Monday, September 30, 2013

Breaking Up is Hard to Do

Bethany clung to her boyfriend Jordan and didn’t even try to fight the tears. Maybe if she held him tight enough she could keep her heart from shattering. “You can’t leave!” she wailed. “You just can’t. School’s starting.”

Jordan patted her awkwardly. “Don’t cry,” he pleaded. “Geez, Beth. I told you this would happen when we started dating. My family always heads south this time of year. We’ll be back in March, I promise.”

“That’s like a million years away. What’ll I do until then?”

“I dunno. Hey, I don’t like it either.”

“Then stay here. Stay in Talbot’s Peak. You can live with us. We never use the guest room.”

“I can’t,” he said wretchedly. “It’s my family. No,” he stopped her before she could wail again. “You can’t come with us. You’re fourteen. You’ll get the whole flock arrested. Look, I’ll email you every day. We can Skype. It’s just Nevada. It’s not like I’ll be in Europe or somewhere.”

“It’s not the same.” She squeezed him even tighter. “I want to be with you. I love you.”

“I love you too, Beth.” He kissed her hard and sloppily, but it didn’t help. She shoved away from him and fled, trailing hot, bitter tears in her wake.

# # #

Every time she had a crisis Bethany went straight to her sister Stacey. Stacey was seventeen and knew everything about everything. She knew enough not to ask questions when Bethany burst into her room. She sat her younger sister down on her bed and held her while she cried out her heartache. Every couple of minutes she offered a Kleenex.

Once the initial deluge abated and Bethany was able to speak without too much of a hitch, she sobbed out the crux of her misery. “Jordan broke up with me!”

“Jordan Mallard?” Stacey nodded wisely. “Yeah. It’s fall. I’m sorry, sweetie, but you had to know this was going to happen.”

“I thought he loved me.”

“I’m sure he does. I’ll bet he wasn’t happy either, was he? But he is what he is. You can’t fight instinct. I know. I used to date a Canada goose. The seasons change and they’re gone. It’s not you, it’s how they are. The Mallards, the Drakes, the Mergansers, they’re all pulling out. All the love in the world can’t stop them.” Stacey sat back a few inches to look her sister sternly in the face. “You’d better not be thinking about running away.”

“I wasn’t,” Bethany sniffled. Her hesitation said otherwise.

“C’mon, hon, it’s not so bad. If he really cares, you’ll hear from him. If he doesn’t, you’re better off. Anyway, it’s not forever. He’ll be back in the spring.” She whispered in her sister’s ear. “Just in time for prom.”

“But that’s so far away,” Bethany blew her nose into a Kleenex. “What am I supposed to do without him?”

“Weren’t you going to try out for cheerleading? He wouldn’t be with you there, would he? Or on the girls’ volleyball team.”

“Yeah. He sucks at volleyball.” She giggled a little through her tears. “But I’ll miss him.”

“I know you will, sweetie. I missed my gander for, like, ten minutes. Of course, he was a dickhead to start with. Jordan always struck me as okay. Except for the wet. He always seemed damp for some reason. Swim team?”


“Right.” Stacey offered up another Kleenex. Bethany waved it away. There might be several minor eruptions in the days to come, but the main storm appeared to be over.

“Do you think he has a girl down there?” Bethany asked.

“I’m thinking we have boys up here. Boys who stay put. How do you feel about fur?”

Friday, September 27, 2013

Dressing Up & Hanging Out, Size Does Matter

Little mink eyes watched as his Mistress, and her friend Ziva, dressed for tonight’s entertainment.  They never gave a thought to him still being in the room and one thing he could safely say was that Nick was one lucky SOB and an even bigger ass. 

“Ziva, turn around and give us a full frontal of your world-class body in that outfit.”

Danny agreed.  Ziva was built in a way that could make an alpha male drop to his knees and promise her the world.  It would also make a beta mink weep with the unfairness of said world.  He would never be enough for Ziva; he was barely enough for Mistress P.

“Not funny, Penny” Ziva said, tugging at the barely there top Danny would love to stick his head inside.

“Stop tugging and let me see.”  Mistress slapped Ziva’s hands away from her chest and pulled her close with the open eyelets in the fabric descending between her luscious tits.  Mink genitalia made itself known when his colorful bird stuck her hands down along wolf breasts and made them move. 
“Lift and separate, sweets.”   

“Been waiting long to give me a grope, Penny?”

“Eons…  And that Mistress to you, Z.”

“I’m hanging out, Mistress.”

“You look beautiful.”

“My nipples are showing.”

Danny praised all the higher beings he could think of for the bounty they had provided.

“Just the tops of your areolas, Z, not the nips.”

“Why can’t I wear my own leathers?”

“Those are ones you use with Nick.  Tonight you are going to experience a Texas Longhorn.  A Longhorn, Z.  You want something that doesn’t have wolf musk on it.”

“I’m a wolf, Mistress.”

“Okay, male wolf musk.”


Mistress turned to him and pointed a fabulously painted nail in his direction, her hand signal one he knew.  Danny used his sharp claws to carefully climb the arm covered in leather and wrap himself around her neck.  “Now, my Apẻritif,” she stroked his head and whispered into his ear.  Without our Penguino here for protection you will stay in this room, you may order one thing from the kitchen…you may not pleasure yourself in either human or mink form.  Yes, I saw you checking out Ziva. 
When I return, I shall show you what naughty minks earn from their Mistress’.

Danny scurried down Mistress P’s arm just as gently as he’d climbed up, a little mink grin on his face.  She would show him the love when she returned, did that also mean she would not be partaking of this new toys goodies?

“Let’s go Z.  It’s time to find out if everything is bigger in Texas!”
Here's to hoping Mistress P finds what she's looking for, Nick hears about what Ziva is doing and feels great guilt and Danny really does only order one thing from room service!

Have a great weekend!

Wednesday, September 25, 2013

Hot twist on a werewolf story!

Ok, so I read this book called "Charming (Pax Arcana)" by Elliott James. It just came out yesterday and despite having a day job with precluded me reading during the day, I've already finished it. Let me say, for a "non-romance" book, this one had some seriously delicious romance going on! It also had a rather unique spin on both the Prince Charming legend and werewolves in general.

Once upon a time, there was an family of hero monster hunters who were sworn to dispatch anything that endangered the Pax Arcana, a massive spell that kept the world of mortals and the supernatural world separate. One day, a hero monster hunter made a mistake. He dispatched an out-of-control werewolf but thinking it had been a lone wolf, and being in a hurry to get back home to his wife who was heavily pregnant and over-due, he didn't watch his back trail. He carelessly led the dead wolf's pack mates to his home and they killed him, but not before making him watch them bite his wife, thereby turning her. As the transformation into a wolf would surely kill both his weakened wife and unborn child, it was a very harsh punishment indeed.

Flash forward several decades: the child did not, in fact die. He was raised by his father's order or monster hunting buddies and watched very closly to make sure he didn't become a wolf. Eventually, they decided he was fine and he became a Knight Templar like his father before him. The decision was premature. He was a werewolf and despite years of hard pursuit, they were never able to catch up to him.

The story begins with our tarnished hero, John Charming, living under an assumed name and tending bar in the deep south. He lives as far off the radar as he can and makes as few waves as he can in the hope that he can fine a little peace before his former brothers-in-arms find him again and resume their holy war against him. He's still a knight, technically at least, and he's still a sworn monster hunter despite being a werewolf. That, a knock-out blonde viking warrior maiden and an out-of-control blood sucking vampire that's too stupid to live ensures his attempt to fine peace is short-lived.

Five stars, easy. This book is awesome. It's a fun twist on a theme that sometimes doesn't see too many truly fresh ideas. The stunted romance between John, who has more emotional baggage than an airplane's overhead compartment, and Sig, who wants him but is kind of in a relationship with an insane psychic with a jealous streak a mile wide and no qualms with killing his romantic rivals, is sizzling and funny at the same time. As I said, this wasn't written to be a 'romance" but the author managed to write a story rich with passion anyway. It's strictly PG-13, with nothing heavier than some make-out sessions in a dark car, but any fan of romance will tell you that a n interesting plot combines with fun characters who have great chemistry makes a story, not the number of times folks end up doing the pokey. Go ahead and check this out out! Also of note, this author has several novellas set in this "universe" that tell John's back story, most for ninety-nine cents!

Tuesday, September 24, 2013

Duke Zon, Black Wolf Shapeshifter

Tuesday howls and yowls, shapeshifter lovers.
So, here's the deal. I had an idea for a Big Foot flash scene, which I began writing. However, I'm exhausted after a long day of unexpected problems. So... instead here's Chapter Two from my WIP currently titled, The Black Wolf’s Prophetess -- starring Sondra and Duke, a wolf shapeshifter. And, yes, it is UNEDITED.


Duke Zon sauntered toward The Red Rock Den, his town’s noon to late-night hangout. The large private room at the back served as the common meeting ground for the males of his Virgo Moon Clan, and had for the last hundred and thirty years only when they stayed in human form, however.

For an instant he halted in his tracks. The raw alpha musk of Duke’s two older brothers, Thor and Tibur, boded trouble, the kind where they would all simultaneously shift to wolves and attack each other in a ferocious, all-out battle for rule of the pack.

Not what Duke wanted. His hackles raised, a painful sensation on the human flesh of his back. With his fight hormones flooding him, he mentally put the brakes on and felt another twist of pain. Determined to face Thor and Tibur down without combat, he gripped the door handle and strode inside.

Moving from early afternoon’s bright sunlight into the interior dimness of a cave, Duke instinctively stopped. His eyesight adjusted rapidly, though not as fast as he could sniff their exact location, almost directly opposite his position.

His brother’s faced each other, turning in tandem at his entrance, and Duke realized they’d agreed to join forces against him. Thor and Tibur had always worked hand-in-paw, so it shouldn’t have surprised him greatly. Still, the reality ripped through him as if he’d been struck by a lightning bolt.

He’d have to fight them both, not one and then the other. That is, if he really wanted alpha leadership.

Keeping the growl at the back of his throat tamped down, Duke challenged, “The reason for this meeting?” 

“The future of our pack needs to be decided.” Tibur used his diplomatic tone.

“Why?” Duke raised his brow and aggressively moved toward his brothers. “Is there dissatisfaction with your decisions, Thor? Now, me, personally, I haven’t heard any snarling rumbles against you. How about you, Tibur? Heard anything against Thor he needs to know about?”

Tibur shot an uneasy glance at Thor, then eyed Duke again. “It’s not about dissatisfaction. Except with the females wanting to breed and bond. And we all know that situation.”

“We all do, don’t we?” Duke’s human canines bared themselves as he gutturally continued his confrontation. “Thor won’t choose a mate yet. He’s balling them all to the wall or chasing them in the woods and humping their beautiful hides.”

Thor’s night-black eyes gleamed to amber, then narrowed to slits. He growled a low warning. “Lykkoz knows I haven’t found my true mate.”

“Whatever your excuse, brother, don’t slash my hide over it. If, and when I want  to be Alpha King around here, I’ll let you know. Until then, consider yourself unopposed.”

Charging toward each other, Duke and Thor snarled viciously, their noses inches apart. Clenching his hands into fists, Duke willed his tail not erupt. Once that occurred the shift to full wolf was on, and unstoppable.

Snapping a growl, Tibur shoved between them. “Not here. Not now.”

“No, Thor wouldn’t want it here and now. He’s panting for it in the arena, a spectacle of blood, saliva and hunks of fur for the whole clan.”

“Duke.” Tibur swivelled his gaze to him, his eyes somber with purpose. “Everyone in the pack knows the time has arrived. Your maturation reeks. For the sake of the pack-- ”

Duke thundered a growl interrupting his brother. “For the sake of the pack why don’t I just roll over and let you two dine on my entrails?” Harshly breathing and close to panting, Duke stared Tibur into temporary submission. “Pay attention to my words, brothers. If, and when I decide to be Alpha King, I’ll let you both know. I’ll make a formal announcement. Thor can prepare for his bloodlust public spectacle.”

Witnessing the sudden glints of restraint in Thor’s eyes, Duke eased back a step. 

If nothing else, his oldest brother possessed a superior intelligence. He knew Duke had  outmaneuvered him by pointing out the ruling advantage of winning in the arena. Of course, he and Tibur would attack him first, wearing his strength down, so Thor could dominate, stand over him in victory, before the bloodthirsty gazes of their pack.

Moments later, Thor slowly grinned in wolfish acceptance. As he took a step back, the promise of future battle glittered ominously in his gaze.

Gradually backing out of the room, Duke eyed Tibur and Thor with his own savagery. In a way, he’d dreaded this day, never possessing the ambition to conquer and rule like Thor. Yet, his nature didn’t allow him to submit.

The actual fight for supremacy held no concern for him. He’d play-battled his brothers to a standstill, often, and especially in their recent wrestling contests, whether as wolves or as men. His maturation, as Tibur has spoken it, surpassed the physical strength of both his brothers. And they well knew it, as did everyone in their clan, as well as the other wolf shifter clans living in the central wilds of Montana.

Once he stood clear of the door, Duke spun around, knowing his brothers wouldn’t follow. More dangerous, though, Lana, Elise and Meredith, stood on the raised veranda of the females’ meeting room, actually an elegantly appointed lounge hidden within the plain brick walls of the two story building.

Lykkoz! grant him wisdom! The three prime females, available for mating, obviously scented him to discover his mood and his state of mind. As he strode toward his all-terrain jeep, their gazes followed and Duke felt his skin prickle with their speculations. Their pungent  fragrances tantalized his drive to mate, yet held no sway over his larger purpose to create his future as he wanted it with the Virgo Moon Clan.

Great Goddess watch over him, Duke hoped none of them approached with questions, or worse, an invitation to choose them as his mate if he did become the ruling alpha.

He’d run with Lana in his youth before her elevation in breeding status. They’d indulged in carnal play as wolves and humans. At the time, it had been good between them, a wild sweetness he still treasured. Yet, he’d felt no forever-attraction to her, as the connection was phrased. He didn’t fiercely hunger for any wolf shifter woman he’d met. In that way, he could understand Thor and his refusal to choose a mate.

Swinging around the corner, Duke saw trouble with a capital T and her name was Tess. Lana’s younger sister had seductively arranged her lithe-as-an-Arab-wolfess body on the hood of his jeep. Not slowing his step, he halted a few feet from her.

“Tess?” He arched one brow, hooked his thumb in the pocket of his low-slung jeans and waited.

Her sapphire and yellow eyes glittered on his face as she judged his reaction. Straightening, she gave up the pretense. “I’m operating as a proxy for Lana.”

“You’ve jumped the ditch too soon, little one. Thor reigns unchallenged. Lana could not belong to me as Mate.”

Visibly Tess deflated, slumping against the side of his jeep. “Hell’s lowered tail,” she grumbled.

Duke realized he crossed raging water, still he asked, “Tess, what’s wrong?”

“Oh, what does it matter now?” She shrugged. “Everyone knows, well, I guess not you. But, you’re a loner when it comes to...” Halting her flow of words, she shoved from his jeep and stood proudly. “I favor your brother, Tibur. And, I can’t chase him or let him chase me until Lana is chosen.”

Duke gave a nod.  “I thought Tibur focused on one of his intellectual pursuits. He must be thirsting like the devil for your company.”

After a moment of silence, Tess asked, “What are you going to do?”

“Decide soon.” Duke walked around his hood slowly. “And let nature take it’s course.”


Wishing you shapeshifting love on the wild side… 


Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance 

Monday, September 23, 2013

Class Project

Our Family: A report by Brett and Coby McMahon for Mrs. Jennett’s 3rd Period English Class
Words by Coby McMahon
Video by Brett McMahon

My name is Coby McMahon. My brother Brett and I live part of the time with our mom and most of the time here in Talbot’s Peak with our dad and his wife. Everybody calls us Loki and Thor because those names are cooler than Coby and Brett. We want Mom and Dad to change our names for Christmas.

(Video: A young woman with blue hair smiles, realizes there’s a camera on her, and holds up her hand)

This is dad’s wife, Marissa. She’s human, but she’s a witch too, so the human part isn’t as bad as it sounds. She makes coffee at Java Joe’s. She works for Lex, who brews up weird potions in his office and lets us do taste tests, but Marissa says we can’t drink what he gives us any more because some of it might be dangerous. Lex calls us his “minions.” He says that means “assistants.” Marissa calls Lex a word that sounds like assistant but she told us we’re not allowed to repeat it.

(Video: Two good-looking men smile for the camera. They laugh and punch each other playfully on the arm. The punches turn violent. Growling is heard. The video cuts off abruptly.)

This is our dad, Mooney, and our uncle Nick. Uncle Nick runs the newspaper and Dad writes about sports, which is really great for Thor and me because we get to see all the games. Uncle Nick’s an alpha wolf, so he’s really snappy all the time. Dad’s a beta. They take care of the alpha. Marissa runs the house, so I guess she’s our alpha. They don’t fight like Mom and Dad used to, so Thor and I are a lot happier. Dad says Uncle Nick would be a lot happier if he’d just marry his girlfriend Ziva and get it over with. Dad says Ziva’s one hot piece of tail and he wouldn’t mind humping her leg. I thought only dogs humped legs. We asked Marissa what Dad meant and she got real red and told us to go wipe tables. Dad slept on the couch for a couple nights.

(Video: A handsome, gray-haired man with a moustache and beard winks at the camera) This is our grandpa, Vernon. He married Miss Elly from the Bighorn Diner. (The man gestures insistently. An attractive, middle-aged woman with blonde hair in short, tight curls joins him.) Uncle Nick got really mad when Grandpa and Miss Elly got married because she’s a herbie and doesn’t eat meat. Well, Marissa doesn’t eat meat either and she’s really nice to Thor and me and Dad. Miss Elly’s nice too. She makes the best flapjacks in Talbot’s Peak. We’re not allowed to call them pancakes. Uncle Nick always calls them pancakes. Grandpa says he’s just trying to push Miss Elly’s buttons. She wears an apron a lot so I don’t know where her buttons are.

Thor and I got pushed around for a while after Grandpa married Miss Elly, but then Miss Elly’s sons came by the school to talk to everybody about bullying. (Video: Two enormous young men scowl into the camera with beefy arms folded over their broad chests) Hannibal’s a forest ranger and Bo’s an emergency medical tech. They used to play football. They told everybody we’re in their herd now because their mom married our grandpa. Bighorns are herd animals. Everybody in the herd looks out for everybody else, like wolves do in a pack, so they said they’d be looking out for Thor and me from now on. Everybody’s been real nice to us since Han and Bo were here, so I guess their talk worked.

(Video of a girl who looks like a twentysomething version of Miss Elly. She smiles and waves at the camera)

This is Mary. She’s Miss Elly’s daughter and Bo and Han’s sister. She works for Uncle Nick. Dad says Uncle Nick yells at her all the time but it doesn’t do any good because she’s hearing impaired. One time he came up behind her and surprised her and she head-butted him. Uncle Nick always makes sure he yells at her back now. Mary doesn’t know any different and Dad says it helps Uncle Nick get it out of his system. Dad says Uncle Nick has a stick up his tail. Uncle Nick never yells at us, so maybe it’s an alpha-beta thing.

(Video of the entire group. Everybody smiles except for Nick, Hannibal and Bo)

Anyway, that’s our family. We’ve got wolves, bighorns and even humans. Herds and packs aren’t really different, so everybody sort’a gets along. When Thor and I grow up, we’re gonna have a big pack with humans and wolves and everybody in it, and I’m gonna be the alpha.

(Thor’s voice: “No, I’m gonna be the alpha.”)

Are not! (Video tilts, fuzzes and goes black)

Saturday, September 21, 2013

Time Out for A Promo Break

Siren Classic: Erotic Contemporary Romance, HEA]

Torrey Neadson wants more than physical intimacy—she wants love, connection, and the white picket fence. Torrey blew the chance at having it all with Holt Addison, once. Until he can connect with her on an emotional level, she'll make do taking care of herself.
Holt doesn’t want any more one-night stands. Being friends with benefits with Torrey became more and introduced him to a deeper relationship. The problem is Torrey moved on before he could tell her. Holt thought he could move on, too. Can they overcome their unsettled past to become the real thing?
Their respective friends want them back together, but Torrey and Holt have unresolved issues, and lingering feelings keep getting in the way. What starts out as botched setup date rapidly turns into days and nights full of surprises.

A Siren Erotic Romance


“Torrey, I’ll admit I’m anxious. I don’t think you want me to say out loud what I am uneasy about.” Holt pulled out the chair closest to her and sat down. Stuart rounded the table and sat next to Joanna.

“You’ve gained more manners, I see.” Torrey’s flushed cheeks told him she’d rather not continue in the direction his thoughts were running.

“Always had them. You just never saw them enough to realize how polite and courteous I am.” Holt reached across Torrey, snagging a handful of oyster crackers. He tossed several into his mouth.

“I didn’t know you hadn’t eaten,” Stuart offered, nudging Joanna. “We got here earlier, figuring we’d meet you for dinner.”

“Depends on what you call eating and dinner.” Joanna’s emphasis on eating and dinner left little to any of their imaginations as she continued. “Don’t know about you and Torrey, Holt. I know who Stuart is eating for dessert, or his second course.”

“Water,” Holt coughed. Blast Joanna and her punning sense of humor. The cheesy grin she wore set ripples off in more places than Holt liked. 

Torrey slid her glass of water in front of him. “Crackers a bit salty?” Her arched eyebrow and rolled eyes didn’t help. 

Holt gulped water, swallowing. He reached for a napkin. If his eyes kept watering, he’d have to leave for fear of losing a contact. Dabbing his eyes, Holt kicked Stuart under the table.

Stuart startled. Sitting upright, he glared at Holt. “What the hell was that for?”

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to, you know.” Holt hoped he plastered the best innocent grin he knew how to fake across his face. “Now that I have your attention, though, we could use a couple of fresh drinks. How about I buy and you get them?”

Holt tossed a twenty on the table. If Stuart didn’t pick up on the non-verbal signals, he deserved another kick, a well-placed kick in the seat of Stuart’s jeans if Holt could reach them.

Joanna claimed the twenty and rose. “Come on, Stuart. We’ll get the drinks. Torrey needs a fresh one. I know I do.”

* * * *

Torrey glanced over her shoulder as Stuart and Joanna threaded their way through the crowd toward the bar. She turned back, facing Holt. “Why are you here?”

She kept her hands below the table. Clenching and unclenching her hands did nothing to relieve the new flutters her stomach did each time Holt’s gaze ran over her. The heat rolled off him in huge waves, threatening to overwhelm her if she didn’t keep her icy shield in place. Problem was her hormones had different ideas. The man knew how to read her. He’d learned how to turn her on and keep the heat going. Chemistry didn’t need a catalyst with him. 

“I’d ask you the same thing. Except I probably know why you’re here.” Holt laid his arm on the table and leaned forward. “Things didn’t work out, did they?”

Torrey scooted her chair further away. Even a bit of space might allow some air in to help cool down the blasts boiling up between them. “I’m here because I want to be. What do you mean it didn’t work out?” 

Holt toyed with his napkin before his gaze met hers. She swallowed hard. His eyes smoldered like they had when she’d cried out his name as multiple orgasms claimed her. He wanted her just as he had then. She couldn’t deny her attraction either. This time she wasn’t going to jump in bed with him. Acting upon lust worked great if all she desired was another fling. Those were easy and came with a premium she wasn’t buying. Short and intense brought a slack in need but no long-term emotional connection to complement the physical satisfaction.

“If things had worked out, would you be here?” Torrey cringed at Holt’s emphasis on the word had. Damn, could he read her that easily? How much did he know?

“What if it hadn’t? I remember you saying that no woman would tie you down. You wanted to be free to pursue what came your way. You said I could do the same.” Torrey paused. Rubbing her lips together, she watched the glint in Holt’s eyes dim. She gripped her hands together under the table. Apologizing would only tell him what he said was true. Before he’d started dating another woman, he’d come close to taking a good chunk of her heart and sanity. Rumors flew hot and heavy concerning his involvement with the other woman. He’d never denied the juicy tales nor did he answer her e-mails and calls asking for clarification. What right did he think he had to sit here and challenge her?

Holt leaned closer. His hand reached for her. “Torrey, I know I said some dumb things in the past. And that line was the lamest. Truth is, two years ago I lived in the heat of the moment. The flash of passion ruled my libido.”


“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.



Pris asked for a weekend off from Rachel and Tyburn's story.  Pris melted two cakes of ice cooling down after watching them.  Seems our story is going to heat up more.  I've got a new menage story set in Cascade Bay almost done.  That plus a busy work week has kept the Spice Homestead hoping.  Fall is here and cooler temperatures.  Mage and I ventured to Baltimore last weekend to see Kenny Loggins and his new band Blue Sky Riders.  Check them out if you haven't already done so.  At 65, the man can still rock and continues to come up with awesome songs.  

Until next week when our saga continues, take a moment and get yourself a hot read in Hot for Torrey Book One in the Cascade Bay Series.  I will be sharing a good book or two with my spice and loves too.


Friday, September 20, 2013

Friday Hijack!

Good Moaning, one and all.  Mistress P here taking a time out from planning and playing to hijack this Friday's blog and spread some sexy cheer.  I have it on good athority that the lovely Serena is down for the count.  She claims it's allergies/asthma, but I shall continue to imagine it was our little Miss Shay spending to much time in the ropes, heck maybe she's still there.  hehehe

Anyway, I've decided that today should be about wicked, sexy pics.  A snapshot of what goes down at the Pleasure club here in Talbot's Peak.  Whatever you do don't let Dante know I'm sharing.  In his mind, whatever happens at Dante's stays at Dante's.  An excellent philosophy, but I did get permission from those pictured for sharing with ya'll.  So on we go...  Can you guess whose who?

Need a hint?  We help each other out from time to time and he has a long ~wink~ trunk...

Outsides just as good as in at Dante's...  Who are we?

These two, hella good squabblers, but even better at making up!

Well now my work is done.  Sexy pics posted...check.  Author teased...check.  Longhorn to play with...maybe.

Don't forget, play safe and keep your toys happy and sated.

Have a great weekend!

Mistress P

Thursday, September 19, 2013

Kissing with wolves...

I thought all you shapeshifter lovers would enjoy this wolf-wonderful news article. The pics are fantastic.

Kissing with wolves: Incredible moment photographer is jumped by a pack of gigantic grays who then NUZZLE him

    Photographer Monty Sloan abandons taking pictures to join the cuddling
    Unusual treatment of a human by pack in Wolf Park, Battle Ground, Indiana

By Mia De Graaf

PUBLISHED: 09:51 EST, 16 September 2013 | UPDATED: 02:43 EST, 17 September 2013 ~ Read more:


Tuesday, September 17, 2013

Out of control crazy... and Red Lioness...

Art Pic ~ RED-LIONESS by Thierry Bisch

Tuesday howls and yowls, shapeshifter lovers. 

Autumn is in the air on my tame prairie, despite all the strange and discombobulated weather. Blessings to All in Colorado. My heart goes out to those going through these terrible times, to those in need.

Okay then, my day has been out of control crazy in certain ways... so! once I could take a deep breath, and settle down to write, I decided to continue revising RED LIONESS TAMED, my sci fi erotic romance. And, yep, I'm nearing the end.

Thus, for your reading pleasure... hopefully...


Chapter Twenty-one:
"My Brave Beautiful Lioness."

Kahoqua yawned, fatigue hitting her like a head butt from a Joawwa, a race of ram humanoids. As lioness she needed to restore herself by dozing.

There was no way, given the severe pain of her wound. She twisted restlessly trying to ease the increasing ache.

"Kahoqua," she heard Draxen softly call. Fastening her gaze on him, she wondered if he did fear her as lioness.

"Cub," he encouraged, lowering himself to his haunches. "You're hurt. Let me take care of you."

Her heart heard him. His expression told her how much he cared for her.

Before she could stop herself, Kahoqua rose to her feet. As she padded the short distance toward Draxen, a new sweet emotion for him soared inside her.

Bast help! What was she going to do?

He wanted a pretend wife. Even if his heart reached for hers, the fate-odds were against their pairing.

She was shapeshifter. He was human.

Given their star-doubt their cultures were light years apart in crucial ways--ways that could destroy their mating harmony.

"Kahoqua," Draxen praised, the timbre of his voice reassuring. He cupped her head between his large hands. "My brave beautiful lioness."

She let her head rest in his cradling palms and they gazed at one another. No fear of her dulled the bronze flames in the depths of his midnight eyes.

He stroked one hand over her short  female mane, common in her breed of lioness. "Let's see your wound." His tone cherished her.

Kahoqua raised her head, moved back a step, then turned so he could view her shoulder. Like a tame pussycat she laid down eyeing the wand-like device he removed from his belt's holster.

"Oscillator healing," he explained, placing the instrument above her wound. "This shouldn't take long, my lovely lioness one."

Draxen caressed the top of her head as soothing warmth replaced her raw pain. Kahoqua felt her flesh begin to knit together, recognizing the sensation from previous injuries.

"Captain, Lorimus is contacting," Mesitor reported, his voice no longer crackly. "They received our automated distress signal."

"Explain we were under attack. Request additional time for more extensive repairs." 

"Yes, Captain."

"Nearly healed, cub." Draxen continued patting her head, his touch comforting, tender.

Mesitor returned in short order. "Lorimus requests direct contact with you, Captain. I could not persuade them otherwise."

When Draxen hesitated, Kahoqua licked his bare forearm once to let him know she was fine--that he should go. His glance at her spoke a galaxy's worth.

His feelings for her were so naked, Kahoqua had to question if he realized it. What it did to her insides--well rawrrr. Steamy desire collided with the softer desires of her heart.

Could they defy fate if she yielded?

Bast, wait! she cautioned herself. Men could be notoriously fickle. First one woman, then another would tempt their meat swords.

Meat sword. Kahoqua mentally rolled her eyes recalling how she and her girlfriends had laughed until their sides ached. They'd been at a dance club, watching a group of off-world males strut, their pelvises thrust forward--their super-enhanced penises pointing the way.

Kahoqua sought Draxen's gaze again. But he concentrated on attending to her, his handsome features still as stone. 

Did he know his own heart?

"Inform the station Coordinator I'm on the way," he commanded Mesitor.

"Yes, Captain."

Draxen finished healing her wound, then leaped to his feet. Kahoqua watched his quick long strides eat up the distance to his control panel.


Draxen entered his code quick as a star's blink, knowing Lorimus needed verification he was still in control of his vessel.

"Captain Draxen Z of the Venture," a man's voice officially greeted. "This is Coordinator Reimug. What happened out your way?"

"Neehaz boarding attack. Interested in the evidence?" Draxen watched the man's green-tinted complexion pale.

"Neehaz...shades of an old nightmare. Once your evidence is reviewed, I'll spread the intergalactic word on unrestricted channels. Agreed?"

Draxen gave a nod, well aware the warning would bypass the sector-regulated channels.

"What can you tell me now, Captain?" Greed and fear coexisted in the Coordinator's gaze.

"There are improvement in their short-beam. Had no defense against the boarding portal. Good news is I got the specs."

"Specs are worth a fair price, Captain, if you want to talk."

"I'll talk. But I want rights to the defense capability."

"Unofficial version is yours, Captain. Will that suffice?"

"Prefer it." Draxen liked dealing straight up, and he'd negotiated with Reimug in the past without a problem.

"My apology, Captain. I couldn't halt Sector Patrol. They grabbed your distress signal, and are on intercept."

"Appreciate the heads-up, Coordinator. No cargo onboard. Should be no delay."

"Your repair bay is ready, Captain. How else may we serve you?"

"As much privacy as you can arrange, Coordinator. Your usual courtesy at Lorimus." 

"Good space winds, Captain."

Draxen spun, apprehension brutally searing through him. His beautiful red lioness appeared to be resting, her repose regal.

How did he convince her to stay with him?

Sector Patrol was bad news. They would assume investigative boarding rights. His Sun Rocket Kahoqua could simply leave with them, leave him.

Had fate done a one-eighty pivot on him? Kicked him squarely in the jaw?

"Captain, I have prepared for Sector Patrol," Mesitor reported.

"All clear for inspection," Renna chimed in.

"Thanks." Draxen tossed in their direction. He lowered himself beside his red lioness, his lioness woman, his beautiful woman.

Draxen stroked over her back, enchanted with the feel of her coat, with her sleek feline shape. He sought the words to speak.

His life would be unbearable without her. He already knew he'd go to the ends of the galaxy to find her again, convince her to be his wife.

"Kahoqua, can you shift? Do I need to care for you in way I haven't learned?"

She lifted her head, blinked her eyes open lazily. Draxen witnessed the weariness in their aqua-faceted depths. In gorgeous contrast to her rich red fur, her eyes were outlined by kohl black skin.

He stared, lost in her intense feline gaze. Uncertain about how the lioness truly regarded him, he asked again, "Can you shift, Kahoqua?" 

She'd fought savagely, a beast protecting herself from mortal enemies. Yet his red lioness had also fought in concert with him. That had to be a nova-good sign.

"I will bring water and a restoring potion," Renna piped up.

Draxen heard the slight whir as she floated off to accomplish her droid mission. 

"Can you morph to human?" Draxen tried asking.

His lioness shook her head, a 'no' as he interrupted it. "You can't shift yet. Right, my beauty?"

She softly rumbled what sounded like a 'yes', then dropped her head, clearly resting. Draxen continued running his hand along the length of her back. He wondered how to tame his red lioness.


Wishing you shapeshifting love on the wild side… 


Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance 

Monday, September 16, 2013

Rick vs. the Tiger Yakuza

The brain went blank today, so I pulled a scene out of one of my WIPs. Rick the cougar-shifter has rescued tiger shiftress Nilambari from the evil Tiger Yakuza. He leaves her at his den and does a recon to make sure they’re not being hunted. Unfortunately, the Yakuza doesn’t give up easily …

# # #

Rick flattened his cat form against the ground and watched them poke around. There were seven of them. The original two must have picked up reinforcements. Only one had kept to human form. Rick marked him as the leader, the one who’d need human vocal chords to issue orders. All of them worked in meticulous silence, scouring every inch of rock and dirt. None carried weapons. Sizing up their muscles, weight, teeth and claws, he figured they figured they wouldn’t need any.

Dammit, he should have brought his rifle. He had a sling that let him carry it while in cougar form. He could have picked off a few from a distance and evened the odds a bit. All he had against seven trained Tiger Yakuza were his knowledge of his mountain, and his wits.

His lips pulled back in a feline grin. There were ways other than bullets to trim a tiger pack, as long as one kept a cool head. He settled in to wait and watch.

The tigers found nothing useful to them at the campsite. He watched them cast about for a trail. Good luck with that, you stripe-assed assholes. Rick always went out with his scent disguised, and he knew how to hide where he’d been.

Except he hadn’t been alone at the time, had he?

Even as this dawned on him, one of the tigers chuffed. The others gathered around him and the bush he crouched before. The one on two legs plucked something from its prickly branches. Recalling Nilambari’s thick cascade of hair, Rick could guess what the tiger-man held.

The man barked an order in a foreign tongue, then shifted. The tigers set off single file, along the path he and Nilambari had taken.


Rick circled to another trail, then dashed to intercept. He caught up with the tigers at a break along the western slope. They’d already fanned out to cover more ground. Five minutes of spying confirmed his worst fears: they were definitely working their way toward his den, and the helpless Nilambari.

Seven tigers, any one of which outweighed him. No rifle. Brute strength wasn’t going to cut it. Okay, brain. It’s you and me.

Rick straightened up out of the concealing grasses and screamed a threat at the cats. Seven tiger heads popped up and jerked in his direction. Once he saw he had their attention, Rick turned tail and ran for the forest.

Only one tiger roared—probably the leader, probably a command. He heard their heavy bodies behind him, plowing through the brush. They made no other noise. He slowed his pace, with his ears tipped back to catch any auditory hints. Tigers weren’t the chasing type. They’d let him run and stalk him. He had to stay just close enough to keep them interested. His plan depended on them being clumped behind him. This would have to happen quick.

The number of his enemies, their size as compared to his mountain lion, didn’t matter to Rick. He’d set his paws over every inch of this mountain and carefully marked its borders. He knew where every twig rested, every bird nested, where the deer made their trails and where foxes laired up. This was his mountain, and he’d defend it to the death.

He’d failed in that responsibility only once before. Never again.

Harsh breathing, to the left and behind. He’d let one catch up. It called to its fellows. Thanks, buddy, Rick thought at it. Keep ‘em close. The spot he wanted lay just ahead. These kitties needed to learn a lesson in the art of guerilla warfare.

He leaped on top of a fallen log and stopped there, as if to catch his breath. The tiger stopped as well, and took up position in front of him. Another appeared, then another. He heard a third creeping up behind him, to his right. They would try to surround him, give him several tense minutes to consider his hopeless situation, then move in.

Tigers. So predictable.

He bounced up and down on the log. Gravel, bark and loose earth rained into the dark depression beneath it. The tigers halted their approach to stare. They shared bewildered glances among themselves. Their eyes got even wider when he shifted back to human. They must think he was totally scatbrained.

A tiger slid forward one uncertain step. That would be their leader. Rick split his attention between the lead tiger and the hole beneath the log. This had to go right the first time. There’d be no second try.

A small, black rodent head poked out of the hole. Rick snagged the beast by the scruff of the neck, flung it at the leader, shifted and sprang away in the opposite direction, all in a single breath. His leap carried him right over the startled tiger that had been sneaking up on him from behind. Rick hit the ground and ran like hell.

The lead tiger’s hiss of surprise quickly switched to a yowl of pain. Seconds later the stench hit.

Here’s a tip for you, stripie. Skunks really, really hate it when you chuck them at people. Be sure to tell all your friends.

Well beyond reach of the skunk’s retaliation, Rick caught only scattered whiffs. The leader would have gotten the full brunt of it. That put him out of the fight. No telling how many others had got caught in the blast. He wasn’t in the clear yet.

A mile away, and well upwind, Rick found a thick-boled tree and scaled it. Stretched out on a sturdy branch, he could watch his back trail in comfort. It also gave him a chance to consider plans of attack. His strategy would be determined by how many tigers remained on his trail.

They didn’t get it. Nobody got it. This mountain belonged to him. He would not be killed or driven away. His very territory was his weapon.

Sunday, September 15, 2013

SNEAK PEEK SUNDAY: Her Midnight Stardust Cowboys ~ Chapter Fourteen

Her Midnight Stardust Cowboys 

Chapter Fourteen:
Zance drew the loosely woven blanket... 
Zance drew the loosely woven blanket over Sherilyn. He tucked it around her so her movements wouldn't be restricted. "She's deeper than a cub after the first hunt. Her mendin' will take longer than I thought, but she's coming along real good."

"Yeah, my nose says the same thing." Bending down, Dontoya placed a tender kiss on their mate's brow.

For several minutes both of them stood motionless, simply staring at her lovely face now softened as she peacefully slept.

Zance growled a groan, keeping it mostly suppressed. As a distraction for his zipper-busting lust, he turned, and followed his nose to Sherilyn's rabbit.

Barney scrunched himself against the back of his large carrier. Marcy had placed it in the far corner of the room.

Moving beside him, Dontoya uttered, "Don't blame the critter for not being a happy camper. Looks like Marcy gave him plenty of grub and water."

For more Sunday Sneak Peaks
***Blurb & Excerpts for HER MIDNIGHT STARDUST COWBOYS are on my page above.*** 
Wishing you shapeshifting love on the wild side… 


Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance

Saturday, September 14, 2013


Rachel grabbed the handles of the ornate doors, gasping at the deep male voice directly behind her asking, “Going somewhere wife?”

Damn, a thousand years couldn’t erase the heat his timbre pushed through her with that tone.  The tone that brooked no hesitations, no lingering thoughts of doing anything else, but obeying.  Obeying his decisions, demands, and---oh, yes his sexual desires.  This time he was getting a no.  One that cooled his balls to the point of frosting them like the icicles she encountered over the winter back on the Peak.  Maybe a double case of numb frosted nuts might get him to put his brain back into his head rather than compacted into his dick.

Rachel drew two shallows breaths before glancing to where her white-knuckled hands still gripped the contrasting brass handles.  So much yellow, gold, and brighter brass and copper hues dizzied her stomach to the point she wanted to walk over and puke on his feet.  Then when she looked up, spew forth more.  Tyburn deserved as good as he got.  Problem was she wasn’t sure she could give him as good as he gave.  

Rachel inhaled, worked first one hand then her other free from the handles.  Flexing her fingers, she counted and decided.  Deciding to face the mate, she voided and didn’t trust as far as a light bolt could arc.  Depending on the pitcher, that wasn’t very far.  

Tyburn lounged against the wall.  His shoulder length hair glowed as the rising sun broke the horizon outside the window behind him.  Sunbeams cascaded off the mirrored tiles adorning the mosaic wall he leaned against.  The broken array littered the floor in patches and shadows of dark and light.  If one of the human servants entered, they would no doubt fall to their knees, supplicating themselves as if he were a god.  She knew better. 

Like his father, and his grandfathers before him, Tyburn believed in dominance leading, taking care of those weaker than him, and accepting no less than their compliance. The world she chose to call home didn’t work like that.  Some allowed their submissiveness to shine forth.  She didn’t.  In fact the last time she submitted to anyone, the man treated her better than any citizen of Solentran  ever did. 

Her human husband understood partnership and working together to achieve shared goals and values.  Rachel blinked; knowing her daughters, son, and their offspring remained safe.  Too bad Nelson’s lifespan lasted no longer than a blink of eye in Solentran time.  Mere nanoseconds on the eternal time clock.  No, this rebirth Tyburn would release her and stop his insanity of trying to keep her.


Happy Weekend Gang!

The angst keeps building.   I wonder how Tyburn's arrogance and tenacity will match up to  Rachel's grit and stubbornness.  There is more to come to this my muse Pris keeps telling me.  I bet when these two get together, their passion is like a freak  thunder and lightening storm combined!

The last days of Summer are passing.  As you wind down your summer into fall, remember to share a good book or two with your loves and spice.  I know I will!