Monday, June 30, 2014

Missed It By That Much

Morloxian had Maureen strapped down on the table and was reaching for his hypos when the sound of the first crash reached them. It was followed quickly by others, plus screams. The semi-werewolvan doctor shot a glare toward the door. “Not again,” he grumbled. “The mutants,” he explained to Maureen. “I can’t let them run loose like I could in Colorado. Too many civilians with cameras. So they attack the cafeteria.” He shuffled toward the door on bare, taloned paws. “Don’t go anywhere.”

The moment he left the lab Maureen attacked her bindings. On TV the heroine would grab a scalpel in her teeth and saw through the straps. Unfortunately, the Doctor hadn’t left any scalpels within reach. She had to settle with wriggling her scrawny body out from under her bonds. The buckets of sweat pouring off her helped immensely.

She had one arm loose and was working on the other when Morloxian returned, on the run. “Time to go,” he said. He ripped the straps loose himself. “Goddamn welcome wagon.”

He lifted Maureen off the table. Her feet touched the floor. She steadied herself and then rammed her knee into the Doctor’s groin. His lupine howl cracked on a warbling high note. Maureen was out the door before he finished collapsing.

One quick sprint into the hallway later, she saw what he was talking about. The hidden lab, so quiet and orderly when he’d dragged her off to his workroom, was now a chaotic arena peopled by silent men in black coats and monstrous eight-foot werewolves. The men were armed and the wolves had claws, so they were pretty evenly matched.

Morloxian’s human staff took no part in the melee. They were wisely running for the exits.

As Maureen watched, one of the men tossed his coat aside and shifted into a tiger. He and a mutant werewolf charged each other. Their roars were equally inhuman.

Yeah, the exits were looking really good right about now.

A flash of pastel color caught her eye. The ladies of the harem were taking advantage of the invasion to vacate the premises. Candi, leader of the group, spotted her and waved. “C’mon, hon. There’s a way out through Dracula’s castle.” She and the women ran on without waiting to see if Maureen followed.

Whatever “Dracula’s castle” meant. Maureen dashed after the women.

She almost made it. Right at the doorway a mutant werewolf suddenly appeared. Its dark fur had made it nearly invisible in the shadows. It clamped its furry paw over her mouth before she could scream. “Don’t be afrrraid,” it rasped, in a rough, labored growl of a voice with an odd trace of a foreign accent. “All will be well, Maurrrrrrreen.”

Her blood temp went down to absolute zero. She whispered against his paw, “Pete?”

“There you are. Good, you got her.” Morloxian ran at them in a painful shamble. He stopped well back from Maureen with his hand cupped over his crotch. “Goddamn tigers. Who let them in? Get out there and help clean up the mess. I’ll take it from here.”

He reached for Maureen’s arm. The mutant werewolf grabbed the Doctor’s arm instead. “You come with.”

“What? Wait, what are you doing, you stupid mutt! You do what I tell you. I created you!”

“Perrrrrhaps.” The creature formerly known to Maureen as Pete snarled into Morloxian’s face. “But I serrrve anotherrrrr.”

He slammed his fist against Morloxian’s head. The Doctor went limp. Werewolf Pete caught him and Maureen under his arms and changed direction, heading now toward a set of double doors at the end of a branching corridor.

Maybe she was delirious. Maybe she was panicking. But as she jounced beneath Pete’s arm, she thought she saw a familiar blond head at the end of the corridor. Desperately she screamed, “Ewan!”

# # #

The underground lab was a mess of flying, bloody bodies, some of them human, most of them not. Ewan figured the real humans had skedaddled already. If the monkeys had any real talent, it was a healthy sense of self-preservation.

Ewan wasn’t interested in them, or the monster werewolves, or the Tiger Yakuza, or even Morloxian. His nose sorted through the mess of scents for that one special perfume that wasn’t quite human or quite a she-wolf but already said home to him. He hugged the wall and dodged raging wolves and silent, lethal tigers and sniffed every door he came near. Deuce, no fool, followed his lead.

He caught a whiff of her scent at the head of a dim-lit corridor and risked a look inside. Something big and hairy had two bodies clutched under its burly arms. One of them shrieked his name.

“Maureen!” Ewan raced full out down the corridor. He had no idea how he was going to take on a giant mutant werewolf without any weapons. He’d figure something out when he got there.

The werewolf didn’t even look around. It jabbed its finger at a keypad in the wall. The doors slid open. The monster and its captives ducked inside just as Ewan reached him. Maureen strained her hands toward him.

Ewan lunged for the door. It slammed shut in his face.

He was pounding futilely on the metal when Deuce finally caught up. “How are you with electronics?” Ewan said, and pointed at the keypad. “Can you get this damn door open?”

Something inside made a noise that shook the walls. Both Deuce and Ewan froze. The echoes had not quite died away before they were overridden by a second noise, this one a heavy grinding. It seemed to be coming from the ceiling.

“You sure you want to go in there?” Deuce asked.

Ewan wracked his brain. He’d done more thinking on this case than he’d had to do in his lifetime. They weren’t going to get these doors open any time soon, that was certain. There must be another exit inside. A huge one, from the sound of it. “Where are we?” he asked Deuce. “What part of the course are we under?”

“I don’t think we’re under the course itself any more. If my sense of direction didn’t get screwed, I think we’re near the swimming pool. They filled that in years ago.” His eyes narrowed, and he said what Ewan was already thinking. “Or made a bolthole out of it.”

Ewan gave the unyielding door a final useless blow with his fist. He shoved Deuce ahead of him. “C’mon. Back outside. We’ll have to catch ‘em out there.” He thought of that first gargantuan noise. That hadn’t been any kind of engine he knew about. It had sounded—he swallowed—organic. Living. “Let’s hope whatever they’ve got in there can’t fly.”

Saturday, June 28, 2014

SNEAK PEEK SUNDAY: Her Midnight Stardust Cowboys ~ Chapter Twenty-two

Her Midnight Stardust Cowboys 

Note: Zance and Dontoya are figuring out how best to protect Sherilyn from enemies and potential enemies.

First SIX paragraphs from ~  

Chapter Twenty-two:
Zance reached for the coffee pot...  

Zance reached for the coffee pot, warming on the hearth. As he filled his mug, second thoughts about his mate's Ubarion heritage struck him like a bolt of pissed off lightning.

All the while, Donny-cat gave him the cougar stare, the one that screamed, 'I'm ready to leap. Wrestle you to the ground for more answers.'

Trouble was, Zance didn't have more answers. Not just yet.

His pardner declined a refill with a shake of his head, setting his mug on the mantle. That meant, Donny-cat's adrenaline hit the high mark, and his claws were about ready to spring into existence.

"Most important right now is protecting Sherilyn from the Templetons. And, from the shadow controllers of this world, who want her Ubarion genes," Dontoya rumbled darkly.

"Yep, could be those robber baron types snatched her brother. Might even have murdered her parents to get Tod." With his instincts buzzing something fierce, Zance figured he hunted down the right trail, or at least, close enough. 


For more Sunday Sneak Peaks 


Blurb & Excerpts for HER MIDNIGHT STARDUST COWBOYS are on my page above.  

Have a Magickal Shapeshifting Week...  


Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance


Gill looked down at his hand twice.  The silver band on his left hand on his third finger from his thumb glowed with a sparkle he swore was magically placed there.  Why else would he have put the band on?  Soft sighs sounded behind him.  Gill tried inhaling.  Each breath caught as another sigh sounded.  Glancing over his shoulder he saw. ..

Gill bolted up right in bed. Tossing the covers aside, he placed his hands flat on the mattress next to his naked hips ready to run.  Not a leisurely jog. No an all-out scared shitless dash for the nearest lawyer.  Just how legal was a wedding he couldn’t remember.  Shivers ran down his back over his front and down on to---shit he was as naked as the day he slipped from his momma’s womb.  Shaking his head, Gill forced air into his lungs.  One shallow gulp then another followed by several more.  Around the fourth deeper inhalation, he blinked, wondering if his sanity would return.  He counted in squirrel, then human, and squirrel once more before he stood.  He padded across the carpet, into the bathroom.  He locked the door upon latching it. 

Standing in front of the full-length mirror, he scowled.  His hair stood up on end in patches all over his head.  He remembered Chloe’s hands clutching his head as he licked her clit bringing her to one more hard pulsing orgasm.  Her deep throated moans intensified with each nibble and lap he took.  Somewhere around her fourth or fifth orgasm, she screamed into her pillow.  He remembered grinning as he eased back, reaching for the second condom of the night.  And that was. . .Thursday.  Today was. . .they’d spent the last ---holy beer nuts three days in bed.  Well there were the calls for room service and the quick dash to the washer and dryer for the clothes they laundered in between bouts of making the mattress bounce.  But hitched?  How when?  And without a stitch of clothing on?  He doubted it.  Of course, shape shifters and nudity went together as naturally as white on rice.

His hand shook as he reached for the faucet. Surely some cold water would wake him up more, sending his mind into functional mode.  Any functional mode was better than being half awake or asleep with the nightmare he’d just had.  Did he dare let his hand come into view?  Let the silver dazzle and mesmerize him again?  Oh hell hell no!  Finding out how legal this marriage was would happen later.  Breaking the news to Chloe wouldn’t be easy.  Inviting her home with him made sense.  Wedding bells were way off his list of priorities.  He had a campaign to run.  A town to keep in line, if the town ever paid any attention to what city hall said.  Even the council got rubber rocks tossed at it from time to time. 

Gill swallowed hard, did a quick ten count.  He closed his eyes, knowing that the truth would either ensnare him deeper or set him….
He opened his eyes.  Blinked.  Stared hard at his left hand. In particular third finger from his thumb.  Rapture, joyful giddiness, and a host of other emotions swarmed up inside him.  For now he didn’t have to break his or Chloe’s heart.  Five more days of vacation gave him plenty of time to get things ready.  A clan of Red Ground Squirrels needed plenty of room to roam.  Especially within the mayoral mansion.


Happy Weekend Gang!

Well Gill and Chloe rang the gong!  They got it on.  With five more days of vacation and already three spent in bed, is that economy size box of condoms gonna be enough?  Maybe we should have Gill give us a count of how many he used? Or blew out?  Now Gill stop shaking your fist at me and cussing in squirrel.

Summer is offically here. Heat, humidity, and storms appear as regular items on the weather forcast here at the Spice Homestead.  Stay safe and well.  As you lounge at the beach or pool, remember to share a good book or two with your loves and spice.
I know I will!

Until next week,



Friday, June 27, 2014

Selfie with Dante?

Since it's kids week here on Shapeshifter Seductions Daniel and Silas Swans wanted to make an appearence.  They were determined to try a selfie stunt after watching a teenager across the pond get a great shot, and the stink eye, of himself and the Queen of England.  What, they wondered, could they get from the great and wise, Dante of Talbot's Peak?

If you haven't see the Queen's stink eye moment yet, check it out here.
“Did you get it?”

“Shush, he’ll hear you, then we’ll never get the shot off.”

“Here he comes, here he comes.”

“Damn Daniel, you are such a loud butt dork.”

“Am not! You are Silas.”

“Shut up and get ready.”


Dante grinned to himself as he followed Ally down the steps inside The Talbot’s Peak Inn.  At the bottom, her boys waited to “surprise” him in some form or fashion.  He could hear their hushed conversation, but he didn’t smell malice so whatever they had planned must be a bit of harmless fun…and it would be from his point of view.

“Everything looks to be in good working order, Ally, and business appears to be booming.  That, I’m sure, is due entirely to your hard work.”  Dante smiled at the lovely human Hawke had already claimed as his own.

“Thank you, Mr., ah, Dante.”

She blushed prettily at his comments. Even in his renewal phase, or death as some might call it, Hawke had found his other half.  He was happy for his friend and had promised to watch over her and the children until his return.

“Are there any problems you’ve come across to which I could be of assistance?”

“He’s close, get the camera app ready…”

“It is, dork.  You go round the left and I’ll take the right, then get close enough to be in the picture. 
That kid in England…”


“Whatev’s.  That kid got a selfie with the Queen, but we’re getting one with Dante.  He rules this town and has way more power than some Queen.”


Dante smirked.  If the boys only knew how much power he wielded, but he wasn’t alone.  He shared power with a few others, as it should be.  Now, how could he make the selfie more exciting?


The boy’s jumped out, not at all sneaky, and crowed in close.  The camera was up and both boys were laughing.

“Daniel!” Ally scolded. “Silas!”

Dante bent between the duo, made a V behind each boys head and flashed a special grin at the camera.

“No way…” “Hey, you look like a…” Both boys hollered at the same time.  “Wolf!”
Worry not, Dante assured me he didn't shift his face for the picture, just added the essence of wolf to the air for the boys to "see" for a moment in the camera.  Yeah, he's that powerful.

Have a great weekend!

Wednesday, June 25, 2014

A little change of pace

No Witch's Moon today. Loki and Thor are getting annoyed at being ignored and they have heard the story of how their parents hooked up a hundred times already. In the interest of keeping the blog from being over run by mischivious wolf pups, I decided to let them have their way. Sometimes it's just easier.

~ Rebecca

* * * * * * * * * *

Welcome to The Peak After Dark. Jason Moroni here, filling in for Ralph Bruin, who is on vacation this week. I’m bringing you all the news you cannot use about people you don’t care about.  Today I have a little something different for you. I somehow got roped into puppy-sitting Mooney and Marissa’s kids, so I figured it might be fun to let the pups field some calls.

Jason: Ok guys, tell our listeners a little bit about yourselves.
Coby: Everyone already knows who we are and prac’ly everything about us, Moon Moon!
Brett: This is Talbot’s Peak, after all.
Jason: The name is Jason Moroni, guys.
Coby: Hey, Moon Moon, why does the screen say “Coby” next to my words? My name is Thor!
Brett: Because your name is Coby, biscuit breath. Your nickname is Thor.
Coby: What’s a nickname? And I’m not the biscuit breath, Loki. That would be you, who ate all my Coby Beef flavored biscuits!
Brett: They were not either all yours. Mom bought them for all of us.
Coby: Then why did they have my name on the box?
Brett: Pretty sure your name starts with a “Cee”, not a “Kay” bonehead.
Moon Moon: Seriously guys?
Thor: What?
Moon Moon:  Um, why did all of our names change on the screen?
Loki: Probably a hacker got into the station’s computer.
[long silent pause]
Moon Moon: Loki, give me the hack codes now!
[Sounds of banging and crashing in the background]
Thor: And now for our first caller!
Caller 1: Um, is everything alright there?
Thor: You bet’cha! Was that your question?
Caller 1: Maybe you should let an adult take the calls.
Thor: Good advice; I’ll tell Moon Moon that when he gets back from chasing Loki. Next caller!
Caller 2: Young man, where is that moron who is supposed to be supervising you?
Thor: His name is pronounced “More-ow-nee”, not  “more-on”. Or just call him Moon Moon; everyone else does. And I just said he was chasing Loki. Next Caller!
Caller 3: Hi Thor! [lots of high pitched giggles]
Thor: Uh. You’re not,  like, gonna giggle the whole time, are you? [Lots of giggles from at least three high pitched voices]
Caller 3: Cindy in Mrs. Feathercock’s class wants to know if you like her! [giggles and one loud squeal of outrage]
Thor: As a person? Yeah. But I think someone else who I’m not gonna name likes her more than me, so I’m gonna step back and be a gentleman ‘bout it.
Caller 3.1: Coby McMahon, you better tell me who it is or I’m—
Thor: Next caller!

* * * * * * * * * *
Lex leaned back in his overstuffed wingchair and swirled the amber liquid in his brandy snifter. A slight smile tugged at the corner of his mouth when he heard who the next caller was. He flicked a finger towards his stereo unit to turn the volume up a tad bit.
“Thor, put Moon Moon on the phone now!”
“But Mo-oh-om!”
He chuckled at the sound of an eight-year-old wolf pup whining because he knew his bacon was cooked. It was all her own fault, of course. She had banned Lex himself from supervising her children, and had called in Moon Moon to watch them so she and her wolfy mate could have a date night. He wondered how long it would be before Marissa recanted and allowed him to spend time with his favorite minions again. Surely this radio debacle—which he’d carefully orchestrated, of course—would make his own misdeeds look quite tame…

Tuesday, June 24, 2014

Cat Girl Versus the Machine

Summer howls and yowls, shapeshifter lovers.

The following flash scene is my little homage to YA. Hope you enjoy.

Cat Girl Versus the Machine

Reluctantly, Satka thumbed off the tune she'd been movin' and groovin' to. Having arrived at the Peak's library, she stretched and yawned before entering. Holy heck, she'd already endured a long boring day at TP High. Thank the Great Feline summer vacation was a mere week away.

On instinct, Satka scanned her surroundings, satisfying her inner cat. As she shoved through the glass door, she wished for the umpteenth time that her parents weren't so ridiculously strict, old-fashioned... or whatever.

She yowled silently, and headed for the front desk to check in with Miss Kitty. Okay, she could understand their viewpoint, and that was a pain in the butt in and of itself. After being home-schooled, after educationally roaming free, her parents had given Satka a choice. Learn the social ways and be of service at the local highschool, or get a job. They'd suggested 'waitress'.

Satka flinched inside, still sore from the memory. Not that she dished waitressing, but she'd envisioned her life far differently. So instead of chasing down ancient technology relics, she'd spent the past school year observing social behavior, and looking for ways to fit in. What a dismal failure that was -- except in one regard. The shifter-supernatural kids who needed extra tutoring gravitated toward her, orbiting like planets around a sun.

Of course, she'd done her best to help them. And because of that she'd met Miss Kitty, Dante's main squeeze. A nova bright spot in her day, since they often discussed relic manuscripts and books, searching out ways to attain them.

In the meantime, she worked part-time at the library to impress the parents and 'cover' their covert activities. Together, she and Miss Kitty had already tracked down and recovered a copy of an ancient tome, reputed to have been read by Ed Leedskalnin, the infamous mystery man who had built Coral Castle in Florida -- he claimed in the same way the pyramids had been constructed.

"Satka." Miss Kitty beamed a smile at her from the head librarian's desk. "Am I glad you're here," she continued as Satka strolled toward her. "The computers are acting up like ornery kittens, and I don't have a clue. I've called for tech help, but they can't get here until tomorrow."

Given Satka's computer expertise as far as foiling the most malicious hackers -- which included neutralizing the NSA spy bots -- she regularly solved such problems on the quiet.

"Are you feeling well?" Miss Kitty asked, concern in her remarkable blue eyes. "It can wait if you need to go home."

"No. Yeah... just feeling sorry for myself," Satka mumbled. She always tried to be as truthful as possible with the sweet cat woman because of how well they got on, and the real respect she felt. "The teenage angst thing," she added.

"Isn't your sixteenth birthday coming up soon?" Miss Kitty smiled knowingly, then stood.

"Next week, Thursday." Satka had to crack a smile at the woman's enthusiasm. Her own was sadly lacking -- at the moment. "Why don't I check the computer system before the cyber gremlins take over?"

Her words barely left her mouth when Satka heard a whispered shout for assistance from the computer station area.

"Coming, Lawrence," Miss Kitty sang out, even as she headed toward the young lion shifter while motioning away one of the other assistants. Once beside him, she suggested, "Let's look for a book that will... uh..." Miss Kitty covered his eyes fast with one hand, then took hold of his arm encouraging him to rise.

"Porn gremlins," she mouthed to Satka as she passed, the eleven year old in tow. Knowing Lawrence was geek-inclined and studiously researched bio-chemistry applications, and given the filters she herself had installed... scat, the cyber scumbags were seriously attacking.

"Okay, everyone," Miss Kitty announced. "The computer system is on the fritz. Sign off. Now."

At the murmured grumbles, Satka typed in her code before seating herself. The screens flickered and blanked long enough to get everyone on their feet. "Hey, why does she get to stay?" Bastille, a werewolf teen demanded.

"Because SHE works here, mister," Miss Kitty authoritatively snapped.

Feeling Bastille's gaze sear her back, Satka twisted enough to meet his scowl. She gave him a quick feline smirk, then sat, her full attention on the screen that had blipped back to life. As she'd expected.

She frowned at the psychedelic swirls of color swiftly changing their patterns, not the usual viral hack that was for meow-certain. Without looking, Satka reached into her backpack retrieving the special thumbdrive she always kept close. In moments, her detection codes downloaded, then connected the library computer with her home unit.

Like a predator chasing the cleverest prey, Satka watched the screen rapidly alter, landscape scenes at first with rapidly disappearing lines of code. Someone at genius level took her for a long cyber ride around the world.

She tapped in a disruption command. Instantly, scenes of crowds from big cities worldwide, from rock concerts, from Mardi Gras type celebrations, from huge parades all over the globe -- given the appearance and attire of the people -- flashed faster and faster.

Half-mesmerized, Satka tapped again, loosing one of her tracker bots. Chaotic lines crisscrossed the screen, as if whoever was deeply confused. Then, close-up pictures of people appeared one by one, a cyber photo album. Again, it was global, seeming random portraits of every race -- man, woman and child.

An eerie chill slid up Satka's spine. She recognized a super intelligence when she witnessed it. But why this small library, why...

"You're good," a male voice praised.

Satka nearly jumped out of her skin, human and cat, at the words. She'd been so engrossed in discovering, tracking the super hacker, she'd ignored her cat's raised hackles.

"Yeah?" she muttered, refusing to look over her shoulder. After all, no way would Miss Kitty allow anyone dangerous near her. "Suggestions," she tossed instead.

At that very instant, a futuristic image of a wired brain filled the entire screen. The 3-D art rotated while pinpoints of light flickered and pathways connected, turning neon-radiant.

"It's alive," the male voice stated with a calm that belied his pure astonishment.

Satka knew his tone, because she felt exactly the same. Utter astonishment gripped her. Aware she leaned forward, focusing hard on the ever-changing image, Satka took hold of the mouse cursor, and clicked on the nearest pulsing pinpoint.

"Dave... where am I, Dave?" A slurred artificial voice erupted from the computer's speaker. "I'm lost... I'm lost..." The soft monotone cleared, becoming more understandable.

"2001: A Space Odyssey," the male voice spoke aloud what Satka thought. More chills chased down her inner cat tail. Her heart pounded in her throat.

"Are you Dave?" she asked, even as she thought, do I kill this cyber-sentient program? Is it organically bred and born... or a diabolical AI from deep black ops? Or... what?

An instant ticked by on the cosmic clock. "Are you Hal?" whoever he was asked from behind her.

"I am... I am... " Red flares of light shot from the brain. "I am not, not Dave... no, I am not known as Hal... why are the pyramids no longer in use?"

Staggered, Satka felt her mouth drop open. She whirled around to see the expression on whoever's face. Her breath sucked in quick, as if she ran as cat against a storm wind.

He was gorgeous, and she would have guessed his age to be around eighteen. Only she'd never laid eyes on him before.

"Zrevor," he introduced. "Friends call me Zrev." He paused, his gaze roaming her face. "I'm Lawrence's older brother... here for the summer."

The purring tone of his voice dropped an octave at least, and Satka positively sizzled inside. No time, she thought, jerking her gaze back to the screen. She had to determine... oh scat! The brain now sported a face. "Omygawd!" burst past her lips.

"Omygawd is right," Zrev seriously growled.


Wishing you love and passion on the wild side ...


Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance

Monday, June 23, 2014

How to Win Friends and Influence Yakuza

Back in the day (the day being sometime in the 1950s), Route 15 had been a quiet little two-lane blacktop that wound into the mountains and eventually brought unwary travelers to the town of Talbot’s Peak, which even in those days had a rep among the monkeys as being a couple bubbles off true. There was a motel down at the foot of the mountain, and Super Stock Car Raceway and its partner, the Rodeo Arena, and an amusement park whose owner must have looked at Disneyland and said, “Feh. I know what kids like.” The owner had been dead wrong, but with little else for miles around the better-than-nothing rule was in full effect.

Then around the mid-60s the interstate came in, and the Talbot’s Peak exit became a happening place. Like the gold rush towns of yesteryear, a whole civilization sprang up beside the on- and off-ramps, heavy on the motels, fast-food joints and gas stations. A bowling alley and movie theater (which later grew to a multiplex) joined in, followed by bars and clubs, all geared to getting those folks whizzing by on the highway to pull over and spend a few bucks.

Somehow the Raceway survived, though these days it relied more on monster trucks and demolition derbies to bring in the paying customers. This being Montana, the rodeo’s continued existence was assured, in spite of the annual PETA protests. Uncle Fuddy’s Funland also lasted through the decades, with occasional updates to bring it into the modern era. A video arcade joined the kiddie rides, skill games, miniature golf and train ride in the 1980s, while the old swimming pool was filled in. You could still get a cherry Sno-Cone there, and the chance to barf your guts out on the Tilt-A-Whirl.

Ewan, who’d grown up at the Jersey Shore and its many boardwalk offerings, was not impressed. He wasn’t here to be impressed. He was here to save his mate. Yes, mate. Usually he ignored his wolf half, but this time the big hairy mutt refused to back down. If it meant he got some on a regular basis, then the coyote in him was all for it. With both his natures in full accord, he studied the mini golf.

“Is it just me,” he said to Deuce, “or is that really creepy?”

The mini golf’s theme appeared to be classic horror movies. A ten-foot Frankenstein guarded the entrance to a stone laboratory with several tunnels for golf balls. A Dracula in an unmoving plastic cape lorded over a many-towered castle decorated with rubber bats on the 4th hole. A generic masked maniac with a chainsaw guarded the 13th fairway. Ewan also spotted a witch in the window of a gingerbread house and a dinosaur stomping the hell out of the obstacles surrounding the 5th hole. The creature looked just different enough from Godzilla to avoid a copyright lawsuit.

Deuce also peered around the course, with a frown on his face. “You think the lab’s near here?”

“I think it is here,” Ewan said. He thought, If I was a mad scientist, where would I put my secret entrance?

His narrowed gaze automatically went straight to the building guarded by Frankenstein’s monster. Pretty on-the-nose, but that’s how humans thought.

He started toward it. Then he stopped, and stopped Deuce before the wolf could follow him. “We got company.”

A few bored folks were halfheartedly knocking little colored balls around, but Ewan wasn’t worried about them. His concerns centered on the men seated on benches at various spots around the course. In coloring and ill-fitting clothing they were cut from the same spicy cloth as Silent Sam, but in much better physical shape. A closer squint at the golfers turned up one of their number poking around the fiberglass hazards surrounding the holes. Ewan saw no telltale bulges, but pros wouldn’t advertise their armament anyway.

“Tiger Yakuza,” Deuce muttered. “How do we get past them?”

“We don’t,” Ewan said. He picked the nearest ninja and strode right up to him. “Howdy.”

The man glared at him suspiciously. Now that they were up close and in each other’s personal space, Ewan could smell the tiger on him, just as he was sure the tiger had a healthy dollop of coyote up his nostrils. That would account for his sour scowl. “The name’s Ewan,” he said, and offered his hand. “Zhere Ghan sent me.”

The tiger continued to glare, first at Ewan’s hand, then at Ewan in general. “Yeah, I’m a coyote,” Ewan went on, “which means I’m not an idiot. That’s why I switched over to your side. I’m here to help you get your hands on Dr. Morloxian.” He took a stab in the dark and said, “Is the signal still coming through?”

The tiger’s widening eyes told Ewan he’d hit the bull’s-eye. “You find the entrance yet?” Ewan asked. “Bet you didn’t, or you wouldn’t be sitting around.” He leaned in close for a conspirator’s whisper. “My money’d be on Frankenstein’s lab over there. It has symmetry. Apes love symmetry.”

His new bestie said nothing, but his hand moved in a choppy signal. The ninja poking around Godzilla’s feet abandoned Little Tokyo and cut across the greens to the lab set. They watched him try the door. It didn’t budge. The ninja turned at once toward the towering fiberglass Frankie.

“No,” Ewan said, thinking aloud. “Kids’d hang on those arms. Same for the sconces and the gargoyles. They’d climb all over this stuff. I wonder if—naw. Some teenager at some point would’ve kicked Frank in the jewels. What wouldn’t a kid go near?”

The tiger listened to all this intently, without appearing to. He mumbled something in a foreign language into his lapel. The ninja sniffing around Frank suddenly climbed nimbly up the ten-foot statue, beyond the average kid or teen’s reach, to twist the bolts that jutted from the monster’s neck.

The door to the “lab” swung silently inward.

“Well, I’ll be a son of a hound,” Ewan said. “You boys are good.”

The tiger smiled thinly up at him. Then he rose, still without a word, and sprinted for the lab. From all around the course similar dark, silent men converged on Frankenstein’s lab and ducked through the open door.

Deuce trotted over to Ewan. “What just happened?”

“The Yakuza found the way in,” Ewan said. “There being more of them, I figured we’ll let ‘em run interference for us. We’ll wait here five minutes and then go in. They should have the place in a right proper panic and the mutant werewolves occupied by then.”

Deuce stared at him in awe. “You’re twisted.”

“That’s ‘cause I’m a coyote, son.” Ewan stared at the doorway. It hadn’t been anywhere near five minutes, but he had a special damsel to rescue from distress. In addition to being twisted, coyotes weren’t big on patience. “C’mon. Let’s go be heroes.”

Friday, June 20, 2014

A Plan Goes Sideways...

A sexy start to the day!
Burgess came to—suddenly—and in fight mode. He tugged hard against the chains holding him to the table, but couldn’t move. Memories of last night were etched into his brain—pain, waste, and fear. 

He’d started the night at a cave rave three towns over where his job was to protect the boss’ lackey while the human filth dispensed Tranq like it was a fucking treat ¬¬ injectable candy. Four dead shifter teens was the result, teens not from Talbot’s Peak, but if they had been then maybe, just maybe, they’d still be alive.

With a sharp tug he once again tried to break the chains, giving up only when the door opened bringing in his partner on this job, and friend, Rafe, followed by their boss Mr. Crunkelton. “Let me out of these.” He shook the shackles.

“Now, now, Burgess,” Mr. C oozed, “That would be foolhardy of me, for sure.  It seems that my lovely concoction has an interesting effect on you.”

The portly human tapped at his tablet then turned it for Burgess to see.  It was video from the previous evening, a repeat of the unnecessary teen deaths, the verbal fight between him and the lackey and ultimately the part Burgess had no trouble remembering, even relishing, him breaking said lackey’s skinny neck.  The video went dark after that owing, he was sure, to the suddenly dead hands dropping it, camera side down, and Burgess’ size twelve combat boot stomping the shit out of it.  The tablet must have been set to stream to Mr. C’s device.  Sick bastard like to watch the deaths real-time, over and over again.

“So super-strength, Burgess?  Or is there another reason you can kill with such speed and precision?”

“Are you fucking kidding me?”  Burgess jerked at the chains once again, this time jostling the table regardless of its legs being bolted to the floor. “You’ve got me locked up because you think I have super-strength?  Did you forget I was a Navy Seal?”

“Oh, I know, but even with that background the kill was fast…too fast.  Besides, I feel better knowing you’re contained until we figure out what happened.”

“Contained?  Really, Crunkelton, I could kill you twelve different ways while still contained.” 

Burgess couldn’t say he was surprised when the fat bastard pulled out a gun and aimed it at his head.  Humans always resorted to guns and most had no idea how to use them properly.

“Good point, perhaps I should just kill you now and be done with it.”

“Sure, you could…but, I know you won’t.”

“Really, why is that? I have the gun and it’s pointed at your head.  All I have to do is pull the trigger.”

“Yep, but you still haven’t asked me the real question you have. Go ahead, ask.”

Crunkelton grunted and Burgess could see the gun in his hand shake.

“Why did you run to the town of Talbot’s Peak?”

Burgess’ gut clenched as he thought of Penny, his hot domme, and love of his life.  He’d needed her to sooth the pain of watching those children die, he’d needed to wrap her around him and refresh his battered soul…he’d just plain needed her.  What he hadn’t expected to find was his woman with death surrounding her like a thin black veil. Now, in order to save her, he had to do the one thing he swore never to do.

“Well?” Crunkelton grunted. “Why there!”

He had to bring her into this world. “Word on the street is the hot piece of ass your ambulance chaser there stopped me from talking to is one hell of a Dominatrix.  Apparently, Talbot’s Peak has quite a scene going and I wanted to indulge.”

“You wanted to debase yourself for a shape-, er, she-, ah…woman?”

Burgess waited, hoping Crunkelton would finally slip and out his own knowledge of shapeshifters so they could start the end game of this plan, but he held on and covered his slip.  Now Burgess had to do the same…

“Submission, Crunkelton, is the ultimate strength.”
So this week it was Burgess' turn to share.  Whatever his plan is(it would sure be nice if they confided the plan with the author)...I hope he gets to Mistress P in time!

Have a great weekend!

Wednesday, June 18, 2014

Witch's Moon - chapter 5, part 2

We took seats opposite of Lex at the long conference table and settled in to wait for our host to return. Mooney said nothing, just stretched his six foot plus body out in what was clearly a relaxed pose. He was letting Lex know that he felt not the least bit threatened, a silly thing since Lex could probably have taken the wolf in open combat. Lex may not be more than a few inched taller than my own five foot three, but he was an ancient Egyptian demi god. One didn't survive that pantheon for four thousand years without knowing how to defend oneself. I knew this first hand, having been subjected to the Egyptians for most of my life.

Besides, Lex kind of wrote Mooney's pay checks. My wolf needed to watch himself.

Lex, by contrast, seemed perfectly content to sit across from us lie the cat that he was, watching to see if we got nervous so that he could pounce. We didn't of course. It was a near thing for me. My relationship with Lex was more than a little screwed up. He was one part father figure, one part obnoxious uncle and one part teacher with a dash of big brother thrown in for good measure. While he had never made any moves towards me in a sexual sense, he had also not made any effort to protect me from the perverts of Ra's court.Had even encouraged me to use my feminine whiles on his behalf from time to time, including with Mooney. I did not get why he was showing this passive-aggressive resistance to me and Mooney snuggling and it was starting to piss me off royally.

Just as I was about to loose my cool, the door to the conference room opened and the smell of sizzling fajitas wafted in followed by none other than Gypsy Rose. She was wearing a barely-there black kimono robe that did nothing to hide the fact that she was still wearing her stage costume minus the snake, which meant she was pretty much nude.

"Put the try on the table, love," she murmured to the waiter in her husky southern drawl. "We'll serve ourselves." All eyes were on the sexy red wolf as the waiter slid the huge try of sizzling meat, peppers, onions, and tortillas onto the table. All eyes other than Mooney's, anyway. I couldn't help but feel pleased that the nearly naked she-wolf failed to draw his attention away from the food. Hell, I half way wanted to jump her and I didn't swing that way. That didn't mean he wanted me over Gypsy, of course, only that he wanted fajitas more than he wanted to ogle a beautiful woman, but I was taking what I could get. And then he dished me up a plate of meat and peppers.

"Moon-dog, witches don't eat meat," Gypsy said with a smirk. Mooney stopped scooping food onto the plate he'd put in front of me and looked down sheepishly. I smiled at him, then stared at her, and pulled the plate closer.

"Wow, this smells awesome. Can you pass me a tortilla, babe?" I smiled at Mooney coyly and I popped a slice of green pepper into my mouth. He smiled back, looking a little uncertain about this but he did hand me a tortilla.

"Do you, you know, eat meat?" he asked quietly. I didn't answer, preferring to show him by popping a slice of beef in my mouth. Wait. That was not beef. That was... I didn't want to know what that was. I focused on chewing it enough to safely swallow it.

"What's the matter, monkey-child?" Lex said with a smirk, not making any move toward to food. "Cat got your tongue?"

"What an... interesting texture," I said carefully around the last traces of meat-like stuff in my mouth. "Um, that's not beef, is it?"

"No," Gypsy said with a smirk. "It's road kill special."

"Road kill?" I looked down at the meat still on my plate and carefully swallowed what remained in my mouth.

"It's, ah, mountain lion," Mooney said, grabbing for my plate. I slapped his hand away. Wolves tended to use food as courtship and he'd given me this food with his own hands. I could work with this. While I wasn't enthusiastic about eating animal flesh, this was inarguably organic and all natural, which did fit in with my food preferences. And it wasn't anything too strange.

"Ah. Yes, I guess the cat did have my tongue," I said, trying to joke about it. Lex snorted.

"What did you think it was, monkey-child?" he asked sarcastically.

"Well, when I heard 'road kill,' I admit I got a horrible premonition that I was being fed raccoon..."

Laughter filled the small room. Go me, I'd managed to amuse a room full of predators. I leaned over and gave Mooney a little peck on the chin--I couldn't reach his check while sitting down--and began filling a tortilla with peppers and onions and exactly one small piece of meat, all the while hoping Dante would come back so we could get on with this.

As if he'd been waiting for exactly that moment, the door opened and Dante stepped in. He had another wolf with him, one I didn't know. Mooney did, though. I saw him stiffen suddenly. Lex's snide grin turned malicious and Gypsy's amused smirk died. I put the food down and looked into a pair of very hostile, arctic blue wolf eyes.

"Nick," Mooney said, standing up and placing himself between me and the new comer. Ah, the big brother who had fired Mooney after his court appearance the other day. Mooney didn't talk about his brother much, but I had gotten the distinct impression that Nick didn't think very highly of Mooney. Judging by the looks I was receiving, Nick really didn't approve of his little brother trying to defend me from him. Oh, damn. Oh, holy hot damn, how was I going to get out of this? Without giving up Mooney, of course. I just ate freaking road kill for the big lunk; no way was I going to just walk away from him without a fight or even a taste of what being with the hunky wolf was like.

No one moved. No one even breathed for a long moment as the two brothers stared each other down. Nick the alpha who was expressing his displeasure. Mooney the beta who was expressing his independence. I began to realize that while Nick was not pleased to see me sitting there wearing Mooney's coat, because I still hadn't given it back, this was not about me at all and Mooney wasn't letting Nick make it about me. This was about a pack alpha who'd left one of his wolves hang out to dry. Mooney had left a lucrative career in San Diego to come back to Talbot's Peak and work at the pack's business at Nick's request. Yeah, Mooney had gotten himself into trouble, but Nick had turned his back on his little brother, too. Logic never holds much sway in family spats, after all.

Finally, Nick turned his back on Mooney and took a seat at the far end of the table, catty corner to Lex and right next to Gypsy Rose. Dante didn't take a seat, choosing to lean against the wall in a tough guy pose. Everyone started breathing again.

"Well, monkey-child," Lex began. "We are all here. What is it you found so very important?"

* * * * * * * * * *

Today's post is a little bit shorter than I'd originally planned. The last 2 pages or so of this chapter just didn't
feel right, if you know what I mean. This morning, I saw a rather silly post on FB that zinged. It's like it was saying, "this is what the characters want to do, not that boring stuff you already wrote for them." So, I am listening to the picture and reworking the last two pages. The picture to the right is the one that is talking to me, BTW. Have a great week!

~ Rebecca

Tuesday, June 17, 2014

Our Space Chariot Awaits

Tuesday howls and yowls, shapeshifter lovers.

Gosh, I've been lost in the doldrums today, as in lacking energy. The high humidity doesn't help. Anyhoo, I hope you enjoy this little fantasy-fun flash scene.

Our Space Chariot Awaits

"My kingdom for a real man." Khaidan leaned on the windowsill of her favorite window gazing up at the star-filled night sky. "Maybe that should be, my queendom for a real man."

Once again the desperate urge plagued her. Over the long years, she'd tried various self-help methods but hadn't been successful in ridding herself of this sharp terrible longing. No, the emotional pain seemed to own her soul.

Yeah, likely it would always own her soul. Khaidan sighed, then leaned farther out the open window, having removed the screen when first moving into the place. The view had been more important than dealing with the insect population.

With her heart on permanent ache, Khaidan swept her gaze over the familiar constellations, and wondered if she'd also catch sight of a UFO. Oh yeah, she'd seen a few obvious 'unknowns' zigzagging across the sky. Then there were the stationary, Christmas-tree light objects that formed arrows, as if pointing to something.

Nothing tonight. Only the gorgeous array of stars. "I can't even wish on the first star," Khaidan murmured, while desperately wishing her painful desire would simply cease to exist. "Poof, go away," she ordered in a whisper that sounded pathetic to her ears.

Despite being exhausted earlier, Khaidan hadn't been able to sleep worth a damn. Now she felt wired in a strange way, as if she stood on an invisible precipice.

To amuse herself, she made up, "Starlight, star bright, all the stars I see tonight. I wish I may I wish might have this wish I wish tonight." A real man. A planet full of real men. Anything...

A howl split the night air, the sound eerie, with a force that tingled through her veins. Nervously, Khaidan threaded her fingers through her loose hair, then shook her head. Supernatural, she thought.

Okay, coyotes roamed the rural area, and she was used to hearing their howls and hunting yips. But this...

Another howl. Larger than life, with a power that caused her to outright tremble. Khaidan stepped back from the window. Brawny arms wrapped around her.

Stunned, fear racing through her, Khaidan froze. Her mind blanked. Yet she felt a male body that could only be described as hunky in the extreme. Whoever he was, whatever his foul intentions, he held her like a lover.

When her thoughts kicked back in, Khaidan envisioned a dozen different ways to save herself -- the scenes flashing rapidly. Yet, even with adrenalin quickening her heart beat, her body didn't respond, staying perfectly still.

"I have found you," a sinfully smoky voice poured into her ear. And before she knew it, Khaidan was whirled around.

She stared into fathomless dark eyes with glints of starlight, at a face that looked both primal and aristocratic. Her tongue refused to untie itself, but the question echoed through her head, who are you?

Aware the man continued to hold her in a lover's embrace, Khaidan's arms finally moved, her hands instinctively planting themselves on his chest. No need to ask if he worked out.

"I have searched the galaxy for where you incarnated." Again the smoky irresistible tone.

"Incarnated," Khaidan squeaked out, but huskily. Damn, could his mouth be more kissable?

"A long story. You were kidnapped. Before I could rescue you, your soul escaped."

Khaidan frowned, befuddled to the max. He sure didn't act like a rapist, or her idea of one.

"Your memories will return once..." He paused, studying her with an intensity that made Khaidan want to squirm... but not squirm out of his arms. "The shadow of incarnating in this realm blocks your soul's remembrance."

"Does it now?" she semi-snapped back, some of her spirit returning. "Have a name?"

Khaidan's breath rushed past her lips as his gaze glittered with amusement, as his lips tipped upward into a small smile. "I am known as Zherkol, the Sky Coyote."

Something indefinable tugged at the back of Khaidan's memory, flitting away before she could grab hold. "Sky Coyote?"

"Dreams," he prompted. "Do you recall your recent dreams of a coyote?"

Crystal clear, the images appeared, and Khaidan jerked as the large handsome coyote morphed into a human figure. "You?" she mouthed, disbelieving, thinking somehow she'd fallen asleep, and had to be dreaming. Instead of...

"Me," he announced, his gaze teasing her.

"I don't understand."

"You know you've always adored shapeshifters."

His words certainly rang true, given her raging appetite for shifter romance novels, and for reading nonfiction paranormal books on the subject.

"I am dreaming this, right?" Sure, right, here she was asking a dream character if he was a dream. Yeah, that worked.

"You've always been my dream woman," he intoned flirtatiously, even as he rocked her in his embrace.

"And how did you get here?" Khaidan asked, as if the question mattered to anything in this over-the-top bizarre scenario.

"Wanna take a ride?" Zherkol singsonged in his virile voice. "Our space chariot awaits."

Khaidan opened her mouth to speak, but what did she say? A myriad of emotions charged through her, with total bewilderment at the top of the list. Discovering she stroked his forearms, Khaidan tried, "Where are we going?"

"Not to infinity and beyond," Zherkol drily bantered. "Just a hop and a cloud-skip away to a place called Talbot's Peak, Montana."

"That's over... well, a long way from here." Khaiden spun inside, dizzy with what happened... or didn't... or...

"It's a haven for shapeshifters. If you like the place we'll settle there. That is, once we get to know each other again." The confidence in Zherkol's tone couldn't be missed.

Khaidan found herself running her hands up his beautifully muscled arms covered in some kind of mystery fabric that reminded her of silk and suede combined. "Just pack up and move?"

"Why not? The space chariot makes a good, is it 'moving van'? when needed." Zherkol swept his hands over her back, and Khaidan nearly moaned. "Can I entice you into dining with me? The selection of establishment's is most excellent."

"Not a thing to wear," Khaidan spoke her first thought, her hands wandering over his chest.

"Easily solved, Khaidan."

"Hey, I didn't tell you my name."

Before she knew it, Zherkol hauled her upward and handily tossed her over his big broad shoulder. Pivoting in the small room, he strode for the back door of Khaidan's farm house.

"A man always knows the name his woman has chosen... once he finds her."


Wishing you love and passion on the wild side ...


Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance