening to her own heart. "Here's my offer. I can adjust the Taze ring to be comfortable and activate only if ‘he'..." she cast her glance down at BusterBalls, "leaves your world."

The woman smiled brilliantly, nodded, then fell to her knees beside BusterBall's head, and stroked him tenderly.

"BusterBalls?" Kahoqua let her voice drip with fur-stripping acid.

"Yes," he simply spoke, somewhere between a purr and a groan of pain.

"Yeah, love...ain't it grand as the galaxy," Kahoqua crooned. Rising, she efficiently adjusted the TestesTaze. "You know what happens if I have to hunt you down again," she threatened with her talking growl. And with the whipping slash of her tail.

"I know," he grrr-ed. Ever so slowly he turned over on his back. His belly exposed, his cock sheathed, he offered no challenge.

"No more happy fucking balls if you leave Uquenxia, remember that." Kahoqua  pivoted, her own heart hoping for the best. Gazing over her shoulder, she added, "Be happy."


Wishing you shapeshifting love on the wild side… 


Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance ~

Monday, April 15, 2013

Pretty Poison

(brain went blank today, so it’s late and it’s short. Them’s the breaks.)

Lee Northridge had only one good thing to say about Montana: he didn’t have to change clothes. His boots, jeans, hat and sheepskin coat helped him blend right in with the locals. Only trouble was, the woman he sought dressed the same and would blend in as well.

No matter. He’d find her if he had to hit every damn bar in the state. He only had to listen for that voice.

Six counties and uncountable honky-tonks later, Lee rolled into Talbot’s Peak. Normally he would have bypassed the biker bar, but something about this one made him pull his pickup into the lot. He could picture her here, belly to the bar, or bent over a pool table with her butt in the air and that innocent, Mister, I ain’t never played this game before look on her face. You had to really listen to a woman like her. You only got the one warning before she struck.

His instincts paid off. There she was, just as he’d pictured her, hustling pool with a couple of wolf shifters. She has those old boys all turned around, batting her mile-long lashes at them while beating the pants off their asses.

He waited until she had a tricky shot lined up, then with expert timing said, “Howdy, Rosa.”

Poor girl damn near ripped the felt. Her pool cue sent balls scattering.

Instantly the wolves closed ranks to protect their new best friend. She waved them off with a careless flick of her hand. There was nothing careless about the look in her eyes. That was venom, pure and undistilled.

Lee tipped his hat. “Rosa.”

“Lee Northridge. As I live and breathe.” She nodded to the wolves. “It’s good, boys, I got this.”

The two wolves continued to glare at him. “Yell if you need a hand.”

She shrugged. She wouldn’t. He’d let her believe that. For the moment it suited him.

In the meantime, he caught his breath. Hot dayum.

Rosa Terranova hadn’t changed a hair in the year in a half she’d been gone. Still all curves and glossy hair and hips a man wanted to take hold of and a body that begged to be dragged against a man, or pressed again a wall, or bent over a barstool. She could handle ‘em all. Sidewinders were limber as all get out, and they liked a rough, hard ride. Too bad the second you turned your back, they sank their fangs into your neck.

Rosa bared those white, shiny teeth at him now. “I’ll save you the trouble, sugah. I don’t have it. It’s gone.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“It’s the truth, for once. If you came all the way to Montana for your brother’s money, you just wasted a road trip.”

She started to undulate away. Lee grabbed her arm. She turned on him in a flash, her red lips pulled back to let a hiss escape. The bracelets adorning her arms rattled a warning.

“What if I told you,” he hissed back at her, “that I wasn’t after the money?”

“Then you still wasted your time.” Rosa shook him off with ease. She’d always been stronger than she looked. “Hit the road, sugah. You ain’t wanted here.”

Rosa glided away without a backward glance. Lee started after her, but the wolves got in the way. He backed off. He knew where she was now. He could bide his time. But he wouldn’t bide long.

Snakes. Why did it have to be snakes?

Why did it have to be her?

Love a Tree, Read an Ebook Blog Hop

Saturday, April 13, 2013

Promo-HOT FOR TORREY by Solara Gordon


Looking for a hot read?  Look no further!  Holt and Torrey light up a summer storm with some lightning and thunder of their own.  Friends with benefits lead to more than either had planned on.
When a set up date turns into a second chance, Torrey and Holt reconnect with passion that leaves both of the wondering, can they and should they turn their second chance into something more permanent.


“Giving up already?” Torrey started to rock back on her heels away from Holt.
“Hold on, please. How about some good old-fashioned spooning with intercourse combined?” Holt reached up and fondled Torrey’s breasts. He scooted forward, captured each nipple in his mouth, sucked them, and let go. “I want to come together like we’ve done in the past if we can coordinate things.”
Torrey sighed. A stiff yawn followed. She looked at the bedside clock. Two p.m. While it wasn’t late on a normal day—what had been normal about yesterday or today?—they were both short on sleep and running on adrenaline from last night. A nap curled up in Holt’s arms felt right and made sense. Falling asleep in a postcoital embrace sounded wonderful. Later on at dinner, she’d tell him what her newfound feelings were. She’d take a chance on saying out loud the three words she whispered two years ago each time she saw him and kept hidden in her heart ever since, I love you.
Holt eased out from under Torrey and stood. “Make yourself comfortable, lady. I’m ready to finish what we started. I want to come long and hard deep inside you.”
Torrey rolled to her side. “Probably a pillow under my hip makes sense since you’re taller than me. That way you can ease into me from behind and still play with me as you like.”
Holt smiled and reached for the box of condoms sitting on the nightstand. “Neither of us is going to last long once I touch your clit. I know how wet you are.” He tore open the foil packet, eased the condom on, and kneeled on the bed. “Ready if you are, my darling.”
Torrey tried to vocalize her consent except her throat tightened on her, going dry from her mouth down to her vocal chords. All she could do was nod and smile. As she lay back on the pillows, she wondered how good Holt was at reading sign language. Not that she knew any. Maybe if she pointed, nodded, and smiled he might understand.

* * * *

Holt watched as Torrey kept enthusiastically nodding. He inhaled to keep from snorting and laughing. He’d gotten to her so much that she couldn’t speak. He wasn’t going to miss out on a golden opportunity. He reached out, capturing her nipples between his thumb and finger. He twisted and pulled like he’d done earlier, but this time he drew the pressure and pulled all the way out to the edge of her erect nipples.
Torrey arched her shoulders, forcing her breasts forward. Holt caught the look of pleasure flooding her face before she closed her eyes and exhaled. He let go of her nipples and followed her down on to the bed, bracing himself on his elbows and forearms so their chests were mere inches apart. Holt matched his breathing with Torrey’s. It was as if they were one in actions, thought, and focus. They lacked the last intimate physical connection, his cock deep within Torrey, rocking them to whatever number of mind-blowing orgasms they could reach before sleep overwhelmed them.
Torrey gently fondled him until his eyes met hers. She licked her lips and glanced at her hand. Holt gulped air as she tightened her hold on him. “Easy, darlin’. Much more of that and I’ll come.”
Holt rolled to his side as Torrey let go. “Come on top and ride us to the crest and back, love.”
Torrey swallowed hard and smiled. “Yes,” she managed to get out, despite her hoarseness.
Holding Holt with one hand, she used her other to steady herself as she straddled him. Moments later, she guided him deep within her. Holt placed his hands on her hips, stabilizing her jerky movements. “You set the pace,” he groaned on her next downward plunge.

* * * *

Torrey sucked in air as Holt rose to meet her. He held her steady barely moving his hips as he thrust rapidly in and out of her, stroking the fire waiting to explode deep in her belly. One last lunge deep within her and he fell back, breathing hard. “You are so wet,” he groaned. Holt’s hands dropped to his sides. “Baby, I don’t know how much more you can take. I’m ready to explode.”
Torrey smiled and ground her pussy tight against Holt, leaving no space between them as she began short jerks of her hips, mimicking what he’d done to her minutes before. “You said set the pace. I’m gonna enjoy the ride for a bit longer.” Holt groaned deep in his throat as Torrey tightened around him. The look on his face along with his short breaths said she had him right where she wanted him, hard, skirting the edge of a strong orgasm, and deep inside her.
Torrey picked up speed as her own need grew. Twice before at Holt’s encouragement, she’d ridden him. Both times, their mutual orgasms sent them both out of their bodies and into a space where nothing but being there together mattered. Of course, mind-blowing orgasms happened with others, but nothing compared to the aftercare that they lavished on each other. Torrey sucked in her stomach as tight as she could and milked Holt using the Kegel exercises she recently learned. The healthcare team at the shelter was right! Ripples set off more ripples and in turn created a stimulation that had Torrey panting along with Holt.


 Happy Weekend Gang!

Warm weather is here.  And now the air conditioning in my car is on the fritz!  Ah well, it is not so hot for a while that rolling down the windows as I zip along the highway will help.

Another busy week has passed here at the Spice Homestead.  Romantic Times Booklovers Convention is a few weeks off.  I'd love to meet up with my fans and readers there.  I'll be at the Siren Table from time to time as well as signing at the Expo on Thursday evening.  Please stop by and enter the drawing I'm holding.  We'll also have a basket filled with books, stuffed animals, lotion, and other swag for you to enter to win in Club RT.

While you're enjoying the excerpt, please purchase a copy of Hot for Torrey.  If you prefer print copies, you can order them from Amazon or Barnes and Noble.  I'll sign your copy for you if you're attending Romantic Times.  

Until next week, remember to share a good book or two with your spice and loves.  I know I will be!