Autumn howls and yowls, shapeshifter lovers.
It's all about LOVE right now, as the sun enters Libra, and the New Moon rises in Libra, the astrological sign ruled by Venus.
And, yes, we ShapeShifter Seduction Authors are joining in the Snarkology Halloween Blog Hop 2014 ~ October 27th-31st. So get ready for a fun Howl-o-ween romp and ride with lots of prizes.
Also, we might just have a 'surprise' for shapeshifter readers on the near horizon. Stay tuned.
Dante liked to bite 'trouble' in the ass...
Dante, alpha werewolf, strode along one of the longer corridors of his massive subterranean complex. Over the years the Interspecies Pleasure Club, as he'd originally named it, had grown beyond his wildest, most fantastical dreams. But that was all to the good, despite the constant demands on his time, his life.
On the way to a meeting with his staff about the UnMasked Beast Ball, one of the club's Halloween events, he waved Deuce over. The young, biker wolf shifter was one of his trusted operatives in the field.
His strong scent, along with Deuce's furrowed brow and dour expression, told Dante his 007 wolf man had stepped into a pile of scat that could erupt into major trouble. Dante liked to bite 'trouble' in the ass before it had a chance to run amok.
Dante mentally growled as images of the recent hellephant hellacious battle flooded his mind. Scat city! He could still smell the mountainous piles of the mutant mammoth werewolf's crap.
"What are you sniffin' in the wind?" he asked, the instant Deuce strode beside him.
"You know an alpha wolf named Osbourne, Ozzy for short?"
"Only by bad reputation," Dante answered, not missing a stride. "My bouncers had to toss him out on his depraved ass several times. Finally had to ban the perv-idjit from the above-ground bar."
"Sayin' something when you have to ban a wolf from a bad-ass biker bar." Deuce barked an unamused laugh.
"He was whoring out the pack's she-wolves. Consensual pleasure is one thing. Forcin' his she-wolves is another... almost gave chase one night... was about to tear his ass a new fierce one." Dante whirled, facing Deuce, who almost collided with him. "That is, until one of the pack's Shes, said her name was Destiny, grabbed my arm saying their pack was working with my sire."
A growl curled Dante's lips. His fangs lengthened. "I don't run his territory. He doesn't run mine. Right now." Pausing, he quelled his instinct to challenge his reprobate sire, Damien. "That could change."
"Osbourne wasn't gathering intel at the bar?" Deuce looked confused, and he'd tensed, ready for a fight with their enemies.
"Had a long conversation with Destiny about her pack's inner workings. Discovered Osbourne was doing his dirty deals on the sly... right under my sire's *king of the hill*nose. I shouldn't have let it pass. Somehow she convinced me to wait. Said others in her pack were planning a rebellion. Guess that didn't happen."
"Nope. From my pricked ear, it's gone from bad to mega-bad."
"Yeah," Dante spun around, and resumed his stride. "The whole create an unstoppable monster thing with that mad scientist of his, must have consumed my sire to the point he had no eyes to see, no ears to hear...even if the anaconda could have bit his snout, then swallowed him whole."
"From my reckoning," Deuce paused, and Dante knew he waited for permission.
"Spill it scat-quick, secret agent wolf. Halloween waits for no one, and I got a room full of witches waiting."
"We can either sic Nick on Osbourne, let the G&B Gazette get the credit for exposing this piece o' filthy fur. Or, I can give the intel to Damien's enforcer pack."
"Let my sire clean up this stinking perverted mess that is Osbourne, and his minions. Has a certain ironic appeal. But hold off on yelping to the enforcer pack. I'll give Nick a holler later. Let him weigh in first."
"Got it, boss wolf. A room full of witches? Do I get to play?" Deuce asked, as Dante came to a quick halt, grabbing hold of the door handle.
"Yeah, biker boy. All you have to do is unmask the beast you are." Dante rumbled a chuckle, amused. "Question is, can you dance the cotillion?"
"Cotillion?" Deuce cocked his head, frowning with the effort to remember.
Dante took a moment to grin wide. "Think square dancing while wearing the formal attire popular during the time of Louis XV. While costumed as your beast side."
"What the effing..."
"Look at it this way. A lot of the ladies love it. The formal sophisticated side of a man... let's say, mated to his primitive beast side."
"Huh?" Deuce eyed him -- for a split second -- as if Dante was drunk on whiskey-marinated raw steak.
"Ever read or watch that fairytale that's not a fairytale -- "Beauty and the Beast"?" Dante arched his brow, enjoying these moments of educating the young wolf about the inner desires of some females -- whether the women knew it or not.
"Sure, know about it. But you're saying I should give up the black leather gear for foo-foo frilly shirts, breeches, and hose? Scat, didn't they wear that brocade stuff too, like those fancy Nehru jackets in the late sixties... Dad has one. "
"Come on, biker boy. I know you get plenty of humping action as a black leather beast. But this is all about impressing the ladies in a different way, letting them live their princess fantasies."
Dante watched Deuce's dark gaze change from consternation to a bright flare of understanding. "Does this work on witches? If it does, I'm in."
"Cotillion classes start next week. Sign up."
"Yeah-howls, for the ladies." Deuce grinned, and Dante figured he had one particular witch in mind. Scat, the clouding smell of his lust couldn't be missed.
With the influx of beautiful witches from all corners of the world, during the past year, Dante didn't know who the young wolf had his nose tilted to... but he obviously hadn't approached her yet.
"I'll send word to our costume designers to 'fit' you in, biker boy. You'll want to get used to wearing that Louis XV frilly gear. Feels different against the crotch, if get my drift." Dante winked.
"Appreciate that, boss wolf." Deuce shoved his hands in the pockets of his black leather pants, even as he began to turn and be on his way.
"Ever dance with a woman in one of those French era gowns?" Dante thought to ask.
"Nope. Not yet. Looking forward to it now."
"Practice makes perfect. Especially with witches," Dante teased, then shoved through the door.
Wishing you love and passion on the wild side ...
Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance