Location Location Location

“Hoov, m’man,” Pablo called from the front door of the Rocky Top Motel. “Shift’s almost over. You got plans?”

“Nothing that can’t be put off in favor of something better. What did you have in mind?”

“It’s grand opening week at that new place. Drink specials, food specials, maybe special ladies. Unless you’re still seeing Judy?”

“I’ll call her, see if she can meet me there. We’re talking about the Caverns, right?” Hoover frowned and leaned his forearms on the motel’s front desk counter. “Where the mini golf used to be, before … ”

“Before the mammoth got loose and went on a rampage, yeah. There was this whole underground complex right under the amusement park! Who knew? Well, the people who built it, obviously. Bet it was the government. Black Ops experiments. They probably set it up during the ‘50s. You know, the whole Cold War thing.”

“And now it’s a bar?”

“Nightclub-slash-restaurant. All underground. Guess the government sold out. Might as well, I mean, after the mammoth it wasn’t exactly a secret base any more, was it? So, you wanna go?”

“Sure,” Hoover said. Those previous plans he’d alluded to were actually orders from Dante. Somebody’s taken over Morloxian’s old lab. It looks like they’re making it public. Check it out. Dante was counting on Hoover’s spectacular nose to determine who or what intended to establish a beachhead at the exit. Hoover was counting on his girlfriend having the evening free. He glanced around to make sure no customers were in sight, then pulled out his phone and speed dialed Judy’s number.

# # #

Cordelia Shaw swept up and down the corridors of her new kingdom, deftly avoiding the exits where the waning but still deadly sunlight filtered in. She inspected the restaurant, the club and the bar and deemed them all good to go. Last week’s limited openings had helped her work out the bugs. She was ready to throw the doors open and start emptying wallets—a far more rewarding pastime, she’d found, than emptying veins.

She gazed up at the glowing neon that announced the entrance to The Caverns with an inner glow of her own. Whichever mad scientist had built and then abandoned this place, she’d be forever in his debt, and for her, “forever” carried weight. You didn’t come across a property like this every day, especially underground, beyond the reach of the sun. And at such a reasonable price. Land of opportunity, dahling.

A deliveryman trotted up to her, clipboard in hand. Cordelia skimmed the invoice and signed her name with a flourish. It was not the name she had been born or even died with, but it was a damned sight better than that unwieldy Hungarian tongue-twister her father had foisted on her. She’d switched to the more easily spelled “Cordelia Shaw” as a gift to herself on her 239th birthday. I should have done that ages ago, she thought.

She handed back the clipboard with a dazzling smile. Crimson lips discreetly pressed together, of course. Save the fangs for the patrons of the nightclub, where they’d be mistaken for fake. Right up until just a smidgeon past too late.

There were still those inner labs. All that space going to waste. She’d have to come up with a use for them, once she’d scrubbed all those ghastly stains off the walls. Dinner theater?

Again she marveled at the wonders of serendipity. A vampiress in search of a business to run. A subterranean complex right on the interstate exit. It was as if they’d been meant for each other.

She’d even succeeded in repurposing that tacky “Dracula’s castle” that had survived the destruction of the former mini golf. Though she considered it an offensive cultural stereotype, she’d also recognized its marketing possibilities. Now it served as a club for the Goth crowd, its cheesy gloom put to good use. It gave the kids a place to go, which kept the underagers out of her hair and her name off the police blotters. She could even stop in for a drink, with no one suspecting. Imagine, the silly children paid to let others sip their blood. Was this a great country or what?

Oh, there was that shapeshifter town at the foot of the mountains, but Cordelia wasn’t concerned. Let the little furries have their wildlife sanctuary. She preferred the bustle of humanity. All that blood on the hoof, with fresh batches pouring off the interstate at all hours. Walking down the strip was like hitting a buffet. A nip here, a swallow there, and you could fill up in an hour without even having to hunt. Why, the tour buses alone … Cordelia sighed in contentment.

I should add a casino, she thought. What were Montana’s laws regarding gambling? Perhaps it would be better to resurrect the amusement park instead. There was more than one way to drain a family.

She reached the main entrance, the hole where reportedly a mutant mammoth had burst through the earth. The story had drawn her here, to this fabulous real estate find. It also served as a reminder that, as far as the paranormal went, she wasn’t the only game in this town. The shapeshifters would have their own movers and shakers, their own kings and queens and rogues. Sooner or later, she supposed, she’d have to meet with them, especially if they were wolves. Wolves always had to know where everyone stood.

Well, if they were that curious, they could come to her. Cordelia’s interests lay in business, not politics. The only killings she wanted to make were financial. Live and let unlive had been her motto for centuries. If the shifters wanted to trifle with that …

Cordelia climbed the entrance steps as far as the shadows allowed her. She turned her face unerringly toward Talbot’s Peak and bared her impressive fangs. “Any time you’re ready, dahling,” she murmured.

Dante Takes a Stand

Dante managed to squeeze in a couple of hours’ sleep before the first frantic reports flooded in. There were calls from Deuce and Hoover on his personal phone, and dozens of others on the public “hot line” in the bar. The trouble with being Talbot’s Peak’s unofficial alpha wolf was that people tended to treat him like their personal 911 unit.

This time, that panic might be justified.

He only needed to listen to a handful of calls to get the gist of the peril. Still aching from the wounds he’d sustained in the Philippines, he nevertheless rolled out his motorcycle and roared it down the road toward what sounded like a major disaster.

“Ewan,” he muttered under his breath, “what the hell did you do?”

One look at the hybrid mammoth monster lumbering up Route 15 and Dante shifted blame to where it belonged, onto Dr. Morloxian’s shoulders. He got his bike fairly close to the beast before it tried to stomp him, but that was near enough to see the mutant werewolf perched on its skull and controlling its progress. A second rider saw him and tried to jump. The werewolf caught her in one brawny arm and crushed her struggling body against him.

Dante’s mouth thinned. Hostage. The seriousness of the situation rose another notch.

He swung his bike around and sped back up the road, scanning for the best place to mount a counterattack. The most defensible spot—if a defense could even be devised against something like that mutant pachyderm—was the bridge spanning the unfortunately-named Schitt Creek. “They were an early settler family! It’s a legitimate name!” the town historians had sworn when Mayor Gil questioned them. Like the Mayor, Dante had his doubts on that score. However, he didn’t doubt that if the mammoth made it past the bridge, all of Talbot’s Peak would be up Schitt Creek in more ways than one.

Movement overhead caught his eye. Two winged beings swooped down from on high and landed before him. One was one of the golden eagle twins—Rafe, by his scent. The other caused Dante’s brows to climb. He’d heard of Pegasus shifters, but had never seen one until now.

The winged horse shifted into a slender, lovely young woman with a waist-length mane of red hair. She introduced herself as Syprelli. “I’ve been following the monster since it broke out of the earth down by the interstate,” she said. “It’s definitely headed for the town. The creature directing it has a hostage. A young woman. I tried to get close enough to help her, but … ” She waved her arms. “It’s difficult. My other form has no hands, and this form has no wings.”

“Same for me,” Rafe, now in his human form, added. “Not to mention that trunk is a bugger. I made a dive at the werewolf on its back and Dumbo nearly nailed me. If you’re going to bring it down, it’ll have to be from a distance.”

“I have access to weapons that could stop it,” Dante said, “but I’d rather not use them until we get the girl off its back. Provided we can.” His mouth tightened. “She’s the mate of a friend of mine.”

Syprelli nodded. “I saw them. Two wolves. They’re following the monster in a car.”

“Then Ewan has a plan.” If he didn’t, he would when he got there. Coyotes were more seat-of-the-pants types. As long as it worked, Dante would back it.

The sound of a motor on the road from the Peak side made all three of them turn. A dusty camo-painted pickup truck trundled down the road and rolled to a halt before them. Dante recognized the driver as Abram Turkle. His passenger Dante only knew by his bad reputation: the human hunter, Cochrane.

“Heard you had some trouble brewing,” Turkle said. “We’re here to help.”

Dante glanced at Cochrane and let the “we” slide by. Any port in a storm. “Do you know what we’re up against? Did you bring sufficient weapons?”

Turkle snorted at the obvious. “We’ve got two elephant guns and a grenade launcher,” Cochrane said. “We just need to figure out how to get close enough.”

“If that doesn’t do the trick, I can run home for the cannon,” Turkle said. “The aim ain't accurate, though. We only fire it on the Fourth of July.”

“There’s a hostage on the mammoth’s back.”

Cochrane looked at him. "And there's a mammoth headed for your town. Let's stay focused on the big picture here."

Dante bit back a growl. He truly detested the hunter, but the man seemed honestly willing to help. “We think the mammoth may be a genetically-mutated human. One of yours, in fact. Does the name Atcheson mean anything to you?”

Cochrane’s expression darkened to downright murderous. “It means I get the first shot. Ass-kissing psycho, that’s what he is. I should have punched his clock a long time back. I hope you aren’t planning on taking him alive. From what we heard on the police scanner, that doesn’t sound like an option.”

“First we rescue the hostage. I’ve got a man working on that.” He hoped. Dante turned back and peered down the highway. The beast had not yet become visible from the bridge, but its hate-filled bellows could be heard for miles. “Come on, Ewan,” he murmured. “Whatever you’re going to do, do it fast.”

"Mayor Gil. He's playing Secret Agent Squirrel."

Tuesday howls and yowls, shapeshifter lovers.

Today's flash scene stars Dante, alpha werewolf owner of The Pleasure Club, and his love, Kitty, a cat shapeshifter.
~~~~~~

"Mayor Gil. He's playing Secret Agent Squirrel."

Settling back in his leather chair, Dante rumbled a short laugh. He placed the decades-old phone receiver on its cradle. The Ma Belle original served as his link to Louie, and Louie's circle. Only.

As he lifted his hand from the phone, Kitty entered their private love lair, modeling the new gown he'd recently had designed for her. Pure irresistible woman, she swayed sensually toward him.

"I've never heard that phone ring once." She raised a delicate brow in question.

Immersed in her radiant expression, the one a woman wore when she felt truly admired by a man, Dante hesitated for moments, savoring. 

"Mayor Gil. He's playing Secret Agent Squirrel."

"Is that so?" His Kitty cocked her hip flirtatiously. "Secret agent squirrel... secret agent squirrel," she sang to the tune of "Secret Agent Man".

She gave her long blonde curls a lazy toss. "Somehow 'squirrel' just doesn't work for that tune." After a small laugh, she sauntered closer, her every move a sensual response to the slinky forties gown.

The champagne golden satin clung to her lovely curves, and Dante let his gaze prey on her. "Yeah, kitten mine, secret agent squirrel doesn't cut it."

"I don't think I'll be crooning that version to Mayor Gil," his Kitty exaggerated the roll of her hips, "if he ever decides to show up at the Midnight Stardust Supperclub."

"I've put the invite out. You can lead a squirrel to a hidden cache of peanuts, but you can't make him eat them." Dante opened his thighs, an invitation to his woman.

"That doesn't make sense," she complained in a sultry voice, even as she glided between his legs, and softly touched his shoulders, caressing.  "Squirrels store nuts."

"Mine are aching to be found, kitten love."

She gave him playful yet seductive smile, then rubbed her knee gently against his balls.

His cock did him proud, thickening fast. Dante smoothed his hands up her satin-covered hips as their gazes met, and the magic of their connection embraced him once again.

"You don't usually give anyone phone access. What gives, my big bad sexy werewolf?"

Kitty languidly shimmied, and Dante gripped her haunches hard, possessively, the way she liked it. Hell and howls, the way he liked it.

"Figured it was the easiest way to get the real scoop on Talbot's Peak. You know Louie, his rat's nose is always to the ground." Dante paused, inhaling her luscious sex scent.

"Louie is the rat in the know... when it comes to the Peak." Kitty stroked her fingers through his hair, her touch addicting.

"Gave him that number exclusively... had him 'let the number slip out' to Gil."

"I bet the Mayor enjoyed his squirrel paw up on you?" She leaned over, his woman, and planted a soft, soft kiss on his forehead.

"Yeah, kitten, let the squirrel think he's got hold of your nuts." Dante molded her ass with his hands. "Gil's been good for the town. Don't want to scare him away."

"Love how you think, wolf man," she murmured against his forehead, "only I'm losing my ability to think."

Fisting his hair, Kitty tugged with enough force to bring his mouth beneath hers. She teased his lips with the slow brush of hers. "Maybe we should honor the Mayor at the supperclub's Autumn Equinox Ball... how could he refuse?"

Dante grinned against his woman's mouth. "A pint or two at the pub would be more to the mayor's liking, from what I'm told."

"With all the peanuts he can eat," she breathlessly whispered, then nipped daintily at his mouth until he groaned.

Dante trapped her between his thighs, and passionately swept his hands over every inch of her he could reach. The way the satin slipped over her gorgeous shape -- slid over her perfect breasts -- mating howls, he was hotter than the devil's inferno.

Not relinquishing her grip on his hair, Kitty covered his face with kisses.  "Dante," she purred against his mouth.

Capturing her breasts, Dante fondled as the harsh sound of their pants filled the room. With a touch as fleeting as a butterfly, she tormented his cock, stretching his already too-tight leather pants.

"Hot with stud lust?" she asked just to further his need. The phrase had become an erotic trigger between them.

"Make me hotter, woman," he growled.

She mewed, a desperate little sound that didn't make it past her throat. Dante nuzzled her neck, growling endearments as her limbs went weak.

Knowing the instant his beautiful woman's knees were about to buckle, he hauled her onto his lap. Their lips seized each other, their passion still unspent. 

Dante figured their furious kisses could have steamed up every mirror in the supperclub.

~~~~~~

 
Wishing you shapeshifting love on the wild side… 

Savanna

Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance
~~~~~~

Brewski Brewed for Full Moonlight Ale

Gill wiped down two more bottles and set them next to the case on top of the bar.  Three full cases sat halfway down the bar.  Another fifteen were loaded on the panel truck outback of Rattigan’s.   Ten more cases to go and they’d have enough liquor to get them through the fullest moon nights to hit the Peak in over a year.  This had to happen right on top of Fair opening night.  They’d done what they could to mitigate the circumstances.  

The contents of each bottle held the ale Lex and Louie carefully mixed and aged under Dante’s care.  More like threat of shredded asses if shifters only got potioned.  Dante didn’t like the idea of trickery.   Local shifters would understand the hint due to the ale’s name, Full Moonlight Ale.  Humans would think the name was a play on the other two major brewers using moon in their names.   Anyone who drank the smooth pale amber liquid would get a mild buzz that lasted for a few hours.  Hops mixed with other fermented grains produced a higher alcohol content than regular beer and kept the proof well below harder stuff.  Mystic Falls would have a hard cider lemonade stand next to the Rattigan’s as well as Sandy Valley’s twisted tea booth.   Who knew that the growing shape shifter communities in Mystic Falls and Sandy Valley would vote to join in on the idea of selling alcohol to help control an

 outbreak spooked humans if and when the shifters morphed?

  

Gill glued labels on the bottles close to him.  Rattigan’s Microbrewery distilled small amounts of beers, liquors, and the occasional fermented drink for a small group of local connoisseurs.  They usually provided their own ingredients for the obnoxious smelling concoctions they fermented.   

 Two months ago, Bettina started experimenting with the fermenting process.  Her results yielded a blood red ale and beer combination she named Vampire Surprise.  The fangs that drank it loved the kick and the lingering buzz.  The brew contained enough sanguine ingredients to sate their blood lust.  Louie sold out of the stock almost as fast as Bettina and her business partner, the local blood bank, could distill the drink.  The blood bank mixed human and shifter blood together in the pouches they delivered while still fulfilling their community obligation to the hospital and vet clinic.  

Louie’s voice followed by Dante’s flowed out the open kitchen door.  “Dante, thanks for helping us come up with a solution to what might otherwise be a full moon fiasco.”

“You’re welcome, Louie.  I’ve got pledges from shifters and humans to help with policing attendees and keeping their consumption within reason.”  Dante’s voice carried his businessman tone.  Gill knew Dante respected and loved the Peak as much as any citizen, but Dante pulled no punches about where his ethics stood on keeping everyone safe.  

“I hope,” Louie started as a yell sounded.  A loud rumble followed by the floor shaking.  “Shit, some dumb shifter is tinkering with the fermentation process again!”   Any more of Louie’s response was lost as a loud clanging started as the floor quaked harder.  Gill shook his head and ran around the bar.  

As he reached the kitchen door, Gill found Dante was holding his sides laughing.  Bettina’s six-foot-ten body guard stood in front of Louie looking down at him.  Louie stood toe to toe with the brute shaking his meat clever at him while holding a sharp wooden stake in his other hand.  Nelson kept nodding as Louie cussed, said something in Jersey speak and cussed again.  The chef hat Nelson wore bobbed every time he nodded.  And the white butcher’s apron he wore fit him like a 1950’s housewife apron.  His cameo t-shirt and black jeans served to make the hat and apron standout more.  Yet, he was the chief brewer and fermenter.  Bettina mentioned Nelson’s assorted past and alluded to bootlegging and moonshine recipes.  

Dante wiped his eyes and turned to Gill.  “We got things under control for now.  I might need to talk to Lex about having Marissa set up a pastry stand next to their coffee booth.  Her anti-angst muffins and other soothing magical sweets might be the offset we need.  Not to mention making sure plenty of food is available period.”

Gill grinned.  “Hot, horny shifters, booze, sweets, and lots of other food, right!  I hope the humans attending don’t give us as much trouble.  Good thing we set a curfew on kid attendance.”

Gill moved back into Rattigan’s dining room.  His term as mayor was turning out differently than he expected.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Happy Weekend Gang!

Sorry for the late post.  This flash required some finessing after the scene came to me.  Looks like Talbot's Peak Fair is getting ready to commence.  Join us beginning next Saturday for the Fair.  Our week long posts will bringing you snap shots of the happenings along with

vignettes of the folks attending and running the fair.   We look forward to

you and our Talbot's Peak group enjoying Fair week.

Until then, remember to share a good book of two with your loves and spice!  I know I will!

Smiles, 

Solara