Saturday, June 29, 2013

Memories and Mayoral Duties

Gil pulled his digital camera out of his waist pack.  Getting a committee ready to proceed with setting up a combination fair and street carnival took skill that he wasn’t sure he could tackle on his own.  Somehow it happened without much trouble.  A group of ten met civilly until one dumb shifter asked about full moon activities and a swiveling contest.  And the male in question didn’t mean spinning around in circles.  Gil shook his head as he turned on the camera and began clicking through the pictures on the internal memory card.  

The committee of five humans and five shifters were moving along with plans and cost analysis even with the mealy mouthed replaced.   Women on the committee drew up lists of activities and displays they thought appealed to most females.  Their male counterparts did the same.  Then there were the pictures they asked to see.  Gil swallowed hard thinking up a couple of lies until Hadley had rushed in stating Louie needed him at Ratagins.  As Gil trotted down the street next to Hadley, he asked what the emergency was.  Hadley didn’t answer and picked up the pace.

Gil smiled as they slowed in front of the restaurant.  Ranger, grinning, held out Gil’s waist pack.  “Found this in the truck.  Put new batteries in for you.  Snapped a couple of pics to make sure it worked.”

Ranger nodded and winked as Gil retrieved his possession.   Gil shrugged, thanked Ranger and followed Hadley inside.  Louie and Bettina stood at the bar.  Papers laid out in front of them indicated they were either going over either the week’s menu or other business papers.  Gil opened his mouth to speak when Louie looked up.  His smile increased the closer Gil got to the bar.

“Boy, I didn’t know you had it in you.”  Louie stepped around the bar and enveloped Gil in a huge bear hug.  “You got the touch I’ll say.  Woohee!”

Bettina’s gaze met Gil’s.  She shook her head, and walked away.  Ranger followed her into the kitchen.  Hadley started after him.  

“Let the wolf be,” Louie said.  “He’s gonna find out panting after her isn’t working. “

“I don’t need a vampish wolf or wolfish vamp as my second in command.”  Hadley groused as he drummed his fingers on the bar.

“Bettina knows better than to bite a shifter.  She’s got enough half-breeds and two halfers to tend with.  Though putting a bit of fear into him isn’t above her.”  Louie slid a beer across the bar.  He poured one for himself and another for Gil.

Louie watched as Gil stared at the beer, then at him and Hadley.  “Speak up boy.  Cat or otters got your tongue?”  

Louie swore Gil blushed, stammered in squirrel and blushed again.
Gil looked up from where he sat under the tree in the park as more memories of an afternoon with a set of frisky otter triplets flooded back.  Praise the squirrel gods there was a breeze blowing or he’d be fanning himself.

Happy Weekend Gang!

Wooohee Gil is racking up the ladies!  Dang, what was he doing on that fishing trip with Phil and company?  Excuse me while I fan myself as my muse tells me what she thinks happened!

Weather and heat.  Rain and heat.  Sauna baths outdoors?  Goodness I hope you are staying cool and hydrated!  May your air conditioning keep on cooling as you share a good book or two with your loves and spice!  


Friday, June 28, 2013

Orders to a Cranky Dragon

Happy Friday!  Just a short one from me today...a problem in Talbot's Peak to be resolved, hopefully before the 4th of July.

“You did not just tell me where and when I can fly, Dante.”  Smoke puffed from his nostrils, a sure sign his dragon was becoming riled.

“It’s only for the 4th of July celebration and fireworks display, Erol.  I think you can manage to stay on the ground for a few hours.”

“I am dragon!  The sky is my domain…no one shall keep me from her!”  He would kill any man or beast that thought to force him from the air.

“Be calm my dragon friend and think this through.  More humans seem to be drawn to Talbot’s Peak celebrations.  They are good for the economy, but a trial for the shifters.  The last thing you need is for the existence of the pyr to become exposed.  Every dragon out there would be put in danger.  Your brethren hunted to further extinction.  Is a singular night of flying worth the lives that hang in the balance?”

“Damn you, Dante!”  Fire leeched from his nose, his eyes turned reptilian.  His friend was right, but it did not settle the dragon’s needs.  “This town was supposed to be a place of safety for shifters why did that change?”

“A normal progression, Erol.  The bigger we get, the more we celebrate the more humans will be drawn here.  Tell me, why is this one night so important?  I’m asking you to ground yourself for mere hours yet you are quick to anger.”

It was because of her…

“Have you ever seen a fireworks display from above, from amidst the bursts?”

“Sad no, but it sounds as if you have.”

He had, and there was no better way to enjoy the festivities.  He’d wanted that for her…

“I have and it is beyond anything you can imagine.  I’d planned on taking my mate into the sky that night.  To fly her through the brilliance, to show her a beauty so few ever saw.”

“Greely would love that, Erol.  I’m sorry…”

“Don’t apologize, Dante, I know you’re right.  I’ll need to find a different way to show her the stars.”
But show her he would…someday.

“Let’s both think about a way to make it work, Erol.  There must be a solution to this problem.”
May your weekend be filled with a love that wants to show you such brilliance!


Thursday, June 27, 2013

Wrapping Up the Story (for now)

(Because we can’t leave Manscape Mike and his story hanging)

Mike stared out his kitchen window, unbelieving. “What the furballing hell?”

It was big. It was orange. It had a door and two little shuttered windows. The top appeared removable, like a lid.

It was also, as Mike discovered when he cautiously approached it, made of fiberglass.

He circled the structure warily, shaking his head. There were no wheels or drag marks. “How the hell did you get here?” he asked it. After all, eight-foot-high fiberglass pumpkins didn’t just wander into a dude’s back yard.

The door intrigued him. He tried the knob. The door opened. Inside the pumpkin was a little round room, bare but fairly clean except for snatches of graffiti scrawled on its painted walls. The messages were of the “Beth + Tommy 4ever” and “Spud wuz here ‘98” variety.

The longer he stared, the more the room beckoned to him. It was like the world’s smallest apartment, or the world’s biggest pet carrier.

Or a cardboard box with windows.

The cat in him had to explore.

He ducked through the doorway and stepped inside. He slid his hand over the smooth walls and his bare feet over the floor. Oh, this was fine. He could bring a six-pack and a tablet in here and watch TV, or just roll around on the floor or rub his furry cat body up against the walls or—

“Holy Joe, Mike! Where did you get this? When did you get this?”

Mike started, and nearly banged his head on the pumpkin house’s curved ceiling. “Barbie.”

“Hi. Yeah, I know, no warning, but I was out for a jog and I thought I saw orange … is this a pumpkin?”

“A fake one. Somebody must have heard I was looking for giant squash and decided to play a joke on me. I don’t know where it came from. I just woke up and here it was.”

Barbie caressed the pumpkin’s outer shell. “It’s so cute.”

So was Barbie, for a human. Mike was amazed he’d never noticed that before. “Would you like to come inside?”

She didn’t hesitate. Not even for a second. Mike debated whether he should offer her coffee and decided to wait until later.

# # #

Though Mike didn’t know it, his guess was correct. Word of his search for giant vegetables had reached the drinking crowd at Dante’s. A pack of bored coyotes, bored no longer, watched from two yards over. They elbowed each other and snickered, especially when the noises started.

# # #

“Pablo, man,” Hoover leaned on the counter of the Rocky Top Motel. “What’s happening?”

“Dude, you won’t believe this,” Pablo said. “Somebody got onto the miniature golf course last night and heisted the big pumpkin from the fourteenth hole.”

“For real? What the hell would anybody want with a giant pumpkin?”

“Giant pies? Maybe we should check if there’s been a run on whipped cream.” He added in a whisper, “I’m betting on aliens.”

“No, Pablo.”

“I’m telling you, man, this is a weird area. When ET phones home for your butt probe, don’t come crying to me.”

“Don’t you have cars to park?”

Pablo snorted and returned to the parking lot. Hoover thought it over and decided the perpetrators had to be frat boys or coyotes. He hadn’t scented any aliens coming off the highway exit. Yet. He and his sensitive nose returned to work.

Wednesday, June 26, 2013

Ornry Squirrels and Naughty Pups

I do have a bit of flash fiction for you today, but first, a peek at why you should not mess with squirrels:

Squirrel gives snake a beating in backyard brawl

GOLD CANYON, AZ (CBS5) - A Gold Canyon woman called 911 and told the dispatcher there was brawl on her back patio between a gopher snake and a ground squirrel.

And on with the flash fiction. If you haven't read Pat's post from Monday, you might want to do that first.


“That was silly. It sounded too much like a cow!”

“What about this one? Mm-baah woo-hoo!”

Marissa cocked her head to the side as she listened to her darling steps sons in the other room. Wolf pups, she had learned, were not exactly like human children. For instance, you didn’t need to feed wolf pups sugar to make them bounce off the walls. And even the best behaved pup can and will say something horrifyingly rude without notice. She suspected that what the boys were doing right now would fall under the heading of horrifyingly rude. The question was, how to handle this.

She got up, walked into the living room and eyed her little darlings. They were, as usual, sitting cross-legged on the floor, planted directly in front of the TV, with Xbox controllers hermetically sealed to their hands. They only got two hours of TV time a day during the summer and every second of that time was spent played Minecraft, of all things. Marissa eyed the action on the TV screen to see if the unusual sound effects in any way matched what was going on in the game and was not surprised to see that they did not. Yep, definitely going to be something horrifyingly rude.

“Guys,” she said with the most level tone she could manage. Two pair of vibrant blues eyes locked on her. Two nearly identical faces, differing only in hair color, showed mild curiosity but no guilt. That didn’t mean much, Marissa knew. Wolf pups did not consider making rude embarrassing noises something to be guilty about.

“What do you think, Mom. Did that last one sound right?” Thor, the blonde haired twin, asked brightly. Loki, the dark-haired twin, looked sideways at his brother and shook his head. Thor was just like their dad, open, honest and basically clueless about pretty much everything. Loki, on the other hand, was very sharp at reading other people’s body language and while he would feel no guilt over doing something that would embarrass his step-mom, he was savvy enough to know when she was going to get pissed and avoid doing it in her presence.

“What was that sound supposed to be, exactly?” Marissa asked cautiously, clued in by Loki’s behavior that she wasn’t going to like this.

“The sound of romantic bleeping.”

Marissa closed her eyes and mentally counted to ten.

“Romantic what?” she asked carefully, trying to keep her voice level.

“Bleeping,” Thor replied.

“I don’t think Dad said bleeping,” Loki added in. “He made this sound like a sheep with a belly ache.”

“It didn’t sound very romantic, though,” Thor said. “So we were trying to figure out how to make it sound better. So did it sound like romantic bleeping?”

“I wouldn’t know,” she said after a moment. “Why, exactly, did you… How did you…”

“We overheard Dad talking to Uncle Nick,” Loki said.

“In that case, maybe you should ask your dad and Uncle Nick if it sounds right,” Marissa said, shaking her head.



Marissa got up and answered the phone, looking around to make sure her two living wiretaps weren’t around. After this morning’s conversation, she was hyper aware of their tendency to verbally regurgitate everything they overheard and with the ears of wolves, they could accidentally overhear a lot.

“Hello?” she said. The sound coming over the phone sounded suspiciously like muffled giggling. “Hello? Anyone there?” she asked again.

“Oh, gawd! You are never going to believe this!”

“Ziva? What’s up,” Marissa replied.

“Those two hellions of yours!”

Oh no, Marissa thought, her heart sinking into her stomach.

“They showed up here at the paper about ten minutes ago and asked to see their dad. Said they needed to ask him something,” Ziva said and then started giggling again.

“Oh, no,” Marissa said out loud. “The romantic bleeping.”

Ziva started snorting with suppressed laughter and Marissa had to wait for her to catch her breath.

“Oh gawd! Did you know, by chance, that Nick accidentally walked in on Vern and Millie the other day while they were…”

“Making romantic bleeping noises?” Marissa finished dryly. “No, I didn’t. I would not have told the boys to go ask their Dad and Uncle Nick if the noises were right if I had. They overheard Mooney and Nick talking about it on the phone this morning.”

“Well, now my honey has yours trapped at the top of the flag pole.”

“Wait, what?”

“Yep. You know Nick. No one gets away with making fun of an alpha. Mooney started laughing as soon as the boys started their bleeping. The next thing I knew, Mooney was running like hell, giggling like a little girl, with Nick hot on his heels and the twins bringing up the rear…”

Wolf pups, Marissa though. Be they eight-years-old or thirty-eight…

Tuesday, June 25, 2013

Are Wranglers For Sale in Talbot's Peak?

Tuesday howls and yowls, shapeshifter lovers.

Hope summer is treating you right. Okay, since my tigress shapeshifter, Kytaira, decided not to talk this week, I let my imagination run with this flash scene.


Are Wranglers For Sale in Talbot's Peak?

Startled by the sign on the shop's door, Kagaya halted. "Wrangler Apparel On Sale," she repeated beneath her breath -- in case any of the Earth races in Talbot's Peak wondered why she read a sign out loud.

She'd only learned Americanese since arriving at her people's base, about three months ago, according to her cowboy calendar. The long-established Earth research facility Kagaya now called home was hidden deep inside the nearby mountain range.

"Wrangler," she mouthed. Could it be the store was really selling wranglers? Kagaya snatched the primitive e-reader device out of the pocket of her hiking shorts.

Since discovering what were called romance novels, she'd developed a passion for the pretend stories, especially erotic, happily-ever-after westerns.

Using her mind power, Kagaya commanded 'wrangler'. A lineup of ebooks appeared, and she rapidly reviewed the content.

No, Kagaya wrinkled her brow -- not one mention of a wrangler being purchased in a shop. Still...

What if they were being sold? Maybe for ranch work.

If so, she wanted one for her very own... not that she had a ranch for him. Her people did keep several types of animals at the base, including a stable of Earth horses.

Kagaya didn't want to be cruel... yet, if he could adapt, she'd give him a good home.

Staring at the sign again, she tilted her head. 'Apparel,' she assumed that meant the wrangler came fully attired in ranch gear. Wouldn't that be deliciously entertaining? Dressing her very own wrangler in various cowboy outfits.

Dressing, and undressing him. Kagaya hotly shivered inside, her hormones surging like the particle tides in space.

Flashing back to what she'd been taught, Kagaya frowned again. Owning another human being wasn't lawful in America. Then, buying one didn't seem possible...

"Can I help you? You're looking lost," a friendly voice interrupted.

Kagaya smiled at the woman she identified as a wolf shapeshifter by her energy body. "I am new in town."

"Me too, sort of. Shevry is my name." The wolf woman offered her hand.

Kagaya slipped the e-reader inside her pocket, then shook sable-haired woman's hand briefly. "I'm Kagaya. Nice to meet you, Shevry."

"I just arrived for the summer. I was here last year visiting my Aunt Sozchy.  She writes a love advice column for the newspaper, and does a radio show at the Pleasure Club."

"Pleasure Club...yes, I do remember...learning about the club." Kagaya stumbled over her words, the images she'd been shown flitting across her mind. "I've never been there."

"The disco, Dante's Inferno, is one of my favorite hangouts."

"Disco dancing," Kagaya mentally clicked on what that meant, "yes, that does sound fun." With curiosity burning a hole through her, and a craving the size of a giant red star, Kagaya asked, "Have you ever shopped at this store?"

"The Prairie Horseshoe. No, they're new. Hey, I have time. Want to check it out?"

Kagaya nodded in the American way, even though it felt like her head bobbed too fast. Not wanting to appear ignorant, or give away her ET status, Kagaya didn't ask about the wranglers for sale. Instead, she followed Shevry's lead, and they entered the western clothing shop.

"This is the real deal," Shevry remarked.

"Real deal?" Kagaya risked asking.

"Dude, city slicker, rhinestone cowboy," Shevry crooned with a twang. "No, this clothing is for the working man. Man and woman."

"Real wranglers," Kagaya murmured, catching sight of a tall man who fit the bill, as the saying went. He stood at the back of the store, studying a rack of cowboy boots.

She sensed three other presences. Obviously, there was no corral filled with wranglers waiting for homes. Kagaya viscerally felt her disappointment.

She wondered if there was what was called photos or videos instead. She could make a selection, view them, then choose... should she inquire?

Or would she look like a giant prize fool? Was there a difference between enslavement and making a purchase on Earth, in America?

Confusion clouded her thoughts, unusual for Kagaya. Clear thinking, solving the unsolvable was her special talent, what she gave to her people -- and one reason she'd been sent to the Earth base for the duration of the transition, this time of 'chaos-trembling'.

A gently rounded, pretty woman, likely the proprietor, called out, "I'm Lilah. Holler if you  need help. Otherwise, make yourselves at home, and have a look around."

"Thank you, we will," Shevry called back, then moved toward a wall of shelving that held what Kagaya identified as denims or jeans.

"You know," Shevry continued, "I could use some wranglers. I signed up for the weekend trail ride at Merry and Dash's dude ranch."

"Do they have wranglers at this dude ranch?" Kagaya dared to ask.

"They sure do, ma'am." The man spoke in a deep drawling timbre. "Pardon, I couldn't help but overhear."

Kagaya whirled, face to face with the tall cowboy. She had to catch her swiftly escaping breaths.  He could easily have stepped into the role as her fantasy romance hero.

"Are you a wrangler?" And are you for sale? she silently asked.

"I'll be doing some wrangling, helpin' out Merry and Dash. I sure do hope I can persuade you to join in. Right, Shevry?"

"Deuce, Deuces wild." Shevry spoke teasingly. "Where did you come from? Last I knew from my aunt you'd high-tailed it down Arizona way."

"Summer in Arizona, nope, not in the cards. Besides, the Peak was callin' my name. Now I know why."

His direct gaze penetrated Kagaya, then embraced her good and tight. Unused to this level of boldness from a man, she took a step back.

By his frequency Deuce was not only a puma shapeshifter, but a dimensional traveler. Even now, he'd  lessened his physical density. No wonder she hadn't heard his steps, or sensed his approach.

Goddess, Kagaya wanted to close her eyes for a moment, savor the outdoor virile smell of him. Instead, she blurted out like a giant fool, "The sign says 'Wrangler Apparel On Sale'. Does that mean you're for sale, since you wrangle?"

In the following silence, mortification felt as if it burned Kagaya alive. She should have done more studying before venturing into Talbot's Peak.

If it wouldn't have made the situation worse, Kagaya would have altered her vibration, and transported herself back to the base. As it was, she needed a quick solution. "I...I have an appointment. If you'll excuse me."

Hoping she'd acted according to custom, Kagaya spun on her heel toward the door.

After a few strides, a firm large hand claimed her elbow. "I'll walk you to your appointment."

"No need," she began.

"I'm feeling a decided need. You are the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. I'm even thinkin' of putting myself up for sale. And I'll wear Wrangler jeans whenever you want."


Wishing you shapeshifting love on the wild side… 


Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance


Monday, June 24, 2013

The End of Innocence

Nick came back from his early lunch earlier than expected. He burst into the newsroom, charged straight through to his office without yelling at or even looking at anyone, and slammed the door behind him. The staff watched the office door warily, waiting for the boss’s re-emergence and explosion. But tense minutes dragged by without so much as a bark from Nick, or any sound at all.

As one, the staff transferred their stares to Ziva.

She had no answers for them. She thought she’d seen her mate’s features harbor every conceivable expression, but that look of stark horror on his pale face had been new. What had he seen out there on the streets? What new disaster had decided to visit Talbot’s Peak?

She held up her hand to forestall the barrage of questions. “I’ll take care of it.”

Cautiously Ziva knocked, and even more cautiously entered the office. Nick could snap anybody else’s head off if he chose, but Ziva would snap back and he knew it. Braced for the worst, she looked around. The office appeared to be empty. “Nick?”

A small sound, like the whimper of a kicked puppy, oozed out from under Nick’s treasured hardwood teacher’s desk. Ziva stepped around the desk. Somehow, Nick had managed to cram his broad-shouldered body into the leg well. He had his arms wrapped around his knees and his face hidden by both.

Ziva knelt beside Nick’s hiding place. “Honey, are you okay?”

“No,” Nick growled. “I’m not okay. I’ll never be okay again.”

“Can you tell me what happened?”


“I’m tough,” Ziva assured him. “I can take it.”

“Yeah?” He lifted his head from his knees. Some color, mostly red, had returned to his face. “Fine. I went over to the Grease ‘N’ Grill for lunch, and to see Dad. It wasn't open yet, so I went in the back. I heard these sounds coming from the office. I thought maybe he’d fallen or something. He’s getting up there, you know.”

Ziva nodded, and waited. After a deep breath, Nick continued. “So I get to the office, and he’s in there. With her. That herbivore he insists on calling his wife.”

“She is his wife,” Ziva said. “Her name is Elly, and she’s a good woman and a fine lady. She’s good for your father.”

“Good, yeah. Good enough to pin him up against the wall and—head butt him. You know, bighorn style.”

“They were--?” The light dawned. “Oh. Oh.”

“And she was making this noise. Like a bleat, but … sexy. A sexy bleat.” He moved his hands as well as he could in the cramped space, like he was trying to see, hear and speak no evil all at the same time. “Lupa help me, why didn’t I just go blind when I had the chance?” He glowered up at Ziva. “Are you laughing? You’d better not be laughing.”

“I’m not laughing. Sweetie, it’s a perfectly natural act between two people who truly love each other. And a lot of fun, as you should know.”

“But he’s my father. He’s so old. He’ll break something. Or,” he snarled in a dark voice, “she’ll break something off.”

“No, she won’t. Miss Elly takes good care of your dad. I’d say today was the proof.”

“You’re not helping.”

“Then look at it this way: now you know what you’ll be like in forty years or so. And what you’ll be capable of. Somehow I don’t think that apple’s going to roll too far from the tree.”

“But she—she’s—”

“She’s his wife,” Ziva said gently, “and he loves her. Married people do those things, even at that age. Even your dad. You’re just going to have to suck it up and accept it.”

“Accept my dad humping a herbie? If I wanted to hump a herbie, would you be so friggin’ understanding?”

“Of course not. I’d rip the bitch’s throat out. But that’s a different situation. You’re not married. Yet. Now, are you going to come out from under that desk, or do I have to come in after you?” Nick didn’t move. “Don’t make me get the ruler.”

“Okay, okay.” Ziva scooted back so Nick could climb out. He straightened with obvious discomfort. “Ow. Don’t tell me Dad can handle that, um, level of activity at his age. He should—”

“He should do whatever he wants, and you should be happy for him.” Ziva picked up a ruler and tapped it warningly against the edge of the desk. “Are you going to be all right, or do I need to hang around?”

“I’m fine. I’m dealing. Look how well I’m dealing.” He eyed the ruler longingly. “Maybe just a swat.”

“Maybe after you’ve calmed down.” Ziva darted in to give his neck a quick lick. “So I can get you all hot and bothered again.”

After Ziva left him Nick stood beside the desk, alternately shaking and seething. His whole existence had just been turned inside out. Nobody did that to an alpha wolf with impugnity. He couldn’t punish his father or even his father’s wife. But he had to make somebody miserable.

A slow, evil smile took over Nick’s face. He grabbed for his phone. He had several unlisted numbers on speed dial, in case of family emergency. He hit one now.

“Hannibal,” he purred when the bighorn picked up. “I just saw your ma. Guess what she was doing?”

Sunday, June 23, 2013

SNEAK PEEK SUNDAY: Her Midnight Stardust Cowboys ~ Chapter Seven

Her Midnight Stardust Cowboys

Chapter Seven:
His sexy Texas drawl curled her cold toes... 

His sexy Texas drawl curled her cold toes, and warmed Sherilyn in ways the hearth's cheerful fire never could. And she loved fireplaces. This one was a true beaut.

Fresh pine boughs seasonally decorated the mantle, along with scarlet ribbon, and sprigs of red berries, a kind she didn't recognize. The scene before her felt like an invitation to snuggle deep in the cushions, belong.

Sherilyn knew better. So what if Zance made her come alive...apparently for real. Sherilyn still struggled to wrap her brain around that miracle. But, he made her feel alive in ways she'd fought, and wanted nothing to do with ever again.

She hated denying her woman's needs--stomping on her desire for love and passion. Yet, what choice did she have? Really? Her few relationships had gone badly sour, and now she'd only be endangering any man she loved, or cared for a great deal.

To steal her horses, the Templetons, or their hired thugs, wouldn't hesitate to commit murder, as long as they could away with it. That was the reality Sherilyn lived with every moment of everyday.

Now Zance, a cowboy stud beyond belief--as in making her breathless and molten in all the right places--moved toward her intent on taking her boots off.

For more Sunday Sneak Peaks


Wishing you shapeshifting love on the wild side… 


Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance

Saturday, June 22, 2013

The Eyes Have It

Blackie, aka Tawny, couldn’t remember the last time she’d taken human form.  Escaping with her life intact made more sense than letting the slave traders capture her.  Even then she knew shifting might cause more problems than she anticipated.  Three long interstellar years in cat form hadn’t deterred her decision to travel three planets and several thousand light years in distance from her home world to escape to a potential new beginning.  The stars in the tail of Ursa Major caught her attention every Solstice.  This one was no different.

She padded quietly across the beige carpet of Gil’s bedroom and leapt up toward the king-sized bed that held one snoring male.  She landed on the side opposite him as he lay on his back.  Even with his mouth open and the loud noises erupting forth, Blackie couldn’t take her eyes off him.   His blond hair and brown eyes intrigued her.  His soft rubs and pets as she lay on the desk as he worked or beside him in the bed felt wonderful and turned her on in ways she hadn’t thought about in ten Microean decades.

He stood a head taller than she did in humanoid form.  Yet, his milky toned skin underneath his outer trappings set off a glow deep in her belly and between her hind legs.  The rest of his brown coloration matched the small creatures she watched through the window.  Two of them had chewed on her lovely tail leaving matted bits of fur and breaks in her pristine coat.  Others had brought her bits of food and showed her humans who took pity on her feeding or housing her until they moved on stating they couldn’t take her with them.  

 That was until he came along.  He’d fed her and taken her to a place where other animals showed up with their humans who called the female in the white coat doctor.   From there, he’d stuffed her in that horrible box with the bars on the front of it.  No matter how much she howled and hissed, he petted her and kept reassuring her everything would be all right.

Gil turned over, blinked, and opened his eyes.  Beside him lay the most delectable cafe-au-lait colored woman.  Her long black hair fell in waves of curls down to her shoulders and her eyes were the color of two bright stars.  And those luscious red lips. . .

Gil reached down to tug the covers away from his crotch.  She watched his every move.  A smile slowly appeared as he shifted beneath the sheet refusing to move away from his erection.  Talk about an obvious tent pole.  Maybe if he looked---oh hell she was as naked as he was under the covers.  Gil blinked again yawning as his eyes slammed shut.  Damn, when had his dreams become this vivid and sexy?

Happy Weekend Gang!

Oh my goodness!  Has Gil found a new admirer?  A new relationship happening?  And Blackie is extra-terrestrial?

The Spice Homestead is ready for summer and the lazy hazy days it brings here in the Mid-Atlantic region.   As you contemplate your summer reading remember to share a good book or two with your loves and spice!  I am and will do the same!



Friday, June 21, 2013

The Beauty Surrounding Talbot's Peak

Well, no flash from me today, sorry.  The week has flown in a flurry of Harry Potters, Dr. Who's, music and mandatory reading.  Summer at home with Darling Diva is a magical time for us both, but leaves me backlogged on the writing side.  It matters not though as I would give up anything to have this time with her.

Now just because I don't have a flash doesn't mean I don't have something to share...

It seems our fine town of Talbot's Peak has lots of photogs who adore documenting the beauty around them.

These lovelies came from* our very own Jamie, the G&B photographer. It seems he has divised a way to attach a strap to his camera and take it with him in wolf form wherever he goes so as not to miss a thing.

So inventive!  Another reason Lamar is so intrigued by the gentle red wolf.

 Is it any wonder why shapeshifters are drawn to the wonderous wilderness Montana provides?  The privacy, the greenery and waterways abound.  They can run for miles, hunting is plentiful and the skies are clear.

Here is home and it is worth fighting for with teeth and claw, brawn and brain.  Welcome to Talbot's Peak - Enjoy the views!

*Really the author found them on Pinterest.  :)


Have a great weekend!


Wednesday, June 19, 2013

Bye, Manscape. Hello Saba

Ok, so I admit it. I got bored with the Manscape Mike story, mostly because the characters stopped talking to me. Barbie is turning out to be a whiny twit and Mike is only interested in huge squash. I also recently became somewhat obsessed with a different story idea. Oh, well. Off on some other tangent.

The new story idea is a little out there and began with the idea of a wizard named Rasputin getting a wild hair up his but to try to make an angel out of a human using alchemy and modern science. I have no idea if this would appeal to anyone else out there but hopefully it won’t bug anyone.


    Saba became aware of the sharp pain that began with pin pricks in his finger tips and ending with a deep burning fire in his shoulders. His last memory was of that crazy wizard murmuring over him as the Big Ugly Things, or B.U.T.s for short, held him face down on the floor. He remembered the feel of the black sickle-bladed knife carving into the flesh on either side of his backbone and the feeling of having his flesh peeled back. He remembered the horror of more B.U.T.s bringing a pair of huge black wings when the wizard called for them. He remembered a pain so intense he screamed himself raw as the wizard implanted the wing stubs into his back. Then… nothing.

He tried to open his eyes but found them glued shut by eye goobers. Carefully, he lifted a hand and wiped the crust away with as little movement as possible. He looked around the room and saw a mirror directly across from him, probably put there deliberately by Rasputin. That insane little wizard was obscenely pleased with the modifications he’d made to Saba’s body and made sure to show him every horrible step of the transformation where Saba wanted to see it or not. The sight that greeted him was both as horrifying as usual and strangely beautiful at the same time. Or it would be beautiful if it wasn’t his carcass strung up, anyway.

He was dangling several feet off the floor, being held aloft by a chain that was attached to a collar. As soon as he saw the chain, he became aware of a less impatient pain in his rectum. A side glance at other mirrors allowed him to catch a rear view. The chain passed through a loop at the back of the collar, was held to his back by a pair of chains that looped over the front of his shoulders and fastened to it with a large padlock. The chain ended with what looked like the end of a meat hook, or part of one. The pain in his rectum told Saba where the rest of the hook was and what was supporting the bulk of his weight.


This was a prime example of why that wizard was bugnuts insane. Did he have to dangle Saba by a chain with a hook in his ass to allow the wings to heal? No. He could have allowed him to lay face down on a bed or a pallet on the floor. He could have even allowed him to rest on one of the upright massage chairs. But no. Rasputin had hung him from the ceiling like a goddamed ham.

Saba did have to admit, begrudgingly, that he made a very shockingly beautiful sight, though, with the jet black wings tied to the chain above his head for support. He looked like a real life painting of a fallen angel being tortured. Of course, that was exactly the look Rasputin had been aiming for…

Tuesday, June 18, 2013

Tigress Shapeshifter ~ I am a killer... but never of innocents...

Tuesday howls and yowls, shapeshifter lovers.

The summer solstice is almost here, and there's what is called a super moon this coming weekend. Enjoy the summer months ahead. The year is speeding by so fast I can barely keep track of it.

This is the third installment starring my tigress heroine, Kytaira, and her black tiger man, Zurroc.

Tigress Shapeshifter ~ I am a killer... but never of innocents...

Continued from last week ~

"What the shooting star! How can they do this? Those people need help." I re-read the small article. "If my head wasn't firmly attached, it would be spinning, then orbiting around the moon."

"As we know, suffering seems to be of no consequence to those who live like the Earth kings of old." Zurroc's tone condemns.

"Yeah, let them eat cake," I mutter.


Moodiness claims me as I watch NYC's familiar skyline disappear. A dismal gray haze has captured the Big Apple already. "Like a foreshadowing," I say.

Zurroc slides the moving truck into the steady of stream of traffic on the freeway. He has become an expert driver of Earth's primitive vehicles. A valuable skill, since I have little patience for it.

"We both know the signs, my tigress."

"The odor of decay, of death was everywhere... I wish..." I halt my words knowing they will not bring the miracles I would wish for -- so many innocents, yet their fate has been sealed. Unless they choose to leave.

As tigress, I am a killer at heart. But never of innocents -- never those who live with good and generous hearts. Then, my nature is to protect, to rescue.

I rumble a soft moan, and remove my gaze from the outer-edge, decaying buildings we pass by. A part of me mourns for what will be.

"It's time for us to join forces with those who roar with life."

Zurroc's alpha power sensuously tingles my blood as he speaks.

"Right you are, my tiger man. I'm looking forward to Talbot's Peak, being with those who build and create the future as it should be."

I crumple the empty cellophane bag, shoving it in the small trash container. Earlier, Zurroc and I polished off the buffalo jerky.

"Still hungry?" I ask, then fish through our goody bag in search of what will hit the spot. With the days of packing and logistics planning, Zurroc and I skimped on meals.

"The turkey and pumpkin treats," he answers helpfully.

"Arf, ruff," I badly imitate a dog's bark. Quickly, I locate the large bag of organic pet treats both of us have developed a real fondness for.

"Open," I say, once I'm poised and ready to toss one of the nuggets.

Without taking his gaze off the road, Zurroc slightly tilts his head back, then parts his lips.

"Score," I triumphantly yowl, as the treat vanishes inside his mouth.

Satisfying my hunger, I munch on the tasty nuggets, passing them one by one to Zurroc. As I enjoy, I can't help but think about the Oklahomans who have been tornado-ravaged. About the generosity of the Canadians who tried to send them food and aid.

My anger gets a solid foothold. I scowl at the high-handed pettiness, the power-tripping stupidity of the border guards.  

"Side trip, love?" Zurroc asks, reading my thoughts.

I don't answer immediately, taking time to contemplate the consequences that could arise if we hunt down the Canadian truck full of food. In the end, it proves to be a futile effort in the face of my rising anger -- my fierce desire for a kindly justice.

"Canada, here we come," I say, my words clipped, ferocious. "People cared enough to give to others. That sacred act should be respected."

Zurroc growls ominously, his righteous rage fueled. "Convoy," he utters.

"If that truckload of food can't be tracked, or... whatever, yes, absolutely a convoy. We'll gather up supplies, more food." My jaw firms with savage determination. 

"Nothing like a change in plans to fire the blood." Zurroc's hand tightens on the steering wheel.

"Nothing like coffee to fire up my brain synapses," I say, reaching for the thermos, and mugs.

This time, as we roll smoothly, locked in the traffic grid, I pour the dark fragrant liquid into our mugs, and pass one to Zurroc. We sip companionably.

"We could encounter a strong military response." Zurroc lowers his mug, resting it on top of his thigh.

"Good thing we have time to plan for that likely contingency."

Balancing my mug, I reach for the know-it-all globe, as I affectionately call the bio-device that carries a wealth of knowledge about Earth. The globe sits in my palm, and warms at my touch.

"I estimate leaving this traffic behind in about an hour, my Kytaira. Then, I'll super-charge the engine, lessen our driving time."

"That's my tiger man. Pedal to the metal. Are you up to watching out for the highway patrol smokies?"

"Keep feeding me, and the answer is yes."

I finish off my coffee, make certain the thermos is capped, then bend over searching for what Zurroc calls his mind-power food. The wild-game formula is from Dante, and dried for convenience.

Once I've opened the jar, and set it in the holder for Zurroc, I lift the globe activating it with my gaze. Sparks of light move like shooting stars.

"I'll map out the route to the border crossing, and gather all the available data on our save-the-food operation."

"I'll concentrate on driving, and keeping the smokies off our tail," Zurroc intones seriously, yet dry amusement colors his voice. 

"I love the way you drive. More coffee?" I retrieve Zurroc's empty mug.

"Save the coffee for later. You love the way I drive only because you don't want to do it." Zurroc's tone is bantering.

"Partly true. I will admit. But I find it manly, and I do love watching you." My heart thumps faster, warming with how much I feel -- the intensity of my passion.

"You're distracting the driver in a highly desirable way," Zurroc intimately growls, his passion obvious.

"Okay, I can take a hint. No more distracting..." I've leaned toward the small ice chest.  Rummaging about briefly, I pull out my prized bottle of raw milk.

"Storage facilities," Zurroc states several miles later.

I lower the bottle of milk, glancing at him. "Do you mean at the border?"

"Storage of what's been confiscated. There could be a goldmine, as the Earthers say, of food and other supplies."

I nod, pondering. "What hasn't been sold on Ebay, or the black market. Later, I'll do a mind-reconnaissance. Find out." When another thought pops to the surface, I say, "Perhaps, Valiant Thor can be persuaded to assist if there is a motherload of supplies."

"Has he returned from Venus?" Zurroc reaches for my hand, and our palms mate.

"We were in the midst of packing. His telepathic message slipped my mind. But, yes, he's on his ship orbiting Earth as we speak."

Zurroc thumbs my palm lazily. He rumbles a knowing laugh when the bio globe I've placed on my lap glows, blazes red, then fills the truck cab with a dazzling light.

"Stop that," I order the globe. "We're supposed to be traveling incognito."




Wishing you shapeshifting love on the wild side… 


Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance