Welcome howls and yowls, to the Love's a Beach Blog Hop. Prepare yourself for freaky and frisky fun, fabulous and feral eye candy. And! an assortment of fantastic prizes from all the blog hop's participating authors. If you're looking for the start of this hop here's the link http://justromance.me.
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Greely spread her towel out on the sugar sand beach and once again wished she was back at the pond. There she had sun peeking through the trees and flittering over the water. Here she had torches burning in the perpetual night sky. The peace and tranquility found here was lovely—to a point. Sometimes though you just needed the warmth of the blazing star in the sky…
“See, it’s kinda nice down here, right? No more missing that silly pond.”
“Karma, can you really tell me you don’t miss the blaze of the sun? You’re a camel from Egypt for crimminy sakes…”
“Hey, I’ve still got sand…”
“Oooh rah, the crack killer.” Greely knew she was being bitchy, but she couldn’t help it, she wanted her life back.
“Snarfy…”
“Sorry Karm, I’m just frustrated.”
In more ways than one.
“Yeah, I can see how having a smoking hot blacksmithing dragon lusting after you could cause frustration…”
“Let’s not forget to add lying, conniving and back-asswardly old-fashioned to that list.”
“But he’s dragon…”
“He gifted me with junk and got me tossed from the local frog hangout.”
“He’s gonna surprise you, Greely. I’ve been tutoring him.”
“Not possible.”
Unless he screws up and gets himself dissected.
“Just you wait…”
Greely could wait forever and Erol still wouldn’t surprise her more than he had over the past few weeks. Besides, she didn’t know if her heart could take anymore shocks. She looked around the beach at her fellow revelers, the pink-haired flamingos playing beach volleyball, the family of turtles digging out from the sand and a massive god-like man coming out of the ocean directly in front of her and making his way up the beach.
“No, please tell me you didn’t set this up, Karma.”
“Set what up? Oh man, could those board short slide down any lower on such perfect hips? I wish I had set something up, but I’m innocent, my dear.”
Greely wasn’t sure she believed her good friend, but the time to call her on it was up as she looked into Erol’s dragon perfect eyes.
“Miss Greely, I have a gift for you.” Attached to what appeared to be a silver necklace dangled the most perfect crystal Greely had ever seen. “It comes from your future hom…aah, it comes from my underwater grotto. However, its brilliance is a pale comparison for your beauty.”
Greely stared at the gem, awed by the clarity and perfectness of the gift and a little bit miffed that Karma was right…he had surprised her. “Thank…” But he was gone, back into the ocean. His spiked purple tail sinking beneath the waves.
May you spy many a dragon at the beach this summer!
Serena
~~~~~~
UNDER THE BOARDWALK
Out on the beach the fine white sands had grown hot as a griddle under the August sun. Beneath the shade of the boardwalk, however, the sand remained damp and cool and comfy, if one ignored the seaweed, broken clam shells and the smell of decaying crab. Micki considered all these things part of the beach’s ambiance. It made this particular spot the perfect rat boudoir.
The finishing touches: her boyfriend Brian’s raspy purr, his sandpapery tongue in her ear and his velvety hands on her sand-speckled breasts. Mice might run from cats but rats didn’t, and now Micki understood why.
“Ooooh, that hits the spot, baby,” Micki moaned as Brian suckled on her nipple. At one point she’d been thinking about wriggling out of her bikini bottom, but then Brian peeled off her top and she lost her focus. Oh well, he was sure to get down there eventually. He liked to hunt for his prey. Micki was more of a let’s-see-what-we-find kind of girl. Her swimsuited groin found the bump in his trunks that promised a fine ride to come.
A seagull screamed. Brian clamped his hand over her mouth before she echoed it. Getting caught only added to the fun, but not if you got caught by a cop.
Footsteps creaked on the boards overhead, paused. Micki and Brian froze. The footsteps resumed, accompanied by the squeak of a stroller’s wheels. False alarm. They looked at each other and giggled.
“I love the beach,” Micki whispered.
“You look so hot, all damp and sandy.”
“You gonna lick me clean?”
Brian made a face. “Lick off sand? Hell no. You’ll have to rinse off first.” He flashed that big ol’ tomcat grin of his at her. “Y’know what’d go great right now? A cherry Sno-Cone. Right between your tits.”
“Fugget it. I ain’t getting up and you ain’t going nowhere. You’re just gonna have to make do.” She cupped her naked, sandy breasts. “Here, kitty kitty.”
Brian pounced on the tasty offering. Micki wrapped her legs around his hips. Then she made the mistake of glancing over his shoulder.
Dammit!
Brian felt her pliant body go rigid and knew it wasn’t his fault. “Wassamattah?”
“Shark. Shit! He’s headed this way.”
Spotting a shark shifter was never a trick once you knew what to look for. They always walked a zigzag course, constantly cruising for prey. Their flat, black eyes never blinked. This one’s eyes had fixed on the movement under the boardwalk. He circled up the beach, drawing ever closer. Seagulls took to the air, scattering out of his way.
A thick pylon momentarily hid him from view. Suddenly his head and its mouth full of teeth thrust under the boardwalk. “Anybody home?”
The big tabby tomcat whirled toward the shark and hissed. It had a squirming wharf rat pinned beneath its paws. The shark regarded this ancient life-and-death struggle with disinterest. “Small fry,” he sniffed, and moved on.
Brian made sure the shark was yards up the beach before he shifted back to his human form. Micki came up behind him. “He gone?”
“Yeah. Shit, that was close!”
“You’re telling me. Wassup with all these frigging sharks? The hell they doing out of the water?”
Brian licked his lips. “Um … the boys and me, we might’a made some deals we shouldn’t ought’a.”
“Oh geez.” Micki clipped him on the side of the head. “Rats ain’t enough for you, you gotta mess with sharks? Wassamattah witcha?”
“Hey, chill. It wasn’t even me, it was Paulo. Always up in Atlantic City. You know how he is.”
“Sharks don’t give a rip. Paulo, his boys, you, they’ll take their bite out’a anybody.” She tugged her swimsuit over her no-longer-hot-to-trot body. “We gotta get out’a here.”
“Off the beach, yeah. My cousin’s place—”
“No. Out’a Jersey.”
He looked at her. “You want to go just ‘cause’a couple’a sharks? I thought you loved the beach.”
“I love breathing too. It ain’t just Paulo and those stupid mooks you run with. The sharks been moving in all over. Even my family’s garbage business. Dad’s been talking about sending me away so I’d be safe.” She snorted over that. Her breed of rat didn’t run from a fight. However, there were other considerations. “I stuck it out ‘cause I didn’t want to leave you.”
“Yeah, well, your dad may have a point. We gotta get you someplace there ain’t no sharks.”
“Yeah.” She adjusted the straps on her bikini top. The sand that had seemed so smooth before now chafed her sensitized skin. “I wish my Uncle Louie was here. He wasn’t scared of nothing. Even the sharks left him be. Hey!” She snapped her fingers. “That’s it! You ever been to Montana?”
“No, but I seen them Marlboro ads. They got cowboys there, don’t they?”
“I guess. I know that’s where Uncle Louie went when he left Jersey. That town he’s in, it’s all shifters.He’s got all sorts’a sweet deals running out there. He invited me out to visit one time. Maybe I should take him up on it. But you gotta come with.”
“But it’s all like mountains though, right? No beaches.”
“No, no beaches.” That would be the hardest part. “But no sharks neither. I can call Uncle Louie and set it up. He won’t mind you. He’s okay with everybody.” She kissed him lightly on the nose. “But you gotta come too, or I ain’t going.”
“Hell, I’m coming. I ain’t never seen mountains.” He caught her up against him, grinning. “It’ll be like a honeymoon.”
“I love you, kittycat.”
“Back atcha.”
Micki kissed him with the roar of the surf and the pound of her heart in her ears. Like Brian, she’d never been farther from the Jersey shore than Philly. But hey, rats could make a go of it anywhere. And if Uncle Louie could set her up with some backup to deal with the sharks … hell, that’s what family was for. Especially rat families.
“I ain’t got enough for air fare,” Brian was saying. “We might have to take the bus.”
“Screw the bus. Dad’ll pay for both of us, once he hears where we’re headed.” She touched her wet bikini bottom fleetingly, wistfully, and wondered if there’d be waves where they were headed. She could live without a beach if Brian were with her. When you’re a rat, all of life’s a beach.
Posted by Pat C.
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Summer Brew
"Hey Lexi, what’s happenin’?”
Lex looked up at Louie the Jersey Rat and scowled. His name was not “Lexi,” or anything else trashy or plebian. He was Lexor Luthor, grandson of the mighty lion god Nefertem. But he also knew that correcting Louie would do no good; these American shifters had no respect for any god that wasn’t hurling lightning bolts at them and even then, they only showed respect for the lightning, not the deity. Lex was only a demi-god, though a very old one, so he tried not to be upset at their lack of reverence. Besides, they showed much more respect for his godly skills than they did for Thor’s lightning bolts.
“So what ‘cha mixing up for this weekend’s luau, O Mighty Cat-god of Brewing?”
Lex signed. Yes, they very much appreciated his skill as a brew master, much more so than they did his skill as a perfumer, anyway. Never mind that he was a perfumer like his grandfather and only brewed beer as a hobby. A profitable hobby, yes, but still only a hobby.
“Something special, Louis. Something that will evoke half-remembered images of steamy summer nights, sand and salty waves.”
“Looks more like you’re makin’ fruit punch,” Louie said, completely ignoring Lex’s use of his formal name.
“Yes,” Lex agreed, giving up. “This is called, quite aptly, Summer Brew. It is a punch made with my finest summer ale, lime juice, a little tequila, and a pinch of something extra.”
“Um, this somethin’ extra…”
“What about it?” Lex asked archly, letting his naturally deep voice resonate ominously.
“It’s just that we don’t want a repeat of the Valentine’s Day fiasco, right? Not in my bar, anyway. If Marissa wants you to do that sort of thing at Java Joe’s, I won’t way a thing. But I run a classy place.”
“Yes, I can see how a faux Irish pub run by a Jersey rat could be more sophisticated than a trendy micro brew coffee house,” Lex said sarcastically, miffed about the mention of that unfortunate incident the year before last. “That was a specially formulated incense that reacted poorly to a cheap love potion some hack magician churned out. This is simply a mild aphrodisiac added to a simple summer punch.”
“So what is it, exactly?” Louie asked. Or rather demanded, a no-nonsense look making it clear he wasn’t going to let Lex serve his summer brew without a list of ingredients.
“Fine, if you must know. A small batch of my summer brew would include 12 oz of thawed frozen limeaid, three bottles of a nice, light beer, half a cup of Jose Cuervo Tropina tequila, and a dash of almond extract.” Lex crossed his toes rather than his fingers lest Louie realize there was something up with the addition of the almond extract. He hadn’t used normal extract like what could be found in a grocery store after all…
******
Thanks for tuning in for the blog hop!
~ Rebecca
Ps, that recipe is a good one for serving on a hot summer night!
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Josh smoothed his towel out over the lifeguard chair. The last days of summer brought out all kinds. Shifters’ Haunt thrived during full moons and warm humid nights. Many wanted to howl, play, and make endless merriment. The folks up the coast from Remoor’s Beach shared their secret brew for keeping things under control, sand castle building contests. Problem was no one realized that the unusual sculptures might go viral via the internet. Regardless how many posted signs he and Anthony hung, someone snuck in hoping to get a peek at the nude fun and frolics.
Josh picked up his binoculars. Down the left hand side of the beach teams of men worked at finishing their sculpture. He scanned the waterfront. Boats sped by with folks gawking back through their binoculars as well. Gay Shifter Pride weekend was in full force. Tory held court back at the grill pit. Sally and her husband wore aprons promoting their various cooking cuisines. No one cared how dressed or undressed anyone was. Several couples stopped and made over the children especially Sally’s granddaughter who ruled the group with her two-year-old smile.
Back down the right hand side of the beach, several males raced toward the surf. None of them looked over baked by the sun. Good because peeling twice, once as you morphed with the coming full moon that night and then in human form post burn, the itching and need for lotion- - -Josh squirmed remembering his own recent sunburn. Anthony’s joke about stocking up on baby lotion and back scratchers had been such a bad idea. Every cabin held the highly sort after supplies.
Josh quickly turned back toward the waterfront. Two men caught his attention. He wondered if their tug of war would reveal a prize worth waiting for.
A female voice whispered in his ear. “Eye candy again?” Josh didn’t need to turn his head to know he’d been caught. Tory’s soft laugh warmed his ear. Lowering the binoculars, he turned capturing her lips with his. Her tongue pressed against his lips as one hand raked through his hair. Several breathless moments passed before another voice called out.
“I’d tell you two to get a room. But then I’d have to come along to chaperone.” Anthony’s Cheshire cat grin greeted Josh as he opened his eyes.
“Rather than chaperone, why not join us,” Tory called out making her way back down the short ladder on the side of the lifeguard station.
“I’d love to except Josh is on duty for a while longer. Let’s plan on a full moon rendezvous for later. The three of us and . . . “
Josh didn’t hear the rest as cheers went up from the groups closest to them as the sand castle winners were announced.
posted by Solara Gordon
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Love's a Beach at Talbot's Peak
Derringer paused after flipping the hamburger, not quite believing his own nose. His nostrils twitched. Not from the mouth-watering odor of the cooking meat, but from another heavenly scent likely carried on the wayward breezes of early afternoon.
"Smell that?" Derringer elbowed his cousin, and longtime pardner.
He watched Desperado still as if he hunted prey, then sniff the prevailing wind.
"Sure do, cuz." Desperado let loose with a wolf whistle that caused almost everyone at the Talbot's Peak beach party to jerk their gazes toward him for several moments.
"No need to advertise," Derringer stage-whispered close to his cousin's ear. "We aren't the only single males here."
"Yeah, but our noses are keener." Desperado set the empty platter he'd been using to serve with on the counter area of the huge stone grill. In the same motion, he untied his chef's apron.
"Besides," his cousin continued, "her fragrance is still faint, typical of her kind." With a careless twist of his wrist, Desperado tossed the apron on top of the extra large cooler. "She won't be detected by anyone here, except Uncle Wolf Dawg and Dante."
Even with the woman's luscious scent tickling his balls, Derringer remembered to glance down at the sizzling burgers. Yeah, why alert the other males without a female?
He shot a glance over his shoulder where the beach-towel crowd lazed on the hot sand, flirting and sunning themselves. "Uncle Dawg won't smell her. He has his big ole paws all over Silkari. Can't blame him. Howl about "How to Stuff a Wild Bikini".
"Damn straight, cuz, pun intended. Uncle Dawg finally found a female with the right set of claws." Desperado scooped up his muscle shirt, pulling it on double-speed.
Derringer grinned and expertly tossed the burgers onto the platter. "Yeah, Silkari's got the claws, alright."
Just to check, Derringer scoped out the dance crowd, bopping to early sixties tunes. "Looks like Dante won't be a problem either. He's distracted -- mooning his gaze at Kitty just the same as Frankie hound-eyed Annette Funicello in "Beach Blanket Bingo". Remember?"
"You and those beach party movies, cuz. It ain't natural. I keep tellin' ya you're a high prairie wolf, born and bred." Desperado shoved his feet into his cowboy work boots.
"She's close." Derringer flicked his eyes in the woman shifter's direction. "Her scent is burnin' and fueling the hot rod."
"Yeah, burnin' and churnin' my balls," Desperado growled.
After a quick look that said everything, Desperado jogged over the thin layer of sand toward the craggy outcrop of rock that formed a horseshoe around the isolated mountain lake. The summer's high temps had inspired Dante's latest project, The Peak's landlocked beach.
****
On a walkabout for the last month, Kiarra trekked toward the musical sounds of water, a lake by the deep and lyrical tones. Now, she heard faint strains of what she thought was called beach party rock 'n roll in the upperworld.
How weird out here in the Montana wilderness. Cocking her ear, Kiarra focused on listening to the song. She'd traveled this path wanting to learn about the shapeshifter town of Talbot's Peak. However, whatever was happening close by intrigued her.
So much so, she almost missed the crashing-through-brush charge of a bear who by the smell of him thought she'd make a tasty addition to his diet. Kiarra whirled rapidly, and on sheer instinct stepped behind the largest tree.
She pressed her backside against the trunk hoping she wouldn't be forced to morph and shred the juvenile-age beast. She despised having to kill, and only used her animal strength to defend herself, and others.
The problem...once she loosed the lioness warrior there would be no stopping her until all danger passed. No, Kiarra mentally cried out, as her hands shapeshifted into paws with deadly slashing claws.
Grrrrrrrrrrr! The explosive growl shivered through Kiarra as if she was composed of harp strings. Gathering her composure fast, she peeked around the trunk in time to see the young bear race in the opposite direction.
Eyes like shards of smoky glass fastened on her. An enormous golden-colored wolf with a ruff almost like a lion padded slowly toward her.
Kiarra didn't think. She ran, her superspeed kicking in instantly.
Her human body returned fully as she sprinted, and with her sensory perception engaged, she easily avoided low branches, brambles and several logs strewn across the trail.
What she didn't count on was suddenly finding herself atop a substantial rock shelf, and seeing what she saw. Her eyes popped open, and her breathing quickened.
Shapeshifters, both carnivores and herbivores, plus other upperworld supernaturals, that she identified by their unique scents and their auras, were enjoying themselves as if they partied at a real beach -- just like the California scenes of recent history she'd studied to learn about cultural customs.
Kiarra blinked several times, and tried to think as she automatically adjusted her backpack. She blinked again as a man, a breed of wolf shifter she didn't recognize, strode toward her, his demeanor non-threatening yet totally alpha.
Catching herself gaping at his near-naked physique, his flowing dark golden hair, Kiarra swallowed, and took a step back. It wasn't as though she could afford to become involved with an upperworld male.
"My cousin, Derringer. He's gonna be real happy to meet you."
Kiarra spun around, staring into the smoky glittering eyes she remembered from mere minutes ago.
"Desperado is the handle, ma'am," he continued in a sexy smooth twang.
"You're the wolf..." she began. Her breath deserted her as she realized he carried his garments, and was completely naked... except for...
Kiarra shot her gaze downward, and managing to avoid his cock, she saw what were called cowboy boots.
"What's your name, pretty lady?"
She whipped around, facing the one named Derringer. With her insides already melty-hot over his husky drawl, she drew in a long breath at how stunning his masculine features were. "Kiarra. I... I need to leave."
"We know," Desperado sensually poured into her ear. "Lioness woman from the hidden realm of Atlantis."
"Why don't you let me and my cousin show you a real good time, Miss Kiarra." Derringer offered his arm.
"I'm... supposed to be on a spiritual journey."
Why those words even passed her lips, Kiarra couldn't imagine. She shouldn't be baring her soul in this manner. Her only answer... their superior male alchemy must be loosening her tongue.
"Know what an Old West Saloon is, Miss Kiarra?" Desperado claimed her other arm, even as she tentatively took hold of his cousin's forearm.
Wondering at her feminine weakness -- her willingness to walk between them, she answered, "I believe so. Wild west brawls, drinking whisky, and playing the card game called poker."
"Yep, all that, pretty lady." Derringer brought her closer against his side. "And more. Me and Desperado are what you call gainfully employed."
"Not quite true, cuz," Desperado interrupted. "We're part owners of the Red Silk Garter, our Uncle's old west saloon."
"We can take care of you in style, Kiarra."
Derringer slowed his steps, and lifting her arm, he grazed his lips on the top of her hand. Desperado followed suit, and Kiarra's eyes crossed with the sizzly sweet pleasure coursing through her.
Her steps even faltered. Both men halted, supporting her, and a swoony sensation swept over her. Certainly nothing she'd ever felt before.
Uh-oh... was this what her grandmother had counseled her about? Was this spiritual mating?
"Take care of me in style?" she murmured, her thoughts flying to the four winds.
****
Desperado pivoted before the woman who had captured him lock, stock, and barrel. She was all shapely curves, and svelte as a lioness.
Her tawny skin made him mentally lick his chops. He wanted to passionately devour her, cause her every pleasure -- every erotic pleasure.
He could see it before his mind's eye. When he and Derringer unbound her redgold hair, it would look like a beautiful mane, and her lovely lioness-like features would be perfectly framed.
Desperado gently stroked his knuckles up the silky skin of her throat, then held her chin with his fingertips. "Anything you want, anything you desire," he promised.
"We can protect you, Kiarra." Derringer moved behind her, and tenderly placed his hands on her shoulders. "We know your kind has many formidable enemies."
"How would you protect me?" Her voice was soft surrender, yet she challenged them.
"We were professional bodyguards," Desperado answered, diving his gaze into the bright aqua sea that were her eyes. "We protected Bhothramsa when she was the upperworld ambassador."
A cry of surprise burst from between her gorgeous plump lips.
"Enough for now." Derringer swung around to her side, and lassoed her waist with his arm. "Let's have some fun on the beach before the sun goes down."
"Yeah, you two go on ahead. I gotta get decent first. Put on swim trunks." With care, Desperado removed her backpack, then grinned like a crazy man at his Atlantis lioness woman. "Don't you worry, my Kiarra, I'll put this in a safe place."
She gave a little nod, and that was all Desperado needed. For now, anyway. His heart flip-flopped and soared.
~~~~~~
Wishing you shapeshifting love on the wild side…
Savanna
Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance ~
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