Wednesday, September 30, 2015

New Beginings

Gloria was spending the evening as she spent most evenings, gazing adoringly at Moon-moon, her sexy brainiac werewolf boyfriend. She wasn't sure what turned her on about him most. His body was any woman's wet dream, all tall and sinewy. Lots of rolling muscles tucked under velvety smooth light skin, and toffee colored hair that was always shaggy and messy, making her think he'd just rolled out of bed and wouldn't mind taking her back into his bed to play. She'd be lying, though, if she didn't admit to being totally seduced by his exceptional brain. He was both a friggin' genius with anything electronic--literally--and he had a very sophisticated sense of humor most people were too full of themselves to understand. He was playful, finding joy in every moment. And then there was the thrill of danger. Hello, he was a wolf!

The only thing she didn't understand about him was what he saw in her. She was a short, thin little weregoose. Not a mongoose or an eagle or any other fierce, noble animal. A goose. Her hair was the same odd brownish-gray of her feathers, and so fly-away that the only hairstyle that worked with it was a long, layered shag cut reminiscent of Goldie Hawn circa nineteen seventy-one. Except not in pretty blond. Sure, her chest was seriously built, but that was a common feature of all avian shape shifters. Seriously built chests look a lot better on men than women, in her opinion. On her, it made her look like bubble-boob Barbie, the stuff of pre-teen boy fantasies and pervs.

 She wasn't even all that smart. She graduated high school last year with a 4.0 GPA mainly through slavish study habits and careful consideration to her class selections. Now that she was in college, her lack of natural scholastic talent was becoming painfully obvious. She sighed and forced herself to get back to her writing assignment. Why she'd chosen Modern Creative Writing 101 was a mystery.

No, that wasn't true. She knew why she chose it. Being able to tell people that she was a writer had seemed so smart and sophisticated, someone worthy of Brian's love and attention. She may not be able to keep up with an electrical engineer like Brian when it came to science, but writers were known to be very cerebral people. Then she made the mistake of believing her professor when he said they could pick any genre they wanted for their semester writing project. They had until Thanksgiving to hand in an original rough draft of a novel length book. She'd chosen romance. Apparently, romance was not a respected genre in literary circles.

She could have changed her genre. Professor Greene did offer to let her do so after he handed her the composite genre tip sheet for romance, which she was expected to follow, when he saw the look on her face after reading it. She might have accepted his offer had he not used a disparaging attitude. She was a goose, damn it. No one could out stubborn a goose with her feathers up! She was going to write the best goddamn romance novel ever!


Tuesday, September 29, 2015

Did the man lift mountains as a hobby?

End of September howls and yowls, shapeshifter lovers.

Here's another continuation of my recent flash scenes, *One Shade of Silver Wolf* and *Thundercloud yanked on his mental leash.*.  Thundercloud and Kailla are at Talbot Peak's BBQ cookoff and faire, standing at one of the arts and crafts booths.


Did the man lift mountains as a hobby?

Kailla willed her feet to move, to become unglued from the sidewalk. She needed to walk away, walk anywhere...leave! ... there was just something about the man standing behind her. That 'something' tingle-shivered through her as if she suddenly found herself naked on a iceberg. What the hell?!

'Move!' she commanded her feet, even as the man began to answer the carver.

"Perfect, Carl. Those silvery shades are most popular with our customers. Count on my brother, Storm, to be in touch soon."

With the man's towering low voice doing the silky dance through her, Kailla twisted around to get a glimpse of him. Yeah, she'd failed. But, who had a brother named Storm? And he was called Thunder...

Her gaze kept rising. Eye-to-eye with his fab-abs at first—covered only by the stretchy clingy, dark gray material of his muscle shirt—Kailla stopped at the over-large breadth of his chest. Did the man lift mountains as a hobby?

"New in town?" the man pleasantly inquired. Although, the undertone of his voice was electric, just like a coming thunderstorm. And her body reacted.

"Yes." Somehow the word croaked out of her constricted throat. Her gaze found his face, having halted again at his neck... a strong corded column, yet not bulky. He wasn't the prize fighter type as her Dad would say.

Kailla absolutely stared at his bold features. Viking...the stuff of a woman's fantasies. Oh, damn...

"Thundercloud," he introduced himself. He started to raise his hand, as if he would shake hers. But there wasn't enough room between them.

Good thing. If she touched him... well, his hand might feel way too good ... and she really, really didn't want to get involved. Besides, who knew what manly mojo he possessed? And, who could miss his interest in her—shining like a neon sign in his lake-blue eyes.

"Kailla." Yeah, involuntarily her name had escaped. What now? She could say something like 'I need to go' ... 'nice meeting you' ... then just turn away...

"Which carving is your favorite, Kailla?" he conversationally asked... yet that *lightning in the air* feeling still zapped her. And why did her name have to feel so good when he said it?

And why couldn't he be a dolt with pathetically few brain cells. No, oh no, a super intelligence lurked behind those Viking eyes. Double damn. Her only saving grace, the hormone thing hadn't kicked in... well, not fully. She could still walk away.

Instead... "They're all beautiful. Amazing, really. I take it you like wolves."

Something flickered in the depths of his eyes. A secret? Kailla usually knew when someone lied, or was being deceptive. She'd been that way since a small child.

She'd also learned the hard way, as a kid, that some secrets should be kept hidden. To protect the innocent. Yeah, some secrets could be misinterpreted, then used like machine-gun ammo to take someone good down. Throughout her life, she'd watched it happen, time and time again. And been victimized herself a few times. Enemies were around every corner, especially in the current super-surveillance climate.

"You could say I like wolves," he smoothly responded. "There are several packs around here. I've seen them in the wilds."

Eeriness washed over Kailla. "I saw a wolf just before arriving in town. A huge silver one. It was strange," she tacked on, even as goosebumps slithered down her arms.

"How so?" Again that flicker, and a speculative darkening of his eyes.

"I didn't think wolves chased vehicles. I know he wasn't a dog. Unless, he was less than half wolf." Kailla paused, assessing the man's expression. "Are the wolves in this area aggressive toward people?"

"In the last several years there have been a few incidents of wolves being aggressive. However, so far, it's been against bad guys. Those who have hurt others." Thundercloud's stance eased. His penetrating gaze remained the same. "No one was killed or hurt seriously. Although..."

"Although?" Kailla quirked a brow, sensing there was a complexity to the situation he wasn't revealing.

An audible whoosh of breath passed between his admittedly gorgeous lips. "Some years ago before I and my brothers arrived, there was a change in the power structure of the town." After a hesitation, he continued. "As I understand, a woman named Kitty was threatened after she wrote a letter to editor of the G & B Gazette. She complained about the change in the paper. The word 'roadkill' was used, and some charged, believed a werewolf pack had taken over Talbot's Peak."

"Wow... that is, is unusual." Taken aback by his words, Kailla wondered that she didn't take actual steps backward.

"That story brings in the tourists," Carl, the wood carver, piped up. "Nowadays folks believe the wolves are like spirit-animal protectors. Right, Thunder?"

"Right. Like you say. Kailla, if you'd like to meet Kitty, she runs the library in town. She's also Dante's girl. He owns the business complex where my brothers and I have a nightclub."

Nightclub. Images ran rampant through her head. A Viking hunk who apparently owns a nightclub. Did his brothers resemble him?

"That's why all the wolf art?" Kailla figured she'd go down that trail, for now. That is, instead of explaining she'd already met Kitty, by phone, by Skype, and was about to teach computer research skills at the library. "People think of the wolves as protectors?"

Thunder gave a short nod. "Would you like a spirit wolf in wood form? I'd like to buy one for you."

A gift. Double oh no! The man was real serious about getting to know her. Decision time.

'Walk away,' Kailla told herself. Repeatedly told herself. Say anything, make any excuse. Just leave.

Was she nodding in acceptance? Good God! What was she doing? Every particle of her wanted to cocoon for awhile. Lick her wounds. Adjust to life in Talbot's Peak.

But no... other parts of her sparked to life. Unable to prevent her next words, Kailla heard herself speak. "Thank you. I'd like a spirit wolf, given I'll be living in Talbot's Peak. I'm sure I need the good luck, the protection."

Did Thunder's features just transform? What appeared to be a satisfied smile flashed across his face. His eyes glowed bluer, the gleam almost supernatural.

"Let's find out which one is your favorite." He pivoted and swept his arm over the display.

Still attempting to talk herself out of accepting a gift from him, Kailla tore her gaze from his face. She turned around, and with deliberate care studied the lovely carvings. Was there one that closely resembled the enormous silver wolf she'd seen charging her minivan?

"How about this one?" Carl reached beneath his table producing a carving that was substantially larger than the ones on the table. The running wolf had been carved out of a silvery wood.

"Oooh, I like it. Wait. Isn't this too expensive?" Okay, her thrifty nature had surfaced. But, she didn't want this Thunder guy thinking he could buy her, either.

Still, as Carl handed the beautiful powerful wolf to her, Kailla took hold. She wanted a closer look at the magnificent wood sculpture. She wanted to feel it. Yep, she was tactile by nature also. Studying the carving's detail, she stroked over the wolf with one fingertip.

"Hardly too expensive." Thunder spoke in a magnanimous growl.

"I'll put it on your bill." Carl's enthusiasm at the sell couldn't be missed. Okay, who was she to deny him a living? Not like artists had it easy. Usually.

"Why don't I wrap that up for you?" Carl retrieved one of his attractive bags, and reached for the tissue paper.

Kailla handed over the wolf carving. The deed was done. She'd have to deal with the consequences. With that in mind, she faced Mr. Viking Thundercloud.

'Thank you,' formed on her lips. But before she could speak, he asked, "Are you hungry?"

Embarrassingly, her stomach growled. "Obviously hungry like a wolf." Kailla grinned a little at him. "Missed some meals on my drive to Talbot's Peak."

"Why don't we do a tour and decide which BBQ stand to try first." Thundercloud offered his arm.



Wishing you love and passion on the wild side ~ 


Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance

Monday, September 28, 2015

Overheard at First Lunch Period

Sophie Miller barely got in one bite on her watercress-on-wheat sandwich before Drew Klein flopped down on the chair beside her. His elbow almost knocked her juice box over. He paid no attention to her or the disaster he’d nearly caused, simply dumped his own lunch, a pile of fresh fruits and veggies, out on a tray. He began to chow down as if he was all alone at the lunch table.

“Hey!” Sophie said. She edged her chair and her tray out of harm’s way. “Watch where you’re sitting, you big ox.”

“Buffalo,” Drew corrected with a carrot stuffed into his mouth. “Can’t you tell the difference by now? I thought you goats were supposed to have good eyesight.”

“It’s pronghorn,” Sophie informed him archly. “Can’t you tell the difference by now?”

“Whatever.” He continued to chomp loudly.

Sophie wrinkled her nose. “Gross,” she proclaimed. “You always graze with your mouth open?”

“You don’t like it, go sit somewhere else.”

“I was here first. You sit somewhere else.”

“There wasn’t anywhere else. You think I’d sit with a skinny little pronghorn if I had a choice?”

“There’s the buffalo table. Go sit over there with the rest of your zit-faced herd.”

“We’re not zit-faced.”

“Are too. And you’re scruffy. How do you see with all that hair in your eyes?”

“Yeah, well, your breath smells funny. I heard you goats graze in landfills.”

“I’m not a goat. But you’re a cow. A big, fat cow with a hair condition. And zits.”

“I take it back. You are a landfill. Who else would eat a lettuce-on-lettuce sandwich?”

“I’ve smelled the stuff your herd leaves behind. That’s not chips, that’s toxic waste. You couldn’t even get into a landfill. Maybe if you ate more grains and less sagebrush, you wouldn’t have that problem.”

“Yeah? Well, you’re the stuff that comes out of the sewer drain.”

“You’re the stuff that overflows when the sewer drain backs up.”

“Fart for brains.”

“Pimple face.”

“Barf breath.”

“Rug hair.” She added triumphantly, “And you shed.”

Drew set aside the pickle he’d been gnawing on. “Your mama grazes in garbage dumps.”

Sophie’s eyes narrowed. “Your mama does it with carnivores.”

“You’re gonna get trampled.”

“That’s all those big feet of yours are good for. You don’t even trample. You just trip over people. It’s because you can’t see where you’re going with all that hair in your face.”

Drew took a swipe at her chin-length cut. “Jealous much, baldy?”

“You’re gonna get poked.”

“Don’t you mean butted? Goat.”


“Go eat a tin can, Bahhhhhh-bee.”

“Go stampede off a cliff, Spitting Bull.”

Over at the horse table, Edgar Paloosa shook his mane. “What’s up with them?”

His sister Sheila didn’t even look up from her barley soup. “Isn’t it obvious? They like each other.”

“No they don’t. They’ve been arguing since they sat down.”

Sheila snorted. “You boys are so clueless.”

“Got it!” Kerry Danes added one last hasty scribble, then triumphantly held up a sheet of paper. “Finally, new material. Next time my cousins gang up on me, I’m gonna let ‘em have it. I love high school.”

Saturday, September 26, 2015

Two Dragons For Lilily Chapter 1 Part 3

“Red hot coals for fiery dragons.”  Ned chuckled.

“You ain’t gonna get me red,” Adam replied.  “Think you got lyrics ready since your mind is working.”

Ned hissed at him.  Then picked up the pen close to him.  He pulled the pad he’d scribbled notes on earlier to him.  “Not as X-rated as earlier.”

Adam shook his head.  “Songs preferably no hotter than R rated.”

 Ned laughed again.  “Humans and their restraints.”

“Social niceties,” Adam added.  “We observe similar practices within our pack.”

“Prides. Packs.  It all comes down to conservatism.” Ned pointed to two lines on his pad.  “What about this? Your kisses are sweet.  What a wine I sip.”

Adam groaned.  “You’ve done better.”

“Inspiration, dude.  I need inspiration.” Ned tossed his pen on the pad.  “Maybe we need to go Lilly watching.”

“Leave the confectioner out of this,” Woody called out.

“Wood, give him a pass.  I’ll chaperone.  ‘Sides we need groceries and more coffee.” Adam pulled Ned’s pad to him.  “I’ll make up the list.  You call out what the cabinets lack.”

“I’m gonna take a shower. Get presentable.” Ned rose, humming as he walked away.

Adam stood, shaking his head, taking the pad with him.  Ned’s libido kicked into overdrive usually when his dragon essence went through its mating phase.  With the dragon corralled, it usually dropped.  Apparently, this Lilly affected his human side too.

Adam hastily wrote down as Woody called out from the kitchen. “We need: Steaks, milk four gallons, ice cream, chocolate, cheese, burgers, ribs, eggs, bacon, and twelve whole chickens.” 

Adam leaned into the kitchen.  “Whole chickens?”

“Yes.  Soup stock and Aaron’s chicken salad.”  Woody exited the kitchen passing Adam.  He made his way to the table and sat down.

Aaron, their bass guitarist, made a chicken salad that had chefs from four-star restaurants begging for the recipe.

“Don’t we need celery, garlic, and that organic mayo?’ Adam started adding the items to the list.  He tossed the pad on the table and sat down next to Woody. 

“He’s making his own.  Ask him what he needs and add it to the list.”  Woody pulled out his wallet and tossed several pieces of paper currency on the table.

“What’s this?” Adam asked picking up one of the bills. 

“Talbot’s Peak currency.  Stores in town won’t take other currency.  Gotta go way out on the interstate for that.” Woody slumped in his chair.


Happy Weekend Gang!

We learn more about our dragon shifters.  One cooks....can we oooh and ah?  I've had it on good promise that chapter one is almost done.  Chapter Two introduces Lilly to us.  I hear she is medium build, fiery red hair, and hazel eyes.   I'm beginning to see why Ned and Adam are attracted to her.

Fall is here.  Coolness is coming.  I had the heater on in the car twice this week as I drove to work.  Soon the colors will come and Gaia will put on her fancy dress before she sleeps.  Enjoy this time with your family and friends.  We are here at the Spice Homestead.  Keep a few good books handy to share with your Spice and loves.  I know I am!

Until Next Week,


Friday, September 25, 2015

A Perfect Example...

...of how my week has gone.

Unfortunately, I only have about half my blog written today, but I do have a reason.  A head cold has run rampant through the Diva household.  Darling Diva was sick all last weekend and home from school three days this week, Alpha Diva (he hates when I call him that, but I persist in the hopes of getting a spanking when he feels better ~grinz~) has been feeling off and I've been feeling the beginnings of, what for me, becomes weeks of yuck.

On the flip side, I've been maxing out my Orange Juice intake and hitting the vitamins in the hopes this will pass me by with just a bit of a cold.  Who knows, now it's a waiting game.  :)

Have a great weekend, y'all.  I'll see you next week with more on Nick and Ziva.  I promise!


Tuesday, September 22, 2015

High voltage might as well have zapped...

A pup-baby pic of Dugger, dingo shifter. ~grinz~

Autumn howls and yowls, shapeshifter lovers.

Can you feel the Halloween season lurking around the proverbial corner? Yep, like a werewolf on the hunt. All the weres, shifters, and supernaturals in Talbot's Peak territory  are feeling the pulse and pull of this open-the-veil celebration.

Okay, as usual, I have time constraints. Also, the Muse insisted on continuing Keina and Drev's erotic love story, Waiting For a Filly Girl, a SHAPESHIFTER SEDUCTIONS WIP. This is a good thing, since I'd love to get their story finished and pubbed.

So, here's an *unedited, raw draft* of Chapter Forty. This scene provides a look at the Peak's shifter culture, as well as a glimpse inside Dante's Interspecies Pleasure Club... but, no, sad to disappoint, there is no x-rated action. Not yet.

Tagline: Ex super-soldier boy meets winged filly girl. Will they live happily ever after? In Talbot's Peak territory anything is possible.

Setup: Drev, Keina, and Dugger, along with his mate, Symone, have just finished their guardian patrol of TP territory, and are now on their way to enjoy dinner together.

Chapter Forty ~

High voltage might as well have zapped Drev, given Keina's eagerness. Damn, he hated like hell to deny her. And himself.

"Sorry, sweetheart. I'll show you our home away from home before we leave. But we need to get back to the cabin. There's a repair I have to make on the solar furnace."

She pressed her head against his arm, and affectionately rubbed. "I understand, Drev. No...I don't want to freeze."

"Me either. But we have plenty of time to put on the feedbag, then take a quick look-see at several nightclubs. I promise we'll make a night of it soon, my princess. We'll dress to paint the town red."

"Oooh, an official date night." Keina brightly crooned.

Drev heard Symone chuckle behind him. "Did you know Dante recently installed a huge screen with a 3D view of each nightclub, restaurant, shop, the sports center...all the businesses?" She paused an instant. "It's touch screen, and a layout of the Pleasure Club."

"No. How recent?" Drev tossed the question over his shoulder.

"About three weeks ago, I reckon, mate," Dugger answered. "Yeah, if you're thirsty for a pint just jab a digit on the pubs, and they blossom up real nice to 3D. I'm telling ya that Dante is spot on the dot."

"Yep, he percolates on hot. No debate there, my dingo-from-down-under friend. Have to say—never thought I'd be partnering with a werewolf, or hobnobbing with shifter and supernatural types. But here we are."

"Here we are," Keina echoed, as a large steel door slid open before them.

With Keina clinging to his arm, Drev stepped through to the well-lit guard room. He saluted the four bouncer types in his usual, easygoing manner. "How's it howling, gentlemen?"

"Got a message from Dante," the one in charge didn't waste any breath. "He'd like a meeting with the four of ya after you've enjoyed dinner and drinks."

"Sure thing. Did he specify where?" Drev asked, even as they moved toward another steel door that was opening for them.

"Dante said he'd find you. Not to worry about it. By the way, everything's on the house tonight."

"Thanks, gentlemen." Drev saluted again, as they walked into one of the main corridors.

"Must be one bugger of a favor the alpha wolfman wants." Dugger spoke once the bomb-impenetrable door locked into place behind them.

"Likely a major op of some kind." After several instants of pondering on what might be up, Drev glanced at Keina. She met his gaze, and the love magic flowed between them overshadowing the concern in the depths of her eyes.

"Righto," Dugger began. "Got a flea-itchy feeling somethin' big and nasty is threatenin' Peak territory."

From his peripheral vision, Drev watched Dugger and Symone stride beside them, their arms entwined.

"Just as long as it isn't another Franken-mammoth," Symone bantered, but on a serious note.

"The Hellephant," Drev answered Keina's questioning gaze. "Whatever's going on, it must not be a red-alert emergency."

"Not friggin' yet," Dugger drily stated.

"Eat, drink, and be merry," Keina chimed in, "then we face the monster."

"Is that a cultural truism from your realm?" Symone asked.

"No, it's a family dynastic thing. But celebrations are big in my world."

Not wanting Keina to dwell on her banishment, or the looming threat of Prince Tretorff, Drev sought a way to change the conversation. "Speaking of celebrations, have you heard what Dante, and his crack staff, have lined up for the Christmas season...for Winter Solstice?"

Symone laughed in a manner that suggested happy overwhelm. "The list is long and amazing. Dugger has been after me to choose my favorites."

"Anything my sheila wants."

"Except for...?" Symone prompted.

"Except for..." Drev spoke when Dugger didn't immediately respond.

"Except for," Keina piped up, as the dingo shifter still hesitated.

"Crickey, gangin' up on me. My aces pick this year is the Howl and Yowl Around the Yule Tree."

"Howl and Yowl Around the Yule Tree?" Keina asked, puzzlement owning her voice.

"It's a come as your beast-self celebration in the forest clearing closest to the club," Symone explained. "With amenities for us human types. Hot cider, hot chocolate, hot toddies. Meat roasted on an open fire. Oh, and there will be veggie goodies for any vegan and the herbie shifters, of course."

"Yeah, we'll be howling and yowling carols to the Sacred Creator around a right, tall, handsome Douglas fir," Dugger added. "A canine and feline back to nature rage-party, you might say."

"I've promised to attend with my wild dingo. That is, if I get to put a leash on him."
Symone's lighthearted laughter followed. Drev glanced her way, given this was first time he'd known her to be this carefree.

"Leash, yeah, I can slip my head out of that noose anytime. But for you, gorgeous, I'll act like a proper-trained poodle." Dugger swung Symone before him and gave her a big loud smooch on the lips.

Drev couldn't help but be a witness. He grinned down at Keina and they seized each other's lips in a passionate but fast kiss.

Gathering Keina close to his side again, Drev winked back at Dugger. The four of them strolled toward the Ye Olde English Tavern, the first drinking and food establishment Dante had built inside the Pleasure Club. As Drev understood it, the alpha werewolf made constant improvements, and now included a neighborhood like pub inside. Usually, he frequented several other nightclubs.

"Yule tree?" Keina inquired. "I've heard of Yule logs."

"Yule, or it's known as Yuletide, sweetheart. It's an archaic term for Christmas." Drev hugged her waist. "It was originally a twelve day festival. The pagans liked to party."

"Was it like "The Twelve Days of Christmas" song?" Symone asked.

"Probably a bloody historical link there." Dugger reached for the ornate iron door handle. 

"Wowser," Keina burst out. "That door." She stepped from Drev's hold, flattening her hand on the dark heavy wood. "It's similar to the castle doors in my realm."

"Really?" Drev stepped beside his filly girl, his interest piqued bigtime. "This is a replica of a medieval castle door."

"Medieval, of course," Keina murmured. She lightly ran her fingers over the large bronze plaque in the center of the door.

"There Be Shapeshifters of Every Kind. Beware of Fangs, Claws and Tails." Drev read the plaque out loud. 

"They should add, beware of handsome dingo shifters," Symone joked.

"Bang on," Dugger growled. He eased the door open, waiting for him and Keina to step back. "Beware of a dingo shifter who wants his sheila. Bloody hell, we'll rip through the belly of any beast."

"Right with you, pal." Drev burned with his own conviction.

Keina twined her arm with his. "That's my stud man." Adoration shone in her amethyst eyes, and she raised on tiptoe. "Mmm-mmm. You smell stud-virile. I can't wait to get you alone again."

"Patience," Drev teased, and touched his lips to hers. "I want my filly girl well fed so she doesn't run out of stamina."


Wishing you love and passion on the wild side ~ 


Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance

Monday, September 21, 2015

America's Next Top Shifter

Robbie stared down at the human woman before him for a full half a minute before he even bothered to glance at the business card she’d thrust into his hand. He stared at the card for the rest of the minute. Alessandra Moore—Fashion Photography and a cell phone number. When he looked back at her, his heart had filled with dread. The word fashion filled his head, flashing neon red like an alarm.

Her apparent tender age was the only ray of hope here. She didn’t appear much older than he was. Odds were good she’d never heard of his mother. But she was still a photographer. That was almost as bad as a reporter, or a blogger who thought they were a reporter.

He handed the card back, with some reluctance. She was cute for a human, once you got past the fashion photographer thing. Dark brown hair, wide blue eyes, round face. Her outfit was a sweater matched with a patterned skirt that shouldn’t have worked together but did. She knew how to style herself. Robbie could easily imagine them sharing a cup of coffee up at Java Joe’s, maybe a conversation sprinkled with easy laughter, maybe something beyond that. But not at the cost of his mother’s hard-won anonymity.

“Sorry,” he said, and was mildly surprised to realize he meant it. “I don’t do modeling. I didn’t even like getting my picture taken for my driver’s license. I have to get back to work.” He stepped away.

Or tried to. The woman latched onto his arm. Cripes. She had a grip like a python. Robbie sensed determination and froze. Humans were at their most dangerous when they got determined.

“You’ve got a commercial look,” she insisted. “Not the walk so much, but that’s okay. Would you mind if I took a couple of shots? When you’re not working, of course.”

“Look, Ms. Moore—”

“Call me Less. Moore or Less.” She shrugged and grinned. It must be her standard joke. “Really, you’ve got a face that begs to be photographed. And those legs. And that—”

She must have suddenly realized what their height difference put her on eye level with. She blushed furiously.

Robbie took advantage and pried his arm free. “Thanks but no thanks. I really gotta go.”

“I’ll pay you,” she blurted.

That stopped him. Robbie had his eye on a hot used car, and a life outside of Talbot’s Peak. Every dollar counted toward his future. A couple of bucks for a couple of snapshots. What would that hurt? Mom didn’t have to know. And Moore or Less didn’t need to know about his mom.

“I don’t have to get naked, do I?” he asked.

That seemed to trigger something. He saw alarm flare up in her eyes. “You’re over eighteen, right?” she demanded.

Moment of truth time. He knew his face could still pass for a teenager’s. One word and he could dodge this whole thing. He knew what Mom would want him to say. Thoughts of that car kept the single word locked behind his lips. And damn, but this woman was fine, even for a human. Even with the short legs and neck. She smelled like she ate meat, but that was okay with Robbie. Predators didn’t shake him. Just the opposite.

“I’m twenty,” he said truthfully. “Two years out of high school. I’m taking college courses on line.”

“Moore or Less” visibly relaxed. “I just want a couple of fashion shots for my portfolio,” she said. “No nudity. Maybe shirtless, but that’s as far as I go. I’m staying here at the motel. How about if I come back when you get off work? We can work out the details.”

“I can do you one better. You gonna be in town awhile? My family knows this guy who’s a photographer. He might let you use his studio. Lemme talk to him and I’ll get back to you.”

“Then you’ll do it?”

“For pay, yeah. I wanna buy a car—”

“Say no more.” The woman grinned. “I understand completely. You’ll need this.” She returned her business card to his hand. This time she didn’t press. Her touch had gone professional. Damn. Yeah well. But if he could get her up to Talbot’s Peak, they might still get that coffee at Java Joe’s when the shoot was done. After that, who knows?

“Wait,” he said, before she turned away. “You’re gonna need my name.” He ripped a check off his order pad and scribbled on the back. “I really gotta get back to work. Thanks.” He flashed a smile. “See you around.”

Unless Mom found out. Then she’d trample him. Well, Mom just couldn’t find out. Getting Ed to keep his mouth shut, that was the big problem now. Heck, he had all night to think of something.

# # #

Less watched the waiter gallop away on those mile-long legs. He shouldn’t be that graceful, but he was. His unusual gate was starting to grow on her. And now that she knew he was legal …

No. This wasn’t about a casual hookup. This was about her career. Maybe a career for him too. Forget about those long-lashed eyes and how badly she wanted to test the implied mobility of his lips. She’d be out of here and on her way to LA in two days tops anyway. Less sighed. Better keep it business.

She left the restaurant for the motel lobby, and only then looked at the name and phone number her fresh new model had scribbled on the back of the check. Robbie Dhobai. And he already knew a photographer with a studio. How lucky was that?

Robbie Dhobai. The name nagged at her for some reason. She was back at her room before it hit her. She stopped dead right outside her door and stared at the flimsy piece of paper in her hand, now weighted down with mystery. As a follower of fashion, Less knew her history. She knew the designers, past and present, and the models who became famous for wearing them. She knew the name Nola Dhobai. The woman had come out of some remote village in Africa with legs that stretched to the Equator and a face made to fill a camera lens. Already over six feet while still a teenager, she’d taken the European fashion world by storm. For five years she and her fabulous legs had ruled runways from London to Paris to Hong Kong.

And then she’d disappeared completely. Where or why, nobody knew.

That had been twenty-five years ago, before Less was born. She’d seen videos of Nola’s work on YouTube. Those legs. That patrician face. That slender neck. That oddly-graceful bobbing walk.

Now here was Robbie Dhobai, out in the middle of Nowhere, Montana, with a long-vanished fashion model’s legs and neck and signature runway walk. Who just happened to know a photographer. Twenty years old, was he?

Excitement flared in Less’s gut as she realized she might have stumbled onto more than just a pretty face. Here was a chance to make a career with more than a couple of photos. All she had to do was play it right.

Sunday, September 20, 2015

Real Pterosaur, Or Not?

Flying 'Pterosaur' Filmed Over Idaho Neighborhood

A video recently posted to YouTube purports to show a prehistoric reptile soaring over a neighborhood in Boise, Idaho. Critics have suggested it could be a computer-generated hoax or possibly a radio controlled glider. According to Unexplained Mysteries, sightings of winged creatures are not uncommon in the United States. In 1977 three boys in Illinois were allegedly pursued by two gigantic birds, one of which caught and briefly carried away one of the boys before dropping him.

Saturday, September 19, 2015

Distractions Abound

hi gang. sorry no post this week.  been my month for distractions and
life happenings at the spice homestead. dp and gal pal checked on inlaws
out of state. all is good there. mage helped with some writing
and us time. mages wife also got face time with me. so when dp
business partner arived that took another portion of time and energy.
only a few words written this week on anything.  now if allergies
and the colds dp and i got clear up things will improve greatly.

please enjoy the warmth while it lasts. time change and temp changes
are a few days and weeks away. remember to share a good
book or two with your spice and loves.

until next week


Friday, September 18, 2015

The Rescue?

Ziva panted through the burning pain of her raw scrapes and open wounds as well as the damn near debilitating pain in her back when she moved.  She continued to remind herself that help was on the way and hoped they got here soon.

She’d only had one good howl in her which was worrisome, but the multiple return howls; Nick’s being the loudest, assured her that many were coming to her rescue.

With the cavalry coming, Ziva allowed her wolf body to fade back to human, hoping the change would start healing the worst of her injuries.  Several of the cuts started knitting together and the pain in her back eased enough that she could breathe semi-normally.

“ZIVA,” Nick roared from atop the gorge wall before starting the climb down.

“Nick,” Ziva whispered, wishing she had more oomph to warn him to be careful and less pain to truly enjoy the site of her utterly naked mate scaling the side of the gorge.

“You okay, Auntie Z?” “Hang on, Z-ma.” “Don’t look down alpha man.” “Oh man, Uncle Nick that had to have hurt your toes.”

Ziva resisted laughing, but couldn’t stop the very slight grin that crossed her lips.  Loki and Thor were encouraging as only they could…loudly.

“I don’t think it’s the toes he needs to worry about.  Hey bro, watch out for your twig and berries man.”  Mooney and the boys laughed and Nick growled at them.  Ziva knew their game by now and they were only trying to diffuse some of the fear so obviously riding Nick like a crazy monkey.

“What twig and berries?” a feminine voice added to the jesting.  “Looks like the business has crawled back inside and boarded up the exits.  Poor Ziva.”

Ziva rolled her eyes at the brother/sister interplay and prayed to the Lovely Lupa that Nick didn’t take the bait.  Sadly, the great lady appeared to not be listening as Nick looked up at Reetha and let go of the rock with one hand to flip her off.  Wolves were more like dogs, even in their human suits.  They have power, but very little grace. 

Nick lost his hold and started to tumble.  Ziva sucked in what little breath she had regained and tried to call out to her love.  Unlike where she fell, Nick was lined up with a very sharp stone that jutted out from the hill.  Her mate was going to be impaled and all she could do was watch.

~Innocently whistling~

Have a wonderful weekend, y'all!

Tuesday, September 15, 2015

Thundercloud yanked on his mental leash.

Middle of September howls and yowls, shapeshifter lovers.

Here's a continuation of my recent flash scene, One Shade of Silver Wolf.  Thundercloud figures the best way to meet Kailla is at Talbot Peak's BBQ cookoff and faire.

Also, my author interview is featured today at erotic romance author, Kate Hill's blog. Kate Hill is a wonderful, prolific writer. Check her and her books out at


Thundercloud yanked on his mental leash.

Thundercloud yanked on his mental leash. What was he doing charging at the woman he wanted as his mate?

She was human. Even if she liked wolves, was an animal lover, she couldn't help but be frightened by a larger than average wolf running straight at her. Howls to Thor, even enclosed inside her minivan.

Reluctance knifed to his bones, but Thundercloud forced himself to slow down. He loped at a speed that kept her in sight, and thanked the Great Wolf One the woman appeared to be headed into Talbot's Peak, rather than bypassing the town, owned by shifters and various types of supernaturals.

If her luscious scent hadn't gripped his nose like a welcome vise, Thundercloud would have been salivating over the bounty of smoked-meat odors now wafting from the center of town. He'd planned on enjoying the Peak's BBQ event, and a cold brew at Rattigan's, after his run through the late summer fields and wild forested land.

To that end, Thundercloud had stashed clothing at the Ice Creamery. He and Kalindi, the half-angel half-goddess owner, had become fast friends during the last year. Cosmic-oddly, their friendship began when there'd been a dispute over an organic milk supplier. The farmers group had run short.

He and his six brothers owned and ran The Bohemian Thunder Club, located in Dante's Pleasure Club complex. Their nightclub catered to women, and the men servers wore nothing but a loincloth. Often, the female clientele preferred cream and ice cream-based drink concoctions.

Kalindi refused to backdown, hurling a lightning bolt when his older brother, Thunderbolt, had attempted to hijack the milk truck by persuading the driver with a sizeable bribe. Instinct and adrenalin possessed him, and his brother had returned lightning fire...but only way above Kalindi's head.

The very air crackled then, charged by their lightning-throwing battle. Thundercloud had stepped into the bolt-flying breach. He'd calmed the waters by profusely apologizing to Kalindi, even as Thunderbolt's mate arrived on scene.

Krystal's mere presence instantly sobered Thunderbolt, and his brother deeply, gentlemanly apologized to Kalindi, then offered reparations.

His own adrenaline fierce, Thundercloud followed the woman's scent, and silently howled a whoop when he found her minivan parked at Talbot's Peak Inn. On quiet paws, he trotted toward the check-in office, trailing her fragrance. He caught a few glances, but they were from other shifters.

Not willing to resist, Thundercloud raised to his hind legs, and peered through the side window. Dangerous Curves Ahead did not apply only to a highway. His tongue lolled out, and he panted with lusty appreciation.

He merely had a side view of her, but Howls to Freyja! Even her somewhat loose knit top and stylish pants couldn't hide those blatant womanly curves. And her hair... Thundercloud stared. The copper-red color intensely gleamed, and had him wishing he'd already shifted to human form -- improving his ability to see and enjoy the color.

His future mate had the long length tied back in a ponytail. Yet, even with his wolfen eyes,  Thundercloud could see the exceptional thickness. Caught by the beautiful profile of her face as she slightly turned, he huffed in a large breath, and was hardly surprised when his balls ached, wanting to volcanically erupt.

Before he busted through the window, Thundercloud gained his four paws, but hesitated. What was that? He cocked one ear, listening intently to his future mate as she spoke.

"I was tired. But after seeing that super amazing wolf, and the yummy BBQ smells, I think I'll take a walk, enjoy the booths, and get something to eat. Haven't eaten a decent meal since being on the road."

That was all he needed. With the woman's soft lovely voice singing through him, Thundercloud headed for the back door to Kalindi's Ice Creamery. He could dress his human form, then stalk his to-be mate without stalking her. The BBQ cookoff and faire was a gods' send.

Thundercloud began planning how meet her human to human, then begin wooing the gorgeous woman.


Unable to kick images of the large silvery wolf out of her thoughts, Kailla strolled along with the gathering crowd. The BBQ and smoking-meat smells beckoned her like a bevy of food sirens. Kailla figured she was far hungrier than she realized. But then, her stomach had been the last thing on her mind as she'd traveled to Talbot's Peak.

Determined to start her new life, Kailla plastered a friendly smile on her face. Soon she caught a colorful glimpse of the arts and crafts booths. Wow! This was definitely her kind of town. So far, anyway.

As she passed by, on her way to the least busy BBQ vendor, Kailla scanned the various booths to decide which ones she wanted to check out. She frowned as the fifth booth she passed displayed more wolf-art products. What was with this town? Not like it was named Wolf Lake, Montana, or anything.

Kailla paused in her steps, admiring the beautiful wood carvings of wolves... and, were those werewolves? Then, her eyebrows shot up as she gazed toward the back of the table. Carvings of wolves transforming into human, and vice versa... good gosh! They took their wolf culture here seriously.

"Hey, Thunder-man, how are ya?" The artsy type guy sitting behind the table, that Kailla assumed was one of the carvers, spoke to someone over her shoulder.

Who would be named Thunder...a biker type? Curious as the proverbial cat, still Kailla decided not to turn around and look. She was in no mood to deal with any man, let alone a rough-around-the-edges biker dude.

"I'm doing quite well, Carl." The man's cultured yet deep-as-midnight voice caught her off guard. "I'll be putting in another order soon. We sell a lot of your carvings at the club. The women love them."

"I've gotten in a new supply of Northern Maple and Tupelo...those silver-gray shades you like," Carl enticed.

Silver-gray shades of wood! Icy-hot shivers slid through Kailla, and she trembled from head to toe. Not to mention, her feet were suddenly glued to the sidewalk.



Wishing you love and passion on the wild side ~ 


Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance

Monday, September 14, 2015

With Great Power ...

Louie burst into the Mayor’s office and stalked right up to the desk. His belly, still covered by his chef’s apron, arrived five seconds before the rest of him. “Vern. I got a bone to pick with you.”

The newly-appointed Deputy Mayor swung his feet off the desk. “Boar or bison?”

“Don’t get cute. I wanna know what the hell you think you’re playing at.”

“When it comes to Talbot’s Peak, I don’t ‘play’ at anything.” He gave Louie’s apron a close, suspicious scrutiny. “Um … you’re not armed, are you?”

“Not now. Them wolves you got stationed downstairs confiscated my cleaver.”

“What wolves? You mean my grandsons?”

“Dirty pool, Vern. You know damn well I ain’t gonna hurt no kids.” Louie advanced another menacing step. His belly pressed into the rim of the desk. “Enough with all the BS’in’ around. Knock it off or else.”

Vernon gazed mildly at the furious rat. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“A health inspector, Vern? You sent a friggin’ health inspector? To Rattigan’s? My kitchen’s cleaner’n yours, and you damn well know it.”

“I heard rumors of a bug infestation. Even the cleanest kitchen can—”

“Yeah, but I got backup. You know Cecily? My prep cook?”

“You mean that girl with the enormous—”

“The one with the big schnozzola, yeah. She’s an anteater. She allus sweeps the place after closing. We ain’t had so much as a gnat in months.” He leaned his bulk against the desk. “You ain’t the kind’a wolf what likes to throw his weight around. What’s going on?”

“I told you. I heard rumors. I take the population’s safety seriously.”

\Louie suddenly grinned. Vernon shoved back from the desk to put more distance between them. A grinning rat isn’t something you want to see looming over you.

“This is about the waffles, ain’t it?” Louie said, still grinning. \

“I swear before Lupa, I have no idea—”

“Uh-huh. We put a gourmet dinner waffle on the menu. Word starts gettin’ around. Alla sudden Mr. Deputy Mayor is doling out health inspectors. Trying to shut me down.” Louie’s eyes narrowed. “I smell the missus behind this.”

Vern bristled. “Elly had nothing to do with this. She would never stoop to such underhanded tactics. On the other hand, she is … concerned that your dinner waffle has become so popular. She has her own waffle recipe, of course, and the flapjacks, but still.”

“G’wan. What’s to worry about? We ain’t in competition. Rattigan’s don’t serve breakfast. Hell, even you don’t serve breakfast at the Grease ‘n’ Grill no more. Nobody can go up against Elly’s flapjacks. We don’t even try. She don’t serve dinner, either, so we don’t go head to head. I got one friggin’ breakfast item on the menu, and I serve it after she closes. What’s the big deal?”

“The big deal is that we tried your dinner waffles the other night. By ‘we,’ I mean Elly and her children. They had the spinach parmigiana, I had the cheesesteak. I made the mistake of commenting on how light and perfect the waffles were. Just the right amount of crunch.”

“Oh shit.” Louie backed away from the desk.

“Oh shit indeed. Poor Elly nearly burst into tears right there at the table, and her brood—well, you know Bo and Hannibal, and Mary can be as vicious as a predator in defense of her mother. They never even said a word. Just glowered at me, all the way home. Three guesses who slept on the couch that night.”

“It was your own damn fault.”

“I’ll cop to that. But then I started hearing word on the street about how delicious your waffles are. Even worse, Elly was hearing it. I had to do something. I want to sleep with my wife again. And walk down the street without getting butted by bighorns.”

“And you, being Deputy Mayor and all … ”

“With great power comes great temptation to use it for one’s own ends.”

Louie scrunched up his nose. “I don’t think that’s how the quote goes.”

“That’s how it goes in Talbot’s Peak. I don’t suppose you’d consider … ?”

“I ain’t taken my waffles off the menu. They’re too popular. But maybe … ” Louie sighed heavily. “Look. I like Elly. She knows her way around a kitchen. She wants to come over and talk shop … I ain’t handin’ out my recipes, mind, but I can allus drop a couple hints. What she does with that’s up to her.”

“Thank you. I’m always eager to keep the peace in town. Especially within my own family. Anything else I can do for you?”

“Yeah. You can tell me what the hell you’re doing in here when it’s almost time for the lunch rush … ” Louie’s voice trailed away. He suddenly burst out laughing. “The Grease ‘n’ Grill got shut down, didn’t it?”

“The health inspector decided to check out the Grease ‘n’ Grill and the Bighorn, as long as he was in town. He found the groundhog guts.” Vern made a sour face. “Dog-damned human health inspectors. What happened to Franco? He was the best.”

“He retired. I know what you mean. Nobody sniffs out dirt in a kitchen better’n a jackal. ‘Less it’s a rat.” He clapped Vern on the shoulder. “Tell you what. We’ll go over to the G’n’G and I’ll tell ya what youse is doing wrong. I know what humans look for. Anything needs cleaning, hell, you got two kids downstairs who don’t got nothing better to do than play with a cleaver.”

“Play with … ?” Vernon’s face went white. He shot out of his chair.

Too late. Beyond the windows, one of the trees in front of City Hall began to sway. Loki and Thor yelled in chorus, “Timmmm-berrrrr … ”

Saturday, September 12, 2015

A Different Perspective of Talbot's Peak

"Yes, that was a good idea, " Gill said, leaning back in the chair he occupied.  He propped his feet on the low porch railing.

"Louie's idea of appointing Vernon deputy mayor worked out wonderfully," Chloe added, sitting beside him.

"One of the best." Gill nodded as his spoke.  "Nor meat smells.  No threats.  Just peace and air."

Chloe laughed.  "You mean no foul smells."

"Yes!" Gill replied.  "After a while all those meat smells make me nauseous." 

"How do you stand it at Rattigan's?" Chloe wrapped her shawl around her shoulders.

"Great ventilation system." Gill laid his arm across Chloe's shoulders.  "And Louie cooks each meat separately when possible."

"How do the carnies stand the mixed smells?"  Chloe shuddered as she spoke.

Gill glanced at Chloe, smirked, and hugged her to him.  "Their noses work differently Vernon tells me.  Louie gets some of it.  His rat genes gave him a great sniffer."

"He does some wonderful things with the seasonings he uses."

"Evening folks," Mary called out, sitting astride her horse-shifting husband Dash.

"Evening Mary," Gill responded, waving to Mary as she rode by.

"Kind of Mary and Dash to let us use the cabin for the week." Chloe leaned forward, pointing toward the field in front of them.  "I'm sure the rest of the herbies escaping town appreciate them too."

Tents and campers took up portions of the mountain high pasture.  Several camp fires dotted the area, twinkling like the stars in the twilight evening sky.

Gill inhaled, enjoying the cool air filling his lungs.  Taking his vacation during Talbot's Peak's first barbecue cook off really made sense.  He wondered how Vernon and Louie were doing back in town.

Happy Weekend Gang,

I hope the lead into fall finds you enjoying decent weather and temperatures.  My allergies are kicking over time.  Ah, climate warming changes.   I'll survive.

This is the flash piece I started a couple of weeks ago when Ned and Adam decided they wanted to get their story going.  Ned, Adam, and Lilly will be back soon.  I need to finish another story I working on first so I can let things simmer before revisions begin.  I wonder which one of my blog mates will take the next piece in this flash with Louie and Vernon talking back in town.  I hear Vernon's been appointed temporary fire chief since Station 1 (the only fire station in town) is vacant thanks to the vegetarian firemen vacating the area.

Remember to keep a few good books handy to share with your loves and spice.  I know I am! 

Until Next Week,


Wednesday, September 9, 2015

Jame's Addictions, Chapter 1 Part 1

So I was digging in my WIP files, looking for something to enter into a writing contest, when I stumbled across this jem: Jane's Addictions, a Talbot's Peak story I wrote a couple years ago. So, since I've been as busy as a one-legged man in a butt kicking contest, I thought I'd go ahead and repost it one chunk at a time.

* *******

Chapter 1

Hannibal glanced up when he heard Bambi open the door to the Ranger Station. Then he did a double-take so fast he almost gave himself whiplash. His longtime friend and coworker was no metrosexual by any means, but he was a mule deer and mulies tended to be very neat about their appearance. At 5’10” and 160 lbs, Bambi had the sleek build to pass himself off as a model in his US Forestry Service uniform. Most of the time. At the moment, Bambi was covered in paintball splatters, bird shit, and goat hair. Bo was pretty certain he hadn’t looked like that when he left the station for his regular patrol.

“I take it you ran into something out of the ordinary out there,” Hannibal said, trying his best to school his facial expression into something mature. It didn’t work; he could not keep the corners of his mouth from spasming in and out of a half formed grin. Bambi glared and shook his head as he stepped all the way into the station then off to one side.


Hannibal jumped at the unexpected noise and got up so he could see over the high counter between the office space and the reception area. What he saw dumbfounded him. A black and white goat—not a mountain goat, which would have been an expected sight in these parts, but a common farm goat—being drug into the station by a rope around its neck. It was also covered in paint and bird shit. And considerably less goat hair than one would have expected.

“Bambi, what the hell is this?” Hannibal asked after a moment.

“I’m guessing it’s a fucking scapegoat.”

“A what?”

“A scapegoat. You do know what that is, right?”

“Easy with the sarcasm, Mike,” Hannibal replied, using Bambi’s real name, something no one, not even Bambi’s family, did unless they were trying to placate him.

“Fuck you and fuck those damned wolves and mountain goats, and whoever had the bright fucking idea to sell paintball guns, flash-bang grenades and god-only-knows what else to mountain goats and wolves!” Bambi snapped as he finally got the domestic goat into the office.

“So…” Hannibal hesitated, hating to agitate Bambi worse. Bambi didn’t swear, not even when he was angry. For him to be dropping the F-bomb multiple time, he had to be way beyond angry. But Hannibal was unable to control his raging curiosity. “What’s up with the scapegoat?”

“I saw that stolen Mazda we got an APB on up on Trailridge Road. It was a fucking set-up.” Bambi paused long enough to stuff the balking goat into a holding cell. “I told them to give up, that I’d just come back with reinforcements if the perp didn’t give him or herself up. This apparently was some kind of signal, because the next thing I knew, someone set off a flash-bang grenade, which scared the shit out of a passing flock of geese—”

“Literally, I see,” Hannibal cut in.

“Yes, literally. The bang also startled one of the wolves, who pulled out his paintball gun and started going to town. The next goddamn thing I knew, there was paintballs and bird shit flying everywhere.”

“And the goat?” Hannibal asked.
“I found it in my patrol car afterwards with a newspaper clipping tucked under the windshield wiper with a hand written note on it saying that if I really wanted a scapegoat, I could have this one.”
“So now what?” Hannibal asked, eyeing the goat.
“Now, I’m going to take a shower while you call Louie and find out if he’s the goddamned fool who sold the paintballs and grenades to the fools up on the Trailridge Road.”
“And the goat?” Hannibal asked cautiously.
“I have no idea what to do with the goat, but I figured I might as well bring the damned thing in for questioning…”