Our Space Chariot Awaits

Tuesday howls and yowls, shapeshifter lovers.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I don't understand."

"You know you've always adored shapeshifters."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Easily solved, Khaidan."

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

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

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

~~~~~~


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

Savanna 

Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance

White Fang and Pasha Battle Ninjas

Tuesday howls and yowls, shapeshifter lovers.

Apologies for another late posting. Just too much to get done these days.

However, here's another flash scene -- or another roughly written chapter of White Fang, Ace Wolf Reporter -- starring my super wolf, White Fang, and his cat goddess heroine, Pasha.

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White Fang and Pasha Battle Ninjas

White Fang hovered in midair, waiting, listening. The deep black of a moonless night was his ally in the coming battle. Yet, it would also serve their black-garbed foes.
Surrounded by the huge leafy limbs of century-old trees, White Fang spared moments to explain their righteous revenge, and asked for whatever assistance the sentinel-watching trees chose to give. At this point, he only used his super hearing, not wanting to give away he and Pasha's precise location.
If he radar-searched with his powers, the ninja horde would be able to pinpoint his position, instead of swarming inside the trap he and Pasha had devised. For the same reason, they had severed their telepathic bond.
Was that the rushing sound of the wind, or the nearly silent flight of the ninjas? White Fang stilled his vibration further but maintained his altitude. Tricky but doable.
An instant later, a tiny bubble of golden light appeared before his gaze. "They come." Pasha's encapsulated voice told him, then vanished in the ethers.
In the split second that followed, White Fang smelled the ninja's acrid magick. Faint to his wolf nose, yet there was no mistaking the black sorcery won only by being in league with the most foul demons.
With that recognition, White Fang realized the fight would be fiercer. It also explained why the two ninjas had so evilly slaughtered Pasha's human friend. And now defied Zhere Ghan's order to submit to the justice Pasha decreed for them as a goddess in the earthly realm.
Despite his criminal enterprise, the Tiger Yakuza leader was no fool when it came to the supernatural and ultimate justice. Zhere Ghan's two ninjas had stepped beyond his bounds when murdering an innocent, then deceived him with the smoke of their sorcery.
For that betrayal, the tiger shifter had delivered a warning to White Fang via his youngest son. At least twenty of their cohorts had deserted his Yakuza ranks, aligning themselves with the demonically controlled ninjas.
The night winds swirled into a new pattern, alerting White Fang. Simultaneously, he felt Pasha's request of the wind spirits to assist them.
White Fang focused his senses fast. The slight rush of sound, the black-soul stench, told him how close the ninja horde was to them. Mere moments away, given their flight speed.
Within, White Fang loosed his full power, no longer concerned with hiding his location. Energy blasted through him, his very veins volatile with it. Like a descending shroud, a heavy smoky fog filled the enormous forest glade. Eerie quiet followed as if every sound in the world had been switched off. 
Fiery sparks of gold streamed toward him, Pasha's magick at work. Illumination burst forth and as the ninjas streaked inside the clearing, their forms slightly glowed. Wraith like, they hung in the air momentarily stunned by their immediate exposure.
White Fang aimed his gaze, shooting the nearest three ninjas with eye beams. The blue fire decimated the energy signatures of his enemies. They squirmed like flailing serpents, and fell.
Before him, sheets of ethereal ice glimmered in waves as Pasha battled with her power. Several ninjas froze in mid-action, their dense-smoke bodies spiralling downward.
Surrounded, attacked from every angle by the soaring ninjas, White Fang spun creating a vortex that diminished his enemy's force. At the same time, he fought, countering  their death blows with his hands and feet. With the flashing strikes of his arms, knees... every part of his body. Including head butts.
No doubt the skill level of his heartless opponents exceeded top notch. 'Course, rumor held it that Zhere Ghan practiced his supernaturally inspired martial arts with the best he could hire.
Amid the humming sinister din of the battle, White Fang heard Pasha free her giant cat. She didn't shapeshift. Not yet. No, Pasha released the shadow beast who lived inside her.
White Fang had seen the fearsome goddess creature once. Rearing up, the unique looking lioness-cat placed monstrous sized paws on his shoulders. Two heads above his height and his width, the cinnamon colored beast then licked White Fang's face. The sweetness poured itself inside him.
A force unto itself, the cat savagely screamed as it leaped to attack the enemy. White Fang smelled the lightning bombardment Pasha deflected with her cast magick, and realized from the constant sizzle, she significantly weakened the ninjas her cat beast now devoured, one by one.
In his mind's eye -- as White Fang cycloned faster and continued fighting -- he saw Pasha move in her lioness beast's wake. Obviously, she'd reestablished their telepathic connection.
Dropping to the ground -- letting several of the ninjas collide against themselves -- White Fang mind-watched Pasha  form water balls that resembled crystal marbles. With ruthless speed, she threw the etheric poison.
The water soaked through the ninja's defenses, given they'd been expecting her renowned flame force instead. As the remaining ninjas swiftly adapted, darting forward to destroy her, Pasha conjured wind knives. She hurled with complete accuracy, the blades burying themself in their solar plexus chakra.
Quick as a cosmic blink, time froze around them. The vibrations altered sharply, and White Fang felt the six deadly ninjas still remaining, change to full corporeal form. They'd realized their smoke and sorcery had failed.
In the same instant, a leviathan portal spun into existence, sucking away the subtle energies needed to create magick. Then, the portal acted like an enormous vacuum, and White Fang's vital force was pulled from him -- as if he was Super Man exposed to kryptonite.
His wolf howled a warrior's roar, and broke free.  
As he sighted his first target, White Fang heard the racing steps of more ninjas over the rock floor of the clearing. From the corner of his wolf vision, he witnessed Pasha summon her cat beast.
Within seconds, his lover morphed to lioness cat. Her blood-curdling scream of rage echoed off the nearby mountain walls, and she sprang.
White Fang growled, the thunder of it vibrating his lungs. He charged.

~~~~~~


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

Savanna 

Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance

Dhavriz braced his legs, and called forth his lightblade...

June midyear howls and yowls, shapeshifter lovers.

Today's flash scene continues the sci fi story I began a few weeks ago, titled:  Space Opera Comes to Talbot's Peak 

This scene stars the hero, Dhavriz, also called The Hunter. If you like the warrior type, this just might be flash for you. ~grins~
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Dhavriz braced his legs, and called forth his lightblade...

Dhavriz braced his legs, and called forth his lightblade, a huge broadsword he favored. Holding the pale fiery blade in a salute, he intoned, "Ready for battle. Activate."

The holo-program hummed for a split second. A horde of rhino-humanoid troopers charged, their beady, orange-neon eyes savage with the desire to hack and stab him into bits of unrecognizable flesh. Dhavriz stepped into a sprint. With his blade high, he slashed the weapon back and forth, fighting his way to the center.

Limbs and heads with giant horns flew around him.  The yellowish blood of his enemies sprayed as they struck at him with medieval-type weaponry energized by advanced laser tech.

When only a few remained circling him, Dhavriz roared with primitive zeal. He raised his blade over his head inviting the enemy to attack his bare chest. As they darted forward growling like thunder, he spun and sliced through their hide-shielded necks.

In the next moment, he heard the challenging trumpet of a battle mammoth. The sound pierced to his heart, seeking to weaken him with fear.  Dhavriz ignored his human reaction, ignored the blasts flashing around him from the spear-like weapon of the rider.

Blade at his side, Dhavriz raced over the rocky, low-brush terrain on bare feet as the battleship-gray beast charged toward him. The ground shook like an earthquake from its footfalls. Mighty curled tusks capped with jagged spear points dully gleamed beneath the lemon-colored sun.

With precision, Dhavriz avoided the constant fire-flashes as the rider sought to stun him into submission. As he ran, a warrior's roar poured up from his loins, then erupted from between his clenched teeth.

Keeping his legs swiftly pumping, Dhavriz pointed the broadsword as the shaggy mammoth lowered its massive head, ready to toss him about like a favorite toy. Life or holo-death, Dhavriz reminded himself.

While he never enjoyed harming animals, it remained imperative to keep his skills in a state of perfection. given his enemies often used such fearsome, trained beasts against him, and his crew.

Dhavriz stopped in his steps, flexed his knees and sprang. He stabbed his lightblade in the mammoth's exposed eye. Using his momentum, he whirled in midair as fire from the rider's weapon glanced off his shoulder blades and naked back.

Pain seared through his veins and Dhavriz transformed the energy into more strength. With a few key swipes of his blade, he destroyed the rider's weapon and unseated him.

Bellowing with rage, the mammoth swung his head slamming his tusks into Dhavriz. Letting the force take him, Dhavriz landed on his feet, then slammed the edge of his flaming broadsword into the beast's back leg cutting through tendons.

The mammoth leaped on three legs, twisting toward Dhavriz. The beast's trunk tried to coil around him like a monstrous snake. With flying blade and the brute strength of his arms, Dhavriz countered each attack.

The writhing, flash-quick movements of the mammoth's enormous trunk proved to be a worthy challenge once again.  Sweat glistened his body while his muscles bulged with power.

On the lookout for his opportunity, Dhavriz skewered the beast's trunk. He seized hold with one arm as the mammoth screamed and flung his trunk upward. Readying his lightblade, Dhavriz plunged the length through the tiny spot of unprotected flesh at the base of the beast's ear.

The mammoth's death throes began, and Dhavriz quickened the process by continuing to press the point of the broadsword into the beast's brain.  In moments,  the leviathan-sized creature crashed to the ground.

Overhead, as Dhavriz gained his feet, the droning buzz of the machine swarm alerted him. He never knew precisely which enemy the holo-program would throw at him. Often though, his psi sense warned him. This time, the program won.

Diving to the ground, Dhavriz grabbed hold of the dead mammoth's hind leg, and crawled beneath fast. The stinging insectoid swarm was nearly upon him. Their toxin would disable his muscles so they could feed on his flesh and carry his blood DNA to their mad-scientist masters.

The threat from these drone gatherers was a constant on the various galactic worlds. In the nick of time, Dhavriz shoved beneath the leg's heavy weight enough to cover himself. The furious, mosquito-like attack hit with the tiny machines chewing on the mammoth instead.

Soon a few of them would drill through, and attempt to paralyze him. Dhavriz played the waiting game, and once the dive-bombing ceased and the drones fed on the mammoth's flesh, he pushed his fist upward lifting the beast's leg.
 
Dhavriz rolled out from under and leaped to his feet. Swinging his lightblade like a battle hammer, he struck the swarm repeatedly. The blows burned out their cell-sized energy system.

But would he destroy enough of the miniature machines? Already, a few escaped. The evil buzz told Dhavriz they formed an attack wedge, only waiting for more of the swarm.

Knowing it was now or never, Dhavriz faced the drone wedge, his blade held like a shield. At superspeed the robot insects aimed for his heart. Front or back it wouldn't matter, except in the seconds it took to stop the beat of his heart.

Crap stars, Dhavriz mentally cursed as her image entered his mind. Commander Sarza of the Khy Woden, the incredible woman was the reason he'd decided to holo-train earlier than usual.  He couldn't afford to lose focus as Captain, as a warrior for his people. 

Almost a nano-beat too late, Dhavriz powered up his broadsword. Rays of light shot out vaporizing the drone wedge within inches of his heart.

Damn, he had it bad for the woman.

Lowering his lightblade slowly, Dhavriz knelt down on one knee. He let his exhaustion take over, ordering, "Deactivate."

As the landscape dissolved around him, Dhavriz wondered how many times he would have to retreat to his private holo room. He seriously doubted ice cold showers, or swims in raging ice rivers, would dampen his desire for Sarza. Hell-blaster, not when she was within reach, and traveling with him.

Of course, she'd made it more than abundantly clear it wouldn't serve either of them to become involved as lovers. Dhavriz threw back his head and bitterly laughed at himself, at the outrageous twist of fate.

The one woman who fired all his cruiser jets... let alone the euphemistic torpedo between his thighs... and she had all but rejected him.
~~~~~~


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

Savanna

Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance ~

The Demon Dog Angel Amongst Us

Pic ~ Mark Lindsay of Paul Revere and the Raiders. He's a look alike of today's hero, Dhraki.

End of May howls and yowls, shapeshifter lovers.

If you're intrigued by the realm of angels and demons, this flash scene might be for you.
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The Demon Dog Angel Amongst Us

The Good Lord knew -- as well as Satan, of course -- being a half breed angel and demon dog shifter had its share of gigundis and wacky challenges. Long ago...during the turn of the century...when the world spun like a maddened dervish teetering between great enlightenment or the darkness of war and oppression...Dhraki had gone renegade.

Disgusted down to his demon-angel bones, he'd refused service to the Light Force and the Dark Side. Why waste his eternal life, such as it was...even with the constant, high-strange harshness of it all...on this backwater, prison planet?

Okay-yips...because Dhraki despised lying, including lying to himself, he corrected his own thoughts. Yeah-barks of truth, since the 'age of the garden' when Eve had been cruelly seduced into producing an heir to the dark throne, Earth had been quarantined by the Light Council...the once paradise planet lost.

Yet not lost...even with he unending war in the heavens...the brutal battle between light and dark where nothing was ever resolved...would never be...not until the final hour on the cosmic time clock. And, holy of unholies, that hour could not be foretold.

Unwelcome in his home realms, Dhraki searched for a place to belong. Because, despite his interventions on behalf of those in need, the human world didn't want to know about his existence -- given their religions were not his friend, to put it walking-through-hellfire lightly.

Now, like a tourist, Dhraki strolled the streets of Talbot's Peak, currently filled with the lunch crowd. The small growing town had gained quite the reputation on the underworld-net as a haven for not only shapeshifters but supernatural types like him. Yip-snort, not quite like him -- from the bowels of hell and the glorious on high.

With keen interest, Dhraki scanned the various businesses and shops, and surreptitiously studied those he passed by. His angel side sucked in the kaleidoscopic-colored vibes put off by everyone around him, seen and unseen...while his demon dog side dined on their distinct smells.

Pausing in his stride, Dhraki watched a were-squirrel in human form scamper -- travel bags in hand -- down the steps of the mayor's mansion. After tossing the bags in the back of the car, he hopped inside the passenger seat, as if life itself was about to grab his tail, then devour him whole.

Must be Mayor Gil, Dhraki thought, then shoved his hands deep inside the pockets of khakis. Although, there'd been no info about his animal form on the underworld-net. "Intriguing," Dhraki muttered. "He must have an 'in' with the predators, and the werewolves in charge." 

"New in town?" a feminine voice asked behind him, one that resonated to Dhraki's core.

He knew before spinning around that the woman sensed his angelic side. The sacred fire flowed within her veins as well. And her tantalizing pink-rose scent bloomed around him, pure yet infinitely wise.

Once Dhraki faced her, surprise at her appearance caught him off guard, and he felt his brows raise to the brim of his rakish, down-under hat. That is, until he realized she'd intentionally disguised herself as a middle-aged woman -- non-threatening in the extreme.

Dhraki stuck his hand out in the friendly fashion of humans. "My name is Dhraki. I just got into town and was taking in the sights. You are?"

"You're not here to cause any trouble, are you?" She one-eyed him, and Dhraki witnessed the avenging angel. His demon-dog side almost withered on the spot. 

Almost...he gathered his force, and grinned. "Trouble is my middle name at times," he bantered, hoping that would stop her flame like penetration of him. "No," Dhraki quickly added. "I'm a benign sort. Unless attacked."

She visibly relaxed, obviously hearing the truth of his words. "I'm known as Kimilia here. Kim for short."

The softest hand he'd ever felt met his. And when her grip matched his, sparks leaped up Dhraki's arm. But he didn't release her hand. The demon dog howled with fiery rapture.

"A pleasure to meet you, Kimilia. How long have you been in Talbot's Peak?"

She smiled, merely a small lift of her lips. Yet her features brightened, her beauty exposed for a fraction of time. Dhraki's breath blasted back inside him at the sight.

"I arrived about a year ago," she answered, her riveting silver-lavender eyes still assessing him. "My niece owns the ice cream shop... just two blocks down. We have quite the good business these days." 

Reluctance ripped his inner hide, but Dhraki released her hand. "Too early in the day for ice cream?" he asked, simply to keep her talking with him.

"I was on my way. If you're careful with that demon hellfire of yours, and promise not to melt the ice cream, I'll make you a volcano fudge sundae."

Her singsong voice, her melodic vibe twined around Dhraki and owned him down to his flaming core.

"You know," he murmured, then gave her an audacious doggy wink. "I haven't had a better offer in ages."

In a blink, Kimilia's face transformed to a somberness Dhraki had rarely observed in his long life. "What's wrong?" The question poured out of him.

"Full disclosure," she whispered only for his ears. Kimilia paused, her gaze flashing yet beautifully ephemeral. "I am in need of protection. When I first sensed your frequencies, I thought you might be one of 'his' dark angels on my trail. Or a hellhound who sniffed me out. With the shape of things to come...on Earth, I..."

As gently as he knew how, Dhraki took hold of his angel's arm. He gentlemanly wrapped it around his. "How about that volcano fudge sundae? Then we'll talk. I can be quite the ferocious guard dog."

"You've gone renegade, haven't you?" she softly asked, as they walked side by side.

"Thank God for the renegades," he teased in a low growl.

"Thank God for avenging angels," she returned, her tone solemn, much too solemn.

~~~~~~


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

Savanna 

Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance

Take me to your loins...

Art by Susan Sedon Boulet 
 
Late afternoon howls and yowls, shapeshifter lovers.

A couple of weeks ago my hero, White Fang, a super wolf, and his heroine, Pasha, an Egyptian cat goddess, provided a nice surprise, the beginnings of a love scene. Link: "Mating dance or battle of the sexes?"
This week, Pasha gifted me with her side of their impassioned encounter.
Their story is yet to be fully written, and is titled, WHITE FANG, ACE WOLF REPORTER.
The following is unedited... but I hope you enjoy.

~~~~~~

Take me to your loins...

The inferno force of the universe spun through Pasha as she feverishly kissed White Fang, and gently caressed his back with her human claws. She'd known once their hungry passion for each other was loosed, it would burn her. No, firestorm through her soul as if she rose in the ashes of the phoenix -- a ritual she performed every seven years.
Her cat yowled savoring the extreme pleasure as White Fang straightened and drank in the sight of her. The vibrations of his gaze pummeled the swells of her breasts, delicious raw sensations that swirled over clit and wickedly teased her toes.
When White Fang stroked down her arms, then manacled her wrists, Pasha shivered inside. Predictably, her cat purred with fierce delight at his masculine power.
Let him be the victor in this first round of passion between them.
His wolfish kisses fell like a rainstorm on the parched need of her skin, swelling her breasts. Her nipples pushed against the confines of her gown, an ache of bliss all its own.
White Fang's savage need dizzied Pasha, and his canine growl at being denied the taste of her breasts by the gown between them, sent a wild rush of heat that only a woman could feel. For, the man-wolf desired her beyond else.
"Beast," she softly taunted. "What are you going to do to me now?"
His grip tightened on her wrists, a claiming Pasha felt like sparks of flame in her  belly, deep inside her pussy mound. "Your wolf beast," he growled, his lips on her skin, his hot pants tingling the sensitive flesh between her breasts.
"My wolf beast," she sultry-mewed, aware her cat heat saturated the air.
White Fang groaned a sharp growl, then nipped along the upper swell of her breast with his lips. He used his teeth to passionately pull her gown from one shoulder. Then, with the beastly finesse, he jerked the gown off her other shoulder, uncovering her trembling breasts.
His mouth caught hers hard, his kiss utter demand, his wolf lust ravishing her in a manner that shook Pasha to her cat woman core, and even made the goddess wanton.
Desperate for more, Pasha strained against White Fang's hold on her wrists. Raising to her tiptoes, she sensually thrust her sex against the carved bold tower that was his cock.
At the thought of White Fang lunging inside her pussy, taking her, Pasha shuddered, her softer flesh shivering against his super-powered physique. Goddess yes! Every round curve of her adored the pyramid-hard planes and angles of him.
In sacred truth, White Fang was not superior in male form than some of her past lovers. Yet, his complete handsomeness of face and body -- the driving, relentless strength of his muscles now pressed against her -- excited Pasha beyond measure of the starry cosmos.
That alone surprised her, a rarity at this time in her centuries long life. Pasha reveled in the emotion. She basked in the way his mouth covered hers, obviously wanting more of her nipping sultry kisses.
With one hand, White Fang gently yet firmly trapped her wrists behind her back. Bold as a pharaoh, he shoved her closer, forcing her breasts against the muscular shield that was his chest. 
Pasha yielded, mindlessly desiring White Fang's commanding way with her. His deep thorough kiss devoured her lips, even as his other hand squeezed, then caressed her ass.
Bast alive! Pasha would never admit it now, but she already felt like his lust slave.
A warning she ignored light-burst inside her mind. He was to be her love captive, help her defeat the black-hearted ninjas who had murdered her friend. Yet, it was she who succumbed.
"Pasha," he stud-panted against her mouth. His tongue traced her lips, and Pasha flamed with how much he carnally enjoyed the taste and shape of her.
Parting her lips, she sucked his tongue into the hollow of her mouth. After holding his large tongue hostage for moments, and savoring his man wolf taste, Pasha languidly sucked. Once she gained the upper paw, she rhythmically undulated his tongue.
White Fang clenched her ass possessively, yet didn't resist the erotic rule of her mouth. Instead, he groaned and fused their lips more tightly.
As his cock jutted with more strength against her belly, Pasha sprang upward. Despite the restriction of her gown, she wrapped her legs around his super-strong thighs. Immediately, he roughly stroked her ass, his hand swiftly sliding over the satin fabric.
Their lips tangled and battled for supremacy then. Pasha pyre-blazed inside, her desire fully unleashed as the carnal plundering of her mouth nearly overwhelmed her senses.
"No," she tore her lips from his, an unusual fear slicing up her middle like an enemy's claw.
"Yes," White Fang pursued. His hand stilled and cupped her ass, and he planted a tender kiss on her forehead.
"The depth of my desire--" Pasha panted losing her words, even as her breasts heaved ridiculously fast. "I wasn't prepared. I--"
White Fang touched kisses on her face as if he owned the infiniteness of time. With her sweltering pussy tight against the base of his thick cock, Pasha surrendered. She slightly rocked against him. "Super Wolf," she praised.
His lips trailed along her jaw, a lovely sensual torment. "My beautiful cat woman." White Fang velvety poured his words inside her ear. "You are the temptress I've dreamed about...dreamed about but could never envision as being this desirable, this irresistible..."
His soft desperate groan burned Pasha alive, as if he held her essence within the sacred flame of a temple ceremony. "Words fail," he whispered against her throbbing pulse. 
He pressed his mouth against her pulse point. The long kiss on her neck sang beautifully through Pasha. Ferocious with need, she whispered, "Yes...yes, own me. Take me to your loins."
White Fang's hand deserted her ass, slid over her bared back, then seized the length of her hair. He tugged with lust's frenzy, his lips seeking the taste of her breasts.
Pasha moaned and arched her back, offering him her aching, begging nipples.

~~~~~~


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

Savanna

Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance ~

Space Opera Comes to Talbot's Peak

Middle of May howls and yowls, shapeshifter lovers.

Okay, I was Muse-struck by this sci fi story idea last week. And as usual it began playing in my head like a movie.  So I thought I'd turn it into today's flash scene. 

~~~~~~

Space Opera Comes to Talbot's Peak

"Jettison escape craft."

Commander Sarza listened to her final order reverberate through the empty battle cruiser.  On screen she watched ten pods emerge from the belly of her ship, then scatter like a flock of hunted birds -- before they cloaked, becoming invisible to the Gray Galactic's surveillance platform.

The monstrous pyramid lasered frequencies nonstop in this sector of the galaxy, the information instantly available to their war fleet.  However, Commander Sarza owned a decent amount of hope that her devoted crew would be rescued or find their way to rebel-held planetoids.

After star-all, they'd decimated the enemy in this sector. Until now that is. With this defeat not one weapon functioned, all of them drained to uselessness.

"Why are you still onboard?" she demanded, hearing Nherone's quiet familiar tread.

"Why would I leave you?" he countered, stepping before her, his night-purple eyes glistening with concern.

Sarza rapidly roamed her gaze over his face. Bronze-red, glistening skin stretched over sharp features, and his prominent elf-like ears swivelled toward her. "The others need you. Leave now," she harshly ordered, knowing it was likely the last time she'd see her paramour, her second in command.

Nherone didn't argue. Instead, he deferred to her wisdom. After kissing her with his gaze, he spun around and raced for his small fighter jet.

Sarza slumped forward, and for a spec of time, she simply sat in her command chair, her senses dulled. The screeching alarm for the ship's auto-destruct had long since run its course.

With a mental snap, she straightened fast and refocused as she'd trained herself to do over the long years of battling the Gray Overlords.  So what if she faced particle obliteration, her precious cruiser blown to its eternal rest.

She remained in command to the end.

Yeah, feck the fat brain androids and their evil, withered hearts. With two minutes ticking down, Sarza threw her gaze at the holo-screen. The Gray's death ring of battle craft advanced at warp speed now.

They knew, and planned to shoot scalar rays in an attempt to halt the Intrepid's destruction. On an impulse she didn't understand but respected, Sarza leapt up rushing to the silicon container that held Herman, the new AI she and her crew had liberated from an outpost lab – before he'd been programmed by the Gray Overlords.

As he proved his loyalty, Herman had been allowed more responsibility in running some of the cruiser's systems. With this final battle, he'd kept them alive and fighting far longer than would have been possible pre his AI assistance. 

The decision had been made to leave Herman behind. Given his unique AI capabilities, they couldn't afford for the Gray's AI master-hive to assimilate him.

At her touch, the container whirred open. "Sleep," Sarza ordered. She scooped the shimmery alabaster egg out, and since Herman was larger than her palm, she pressed him against her chest. "We can go boom together," she whispered.

"No!" burst past Sarza's lips in the following moment as she heard the racing paws of her pet drogon, a small dog-dragon breed.  He sprang, and Sarza caught him against her side, their usual athletic game together.

"What are doing here?" she scolded, hysteria welling up at the thought of his death. "You were supposed to be with the rest of the animals. Safe."

From beneath her arm, Drexi gazed at her, answering with what she called his sweet face.  "Damn the fascists freakazoids," Sarza muttered, fast-walking toward her command chair.

She sat, placing Drexi on her lap. After cradling Herman in the crook of her arm, Sarza stroked her pet's silky slick coat. "You were supposed to be safe. I've had a long space run. Longer than I ever dreamed possible ... I knew the end would come like this ... some day."

Drexi licked her hand in his loving way. One tiny sob broke free, and sadness overwhelmed Sarza.  As the last warning buzz began, her life flashed before her mind's eye.

Tears dripped from the corner of her eyes slightly blurring her vision as Sarza glanced at the holo-screen. Stunned, she stared, watching an unknown sleek warship streak toward her, ahead of the Gray's death ring.

White flames of light surrounded Sarza, and unconsciousness claimed her.

***

Shaky on her feet, Sarza forced her eyes open. About twenty paces away, a tall, broad-shouldered man in a nondescript, skintight uniform stood with his back to her. Hair the color of an Earth puma fell in a thick curtain to his shoulders, and he appeared to be studying something on a com pad, even though he was behind what appeared to be a personal workstation.

Where in the galactic hell was she? This was no Gray prison-interrogation ship. Unless they'd constructed a holo program to deceive her.

Going on the offensive, Sarza demanded in universal vernacular, "Where is my pet?"

The man turned to face her, his manner unhurried. Piercing eyes that reminded her of a clear turquoise sea regarded her, but gave nothing away.

"Where is he?" Sarza took a step forward, discovering she wasn't exactly steady on her booted feet. Dammit it to the next galaxy, and beyond.

"The animal is being tended in the health ward." The man's voice sounded like a low boom, even though he spoke calmly. "I am told he is recovering well."

"What do you mean recovering well?"

"The beam I used to extract you from your exploding cruiser was designed only for your physical signature, Commander Sarza of the Khy Woden."

At his words, Sarza glanced down just to make certain she was still fully attired, given some beams stripped away any garment. Except for her array of weaponry, yeah, so far no problem.

"However," the man continued, his voice even more baritone, "I strengthened the intra-fractional–"

"Got it," Sarza interrupted. "So where is my AI? And how do you know who I am?"

In that instant, her brain kicked in and Sarza's eyes widened involuntarily. "The Hunter," she puffed out, even as all breath fled her body.

Why bother with any pretense? Clearly in her depleted state, there was no way to best him, not now, not mind to mind.

The Hunter grimaced more than smiled. "You can believe me or not, beautiful woman, I have always been allied with your rebel cause."

"Not the story I hear," she fired back, her hand grabbing for the plasma sidearm she didn't have. "I lost two station comrads, two of the best–"

"Two traitors," he interrupted, his expression grim. "Or, I should say, they'd been targeted by the Sirens, and were about to turn to the dark side. I got to them first."

"The Sirens," Sarza murmured. "We've lost several to those machine seductresses. Lost cruisers too, because of it." Narrowing her eyes, Sarza studied The Hunter, who did his wanted holo-poster one better, as far as good looks.

"AI?" he inquired, hiking his dark brows.

What the starhole hell? The Hunter seemed genuine. Yet... this could all be an elaborate deception. Still, her psi-warning system wasn't blaring at her.

"Herman," she stated. "Looks like an egg."

Without answering, The Hunter lowered his gaze, and touched open a compartment on his workstation.  "Herman?" he asked, holding out her AI, who fit neatly inside his palm.

Sarza found her tongue, saying, "That's him."

She tried another step forward, but whooziness stopped her. Resisting the urge to clap her hand to her forehead, Sarza stood still, willing herself to keep her gaze locked on him.

"It will pass," The Hunter assured. He moved around the workstation with the latent power of a big cat species. "The temporary affect of the specialized beam," he explained.

In what appeared to be a gesture of good faith, he handed Herman to her.  Sarza clutched the AI close, and felt the slight throb of recognition. Even so, she kept her gaze targeted on The Hunter.

"Is the AI why you survived long enough for me to arrive?" he asked. His gaze hard as diamond-infused steel sought to see through her every atom. Yet, she noticed, the warmth of humaness flared within.

"One reason," she conceded. "Where are we headed? The Grays have to know you betrayed them."

Half a smile lightened his boldly formed features. "They figured that out several star months ago. I had the element of surprise on my side when my crew broke through the death ring.  However," The Hunter pivoted from her striding toward what Sarza recognized as a food station, "I have contingency plans. We're headed toward Earth."

"Earth! ... why? Every space bad ass and his scavenger mother is there."

"Not in Talbot's Peak. At least, not at the Pleasure Club. It's an underground fortress, and there's an ancient tunnel system that will conceal my ship."

Mentally rocked back on her heels, Sarza uttered, "I hope so ... Pleasure Club?"

~~~~~~


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

Savanna

Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance ~

"Mating dance or battle of the sexes?"

Late afternoon howls and yowls, shapeshifter lovers.

So, this morning my hero, White Fang, a super wolf, and his heroine, Pasha, an Egyptian cat goddess, provided a nice surprise, the beginnings of this love scene. Their story is partly written, and titled, WHITE FANG, ACE WOLF REPORTER... yeah, maybe someday, time will be on my side.
 
Hope you enjoy...

~~~~~~

"Mating dance or battle of the sexes?"

"Pasha." Her name erupted from his lips like the ancient volcano, Vesuvius.
White Fang threaded his fingers through her lush silky hair, and seized the back of her head yet didn't haul Pasha close. The greenfire jewels that were eyes held him in thrall, still brilliant in the dim seductive lighting of his room at the Pleasure Club.
"Beautiful," he softly growled. "How many times have you heard that word?" White Fang taunted a bit, to throw her off balance, to keep her sensual claws from completely hooking him.
White Fang had no desire to be her love-imprisoned slave, as she was capable of magickally forcing upon him. Lykouz, he wanted their passions to be on equal footing -- panting wolf to purring cat.
He wanted them to be lovers.
"Often enough, super wolf," she taunted in return, her voice whispery, and a sexy enticement he barely resisted.
He could have hauled her close, taken Pasha's inviting lips. Instead, White Fang waited, his hunter nature knowing she needed to come into his arms, if he was to gain control over their lovemaking.
"Standoff," he growly murmured, then let his mouth form the smallest grin.
Pasha moved not a muscle, yet her face flared with a supernatural aliveness that transfixed him. "Mating dance or battle of the sexes?" she breathy asked.
White Fang watched her eyelids fall to half-mast, even as her lips curved to match his. "Both," he gutturally barked. "I want both."
As Pasha tilted her chin observing him through her bedroom eyes, volcanic steam poured through White Fang. The ache of need gripped his loins hard, and his cock jerked with a strength that should have torn through his pants.
Adding to is torment, the caress of Pasha's long waving mane teased his fingers, while the flame and golden radiance created a subtle halo around her head.
"Are you so certain you want both?"
Her slow sultry voice razored deliciously over White Fang's skin, and caused his wolf to howl -- a desperate frenzy of howling. His wolf wanted this cat woman with a mating fierceness White Fang had never felt. Even for the woman who was once to be his mate, but who had chosen another days before they were to be royally married.
In this moment, that deep, longtime wound healed over as if miraculously cured. And he hadn't even tasted Pasha's mouth with kisses, with nips, with the sweep of his tongue. That was about to change.
"Yes, Pasha," he answered,
She flinched, and White Fang psi-sensed his powerful affect on her sexual nature.
"Your passion is a cosmic force to be reckoned with," she offered like a gift, a gift from a goddess.
Soon to be his goddess, White Fang decided.
Her gaze flashed with the lightning strength of her ancient Egyptian heritage. No surprise to White Fang. It was a signal Pasha knew the direction of his thoughts.
"Super Wolf," she beckoned and commanded, her tone pure temptress.
Wolfishly smiling within, White Fang enjoyed Pasha's natural haughtiness. To pleasure-torture himself more, he inhaled her rich cinnamon-spice scent, her feline heat for him.
And he waited.
His sentinel standing cock protested blazing need through him. His wolf panted, ready to mount, to possess the cat goddess.
One subtle movement of her mostly bared, beautiful shoulder let White Fang know the instant before Pasha closed the small distance between them. Her hand glided over his shoulder, blasting desire through his veins.
The softness of her belly pressed against his cock, and after an undulation that unleashed his libido, she offered her lips. 
White Fang bent his head seizing her mouth with his. He savored the full shape, the satin texture as his lips roamed hungrily. Pasha matched him taste for wicked taste, kiss for claiming kiss. 
Beyond bearing now, White Fang crushed Pasha against him, one hand still cupping her head, his other arm wound tightly around her. With her hourglass, seductress curves finally his, finally flattened against him, White Fang tightened his hold further. He reveled in the feel of his cat woman, roving his hand over the exposed skin of her back.
The gown she wore became a hindrance and White Fang released the short zipper, feverishly stroking her back while kissing her senseless. Or Pasha kissed him mindless. White Fang wasn't certain which, and didn't damn well care. A magnificent and savage passion owned him.
Pasha moaning-purred against his mouth, then nipped his bottom lip. White Fang tasted the salty tang of blood droplets even as Pasha sensually licked the tiny wound.
Wild with lust, he dropped his head nibbling the sensitive flesh beneath her ear until Pasha surrendered against him. With her fingers like claws, she rapidly swept her hands over his entire back. Her nails lightly caressed, offering no pain.
Pleasure's sweetness spun inside White Fang, and caught him off guard. For a moment. He rumbled an appreciative growl into the shell of her ear, then placed ravenous kisses down her lovely neck.
Then, returning the favor, White Fang lightly bit the tender flesh where Pasha's neck joined her shoulder. His mark, yes, but without breaking her skin.
"White Fang," she called out breathlessly. In the throes of passion, Pasha slipped her arms around his neck, and clung.  
Knowing instinctively this was the time to make his move, White Fang released her. He passionately gripped her shoulders, then stroked over her arms forcing them downward. Once they were against her sides, he captured her wrists.
A seductress beyond compare, his Pasha threw her head back as he straightened. With his gaze, White Fang ravished the bare expanse of creamy golden skin, the gorgeous cleavage above her gown. 
After drinking in the sight as if water had never passed his lips, White Fang dipped his head. He pressed open-mouthed kisses, following the valley between her breasts. Stopped by the gown's clinging fabric, he growled low, and felt the sound thunder through him.
"Beast," Pasha sexually taunted. "What are you going to do to me now?"
~~~~~~


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

Savanna

Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance ~

Bear and Lonely

End of April howls and yowls, shapeshifter lovers.

The year is speeding by like a runaway train. Who can keep up?

Anyhoo, riding on Serena, Solara and Pat's flash-scene coattails, and Mayor Gil's rise to Elvis-impersonating stardom, here's how our favorite were-squirrel's impromptu performance affects one lonely bear shifter.
~~~~~~

Bear and Lonely

The moment his eyes popped open from a deep slumber that began with a pattering rainshower, Drolun barked a roar. In his Grizzly Bear form, he rolled off the makeshift waterbed, gained his paws, then shook the sleep from his body. In a satisfying manner his thick fur moved in great waves from his neck to his short tail.

With another shake of his massive head, Drolun snorted a small roar, then lumbered toward the pail he kept just outside the comfy dry cave. After a long, thirst-quenching drink, he noticed the plastic baggy with a thumbdrive inside, and a note in Ralph's distinctive scrawl.

Motivated by his buddy, movie critic for the G & B Gazette, Drolun shifted fast. Cool drafts of morning air slapped against his bare human skin. He retrieved the baggy quick, and retreated inside the cave's natural warmth.

Still sluggish, Drolun set the coffee on to brew... thank the Bear Goddess, Ursula, he'd been able to set up one helluva of a solar system. He'd camouflaged the panels hiding the extensive system from prying eyes, but not from the sun's rays. 

After donning jeans and a logger's plaid shirt, Drolun poured the thick joe in his overlarge mug, took a bracing gulp, and headed for his laptop. Several years ago, he and Ralph had connected on a movie set where Drolun had managed to be both bear trainer and trained bear.

Thumbdrive and Ralph's note in hand, Drolun moved into an area he kept extra dry. He plugged in, and slipped in the device.  On good days he could intercept wi-fi or satellite broadcasts. But that didn't matter now.

Again, his eyes popped wide and his mouth stretched into a wide grin as he watched Mayor Gil -- obviously drunk as a skunk, although he was a were-squirrel -- gyrate with abandon while singing the Elvis Presley tune, "Heartbreak Hotel".

"Damn good," Drolun growly muttered. Once upon a time, for a short while, he'd worked Vegas as a Tom Jones impersonator... the undies thrown at him from appreciate ladies had been a definite bonus, especially with his heightened olfactory senses.

But Vegas hadn't been to his liking, and a few mob run-ins had Drolun departing the neon-ostentatious city like a double-barrel shotgun rode his ass. Hell-grrrrs, he could have turned Grizzly and clawed the bastards into ground meat, then sold it to the mob-run restaurants. That wouldn't have solved the real problem though. Because corruption and crime ruled.

Watching the Taltube vid again, Drolun grunted a laugh. "Squirrel shifter and Elvis Impersonator. That'd sell Louie's joint bigtime."

On memory lane, Drolun recalled the enticing female smells when he'd performed, sweat rolling down his hip-gyrating body. Scat, now all he inhaled was coffee vapors. No mate to share his off-the-grid cave. "Yeah, you'll be so lonely you could die," he repeated.

Drolun felt his heart drop, then heard the lonely organ thump on the cave floor... okay, actually hit the thick wool rug he'd found in an abandoned house. Still, the pain felt like a swallowed fish hook.... the one he'd accidently swallowed as a cub when feasting on salmon.

He grimaced at the excruciating remembrance. Only quick action by his uncle, who'd learned the basics of surgery had saved him. That, and his uncle's shamanic healing potions.

With the caffeine kicking in, Drolun figured he'd decipher Ralph's scrawl. After a shake of his uncombed mop, and a swipe at his unshaven jaw, he set the mug down and picked up the note.

"Bud Grizz, this here King of Rock performance by our own esteemable mayor is burnin' like a fever virus through the Peak. How about doin' your celeb impersonations for that there Pleasure Club or a club in town? You could pay for trout dinners like a civilized mug, get some female company, instead of catchin' fish in that ice-cube stream. Got me? 'N you know I'd give you a good mention in the G&B. ~Da Bear, Ralph"

Visions of his Tom Jones' costumes, packed away in several trunks, flashed through Drolun's head. Something inside him immediately asked 'why not?' Although, he knew little about the Pleasure Club or Talbot's Peak for that matter. Of late -- the past year, in fact -- he'd been focused on survival, on building a livable environment for both man and beast.

Growls-maybe, it was time to do a sniff-about in the Peak, enjoy the liquid refreshments at Louie's, then make a foray to Dante's biker bar. Oh scat yeah, he could handle his fists with the best of them.

Inspiration struck, and Drolun seized his mug like a mike whipping out of his office chair. He spun around once, then swaggered to the center of his cave home imitating he way Tom Jones strode onto stage.

"It's not unusual to be loved by anyone," he belted out. Pausing, Drolun announced. "Still got the voice. Let's see if I still got the lung power."

Imagining throngs of panting women, Drolun sang...

"It's not unusual to have fun with anyone
but when I see you hanging about with anyone
It's not unusual to see me cry, oh I wanna' die..."

~~~~~~


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

Savanna

Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance ~

The Rising Sun's Invitation

Sun in Taurus howls and yowls, shapeshifter lovers. And Happy Earth Day!

With that in mind, I hope you enjoy today's flash scene.

~~~~~~

The Rising Sun's Invitation

"The rising sun's invitation," Selauni murmured to herself. Bathing in the bright sunbeams she luxuriously stretched, then moved through the arch-like opening at the base of her tree trunk home. Somehow, the enormous oak had survived among the pine and fir.

Drawn to what was now called Talbot's Peak territory in supernatural circles, Selauni had discovered the old wise tree on a walkabout, and asked permission to live within. So far, the arrangement was one of harmony and friendship.

She gave the big oak a loving pat, then hopped onto an emerging patch of green, the first leaves of wild violets. Her bare feet thanked Selauni. With joy singing through her, she jumped onto the next small clump of emerald green, made more brilliant by the morning sun.

Smiling, Selauni made a fun game out of jumping from patch to patch of new green life with the minimal use of her wings -- already fluttering to catch rays of sunlight. Although, her fun wasn't merely a game.

Selauni learned the sacred matrix of each plant, their frequencies musical notes inside her as she hopscotched through open areas of the forest. Later she would prepare her healing elixirs for the fae community, and whoever needed them.  

A family of squirrels interrupted their search for breakfast to scamper around her, then playfully dash and dart in front of Selauni as she leaped, then hovered above wild iris blooms. Tinkling laughter at their antics, Selauni sent them her vibes of happiness.

When the fragrance of rushing water captured her senses, Selauni hopped in a direction she hadn't explored yet. The breezes carrying the scent of snow-melt and spring growth gently flapped the filmy dress she wore. A gift from her spider friends, the frock shimmered like pearls held in firelight.

Wanting to find out about the stream -- if it was pure enough for bathing and for her elixirs -- Selauni silently picked her way over the slick rocky surface that overlooked the water. Already tiny bits of moss had appeared, and spikes of green broke through the thin layer of soil.

Another smell caught Selauni's nostrils even as she halted and raised her gaze. A naked man bathed in the deep wide stream. Startled, with her heart thumping swiftly,  she slipped behind an outcropping of rock, and almost stepped on a scurrying lizard.

Peeking above the rock, Selauni could barely believe her eyes. Whoever he was, the large man was magnificently formed. At least what she could see of him. His back was to her, and the dark-hued, sparkling water covered most of his ass.

Unable to move, Selauni watched sculpted muscles flex beneath tan golden skin. The man leisurely washed his torso, and when he raised his arms, Selauni panted with unexpected and unbound desire.

Could a woman fall in love with a man's arms? Lust, she quickly amended. Nothing but lust, a rare condition for her. Yet, his arms were so bold, so beautifully shaped and muscled ... "Dangerously irresistible," she breathed out.

As if the swirling breeze carried her words to his ear, the man twisted at the waist casting his gaze in her direction. He couldn't be merely human if he'd heard her, or even sensed her presence. Protected by the natural cloaking energy of her kind, she could only reveal herself by will.

Latent power in every line of his body, the man slowly spun toward her. Selauni ducked down, the image of his broad gorgeous chest filling her mind's eye. She mentally groaned with need. 

Even as her breathing quickened, a sudden warning sliced through Selauni. Yet the man's low melodic song had begun. Oh-frick-no!

With her wings already beating furiously, Selauni whipped around to flee. Too late, the song's ancient tones trapped her. Invisible tendrils held her tight. Before darkness fully claimed her, Selauni dropped to her knees.

How strange, she thought, there'd been no hint in the man's physique about his true heritage as a Gradjinn, an offshoot race of Djinn. Frick-frack!

Snapping back to consciousness, Selauni stared into commanding eyes ignited by green fire. Brawny arms enfolded her, while the stream's cold waters swirled around her dangling legs.

"Who knew when I awoke today that luck would so favor me?" The man wove his baritone voice around her, increasing his magickal hold.

Selauni fought to merely think instead of being swept away by his supernatural force.  And good frick! The lustful sensations swamping her. Even her eyelids had lowered to half-mast. "Luck," she mumbled through lips that felt like plumped up pillows.

"I am in need of a pleasure consort." His unblinking gaze roamed over her face, and approval lit his eyes, making them appear like emeralds blasted by sunlight.

Selauni did her own staring at the strong carved planes of his face. Only the slightly odd shape of his eyes gave away his Gradjinn heritage.

"If I am to be of service to Dante, my long lost cousin," he continued. His thumbs glided over her skin, caresses that inflamed her passions. "I need a woman who is able to match my power and my carnal desires."

Selauni felt herself frown but wondered if her brow had actually wrinkled.

"As you must know I am only part Gradjinn, beautiful fae. Most of my ancestry is human and werewolf."

If his words were true, then Selauni knew exactly how to escape his magick. But did she want to?

~~~~~~

Btw, romance readers, this offer is at ALLROMANCEEBOOKS... 

~~~~~~


Wishing you full moon shapeshifting on the wild side…

Savanna

Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance ~

Blood Moon Rout

Pic from ~mysticinvestigations.com~

Blood Moon howls and yowls, shapeshifter lovers.

In honor of this rare celestial event, here's a flash scene about what happens if you dare intrude on Talbot's Peak territory with the intention to harm.

~~~~~~

Blood Moon Rout

About to quaff the blood moon ale Dante had brewed for the night's howl and prowl through the forest in celebration of the first of four Blood Moons, Stone paused, the enormous stein held partway to his mouth. He'd sensed more than scented a rush toward the door by two horse shifter types, as had the three other musketeers in his wolf pack

One for all, and all for one, Stone and his pack glued their gazes on the biker bar's  well secured door, where two werewolf bouncer types stood guard.  "Open the door, mates," Dugger, the dingo shifter broke the sudden silence, "Before Catcher and Diamond bloody bust through. No use making Dante pay for--"

Too late... almost too late, either Catcher or Diamond shoulder-slammed the heavy wooden door as one of the bouncers whipped it open. A golden-coated stallion slid to a fast stop on the rough-hewn floor, followed by his sable colored buddy. The night's blackness framed them while empty chairs and tables flew to the side -- having already been deserted.

"What has your long tails in a knot, fellas?" Dugger tossed cool as ice amid the blowing snorts and anxious pawing of the two shifter studs.

"BLM troops," a woman breathlessly shrilled from the doorway. The petite woman dressed in horse-endurance racing gear moved inward quick, grabbing hold of the sable stallion's mane.

"Serenity, what is it?" Dugger's better half, Symone approached, one hand on the long, strange super rifle slung across her shoulder. Stone had never seen the enhanced-human warrioress without it. 'Course, his musketeer pack had only been part Dante's patrol crew for the last six months.

"They're building a staging whatever you call it," Serenity burst out. "Weapons. SWAT vehicles. They're, they're massing on Talbot's Peak territory." She sucked in a breath. "Looks like they have the Turkles ranch in their cowardly sights," she spat contemptuously. "We've got to do something. Now!" she shouted, her righteous passion obvious -- her breaths heaving in and out.

"Scat, we're in." Stone leaped to his feet, his pack following. As they shed their leathers, and began their shifts, he growled, "Time for a Blood Moon rout of the enemy."

"Yeah, mate." Dugger's guttural tone suggested he morphed to dingo.

"Let's get it on," Symone yelled.

Stone swore the woman's blood blazed as fever-high wild as his -- as his pack's. Through wolfen eyes he watched the tall warrioress seize a handful of the golden stallion's mane and jump astride. Serenity had already mounted her sable stallion lover, who now backed through the open door rapidly.

Dugger's excited yip-yip-yip as he charged with Stone and his pack -- following Catcher and Diamond -- fired Stone's bloodlust through his veins even bigger and badder.

Hunger stronger than while on the hunt for dinner, raged inside, owning every last wolf hair of Stone. Brute. Beast. Monster. Oh howls-scat, yeah, he was all of that. And more.

As if they chased the wind, the two stallions raced along a well-used forest trail that led to a long stretch of prairie. From what Stone mentally picked up from the woman, Serenity, the paramilitary encampment lay atop a great rise of ground yet in a hollow -- somewhat shielded from view.

Not his view. Not his nose. As they broke out of the dark forest onto the moon brightened prairie, the stench of human sweat smacked Stone in the nostrils. Oh hell yeah, the blood game was on. These were seasoned killers, mercenaries of the worst sort.

Stone salivated to crunch their bones, spurt their blood. Eliminate them from beautiful Mother Earth.

He knew little about the Turkle ranch, only that a Turkey shifter family owned it, and they were right handy with rifles. Damn smart when living among predator shapeshifters, and surviving. Why the Turkles were targeted by the bureaucratic agency, if they were, mystified Stone. That is, unless their land held a value prized by those addicted to big money.

Catcher and Diamond's hoofbeats resounded like low rolling thunder as they galloped over the Spring-awakened land. The blasting heat of bloodlust rolled off Stone and his pack... off Dugger and every wolf, coyote, big cat, and half-breed shapeshifter who ran with them on mostly silent paws.

"Lasers!" Symone shouted the warning over her shoulder. "Spread out," she ordered. "Evade and attack." 

Scat sure enough, pencil-thin beams crisscrossed above them. Given he was in the lead, one laser weapon locked on Stone, between his eyes. He knew by the matrix-energy around him several of the others were also targeted.

Breaking his stride, Stone launched upward and to the side as shots rang out. Grinning, a super thrill sliding along his spine, he dug in sprinting past Catcher and Diamond. Amid whizzing bullets, his always-courageous pack ran loosely beside him, their scent as hot and savage for the taste of mercenary blood as his.

Howls hell no, you creepazoid bastards -- not one of their shifter pack had been picked off, or injured. Stone would have sensed or heard the thud of a bullet penetrating flesh.

He credited Dante, given the alpha in charge held regular training sessions for this type of combat. Still grinning, Stone felt his energy spike to monster status. He saw through a red sheen now, and his muscles exploded with power.

Stone figured they were less than a mile out, and they raced uphill -- faster than the average demon wolf. Oh scat yeah, faster. Oh, and by the way, enemies, our razor-sharp fangs rip through Kevlar like good raw steak.

A frenzied chaos of movement by the paramilitary troops, and shouted orders, entered Stone's ears, but he hardly heard the words. What he knew, he and his musketeer pack led the charge inside the encampment.

Shots dully pinged into Mother Earth's skin, missing Stone and his pack. Taser-like advanced weaponry buzzed like a den of pissed off rattlesnakes. Bolts of electricity hit Stone.

He grinned wider. That's right, ape scat, give me the juice. Time for a Blood Moon rout.

Stone sprang, snapped his jaws around an aimed assault rifle, and crunched mangling the weapon. He flung it aside. Before his enemy could stumble backward, Stone sank his fangs into his exposed throat.

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Wishing you full moon shapeshifting on the wild side…

Savanna

Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance ~

Chapter Two ~ Z’Pasha of Dendera

Springtime howls and yowls, shapeshifter lovers.

A ROAR OF THANKS! To everyone who participated in the FOOL FOR LOVE bloghop.

Okay then, the writerly well has run temporarily dry. And I've got too much on my plate right now. Thus and so, here's a flashback scene written during the early days of our shapeshifter-supernatural town of Talbot's Peak. The scene, starring my Egyptian cat goddess, Z'Pasha, is now chapter two of my wip, WHITE FANG, ACE WOLF REPORTER. 
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Chapter Two ~ Z’Pasha of Dendera 

Z’Pasha stepped back into the concealment of the shadow she had created. Prepared to swiftly transport herself with magick, she observed the Super Wolf leap over the deck rail.

After quickly looking around, he focused like a hunting dog on a trail. Because he would remain unaware of her existence, Z’Pasha watched him flash inside the ethers. With her feline-superior gaze, she followed the streaming lines of his frequency.

Once the lines dimmed, she dissolved her shadow. As she raised her arms skyward, she heard, “Mommy, mommy, I smell a cat. Let’s go chase--”

“No! Marilyn, stop that. If you rip one more dress--”

“But, mommy, aren’t we supposed to chase cats? Please--”

“Not here! Later we’ll go for long run in the woods. Marilyn, I see fur...”

Unconcerned about the werewolf population in Talbot’s Peak, Z’Pasha smiled, something she hadn’t done for months. After briefly remembering her own rambunctious shifter kitten-hood, she concentrated.

Using her arrowed fingertips as a point of contact with the Ka-Ba, she transitioned into her smoke body. Aware various types magick were being practiced, Z’Pasha hid herself, then traveled in the Super Wolf’s wake.

She required all the knowledge she could gather about White Fang, and the reason why the Syxxrion Shifter had arrived in the isolated Montana town. Was he possible friend or foe?

Two days ago, upon her own arrival, Z’Pasha had cast her essence like a star field above Talbot’s Peak, and the surrounding area. With the All-seeing Eye of her spirit, she’d found the elusive Tiger Yakuza leader, Zhere Ghan. His stronghold proved to be near a small river tributary, hidden within massive outcropping of rock.

Once she’d eliminated any trace of herself above his territory, Z’Pasha scanned the energy signatures of the town’s residents. Wisdom demanded she identify the so called movers and shakers, and any being of consequence to her.

Destroying the life force of two Tiger Ninjas, in an act of retaliation, would be no small task, even with her goddess powers. However, outrage boiled Z’Pasha’s blood. While sadness coiled around her heart like a serpent, squeezing...squeezing...always squeezing.

The bloody and brutal shredding of her human friend was not to be tolerated. Larissa had done nothing to harm the Yakuza. In the wrong place at the wrong time, she had offered help to a man near death.

How could Larissa, as a mere human, have known the beaten man’s evil far surpassed the criminal activities of Zhere Ghan’s empire? Z’Pasha did not fault the Ninjas for ending the life of a serial rapist, one who also tortured his victims.

No, if the one with a coward’s entrails, and the cunning brain of crocodile, had attempted the abduction of her niece, as he did Zhere Ghan’s, her own claws would have ribboned his flesh without regret.

Yet, why end the life of an innocent?

After using their formidable skills to pummel the psychopathic human into a grisly state, the two tiger shapeshifters watched as death claimed him slowly, and with excruciating pain. Seeing the wretched man in the alleyway, Larissa had attempted to heal him with the natural ability bestowed on her by the Sacred. With not so much as a growl of warning, the Tiger Ninjas attacked her like enraged dervishes.

Z’Pasha shivered at the horrific memories, and nearly lost the Super Wolf’s vibratory path. Even now, Larissa slept in the divine embrace of restoration, currently lost to her.

Bastet’s favor remained, however. The path still shone slightly, and Z’Pasha gave silent thanks to her grandmother. About ten minutes behind the Super Wolf, she watched as he emerged from a cave entrance in his wolf form, a fluffy cat shifter beside him.

Z’Pasha journeyed with the pair, careful to hover high and stay behind them. White Fang’s senses swept the forest before him, his protective manner obvious. As a Syxxrion, if he had loosed his sensory powers in her direction, a swift departure would be needed. He would detect her presence instantly.

The Syxxrion were an intergalactic race of wolf shapeshifters, and inhabited many worlds. Why they kept a presence on Earth, other than the primeval beauty of the planet, no one in her realm knew.

Z’Pasha watched the impressive drive of White Fang’s haunches from her vantage point. His muscle-rippling strength as he loped and bounded over fallen logs caused a sudden yearning to burst through her, blazing as the Egyptian sun at midday.

As wolf, White Fang was a magnificently virile beast from the tip of his noble muzzle to the end of his silver-gray tail. The proud, yet measured carriage of his tail revealed his lone alpha nature.

Carnal desire slid up her middle like a knife, stunning Z’Pasha.

Although, she possessed a passionate disposition, this intensity was rare. Since the death of Larissa, lusty liaisons had been nonexistent--so fierce did Z’Pasha want righteous revenge.

As she continued observing White Fang, his great strength brought to mind the early days of Egypt. During this reign of the goddesses, spirit and technology had been combined in a balance that benefitted all. 

With the rise of corruption and the Draconian elite, there had been a gradual decline into a lesser culture. The eventual death of real magic for those outside the mystery schools, caused her kind to create enclaves, now curtained by protective mists.

Goddess Divine, how Z’Pasha missed the resplendent and festive sporting games. Once two of the pyramids had been completed, the competitors leaped or raced over them.

Unbidden, images of White Fang as both man and wolf competing in the Royal Sun Games entered her mind. Her fantasy refused to leave easily, despite the discipline Z’Pasha practiced to maintain the viability of her magick.

Dismissing the raw fire of her loins, she stabilized her lighter-than-air form. White Fang twisted, barely able to shove through a house’s pet door. Kitty Collins, that was the name on the mailbox.

Jealousy did not usually afflict  Z’Pasha. Staggered by her sudden reaction, she felt the sharp pangs grow like grapevines, as White Fang spoke with Kitty inside her home, both of them now shifted to human.

Many men, of every race, had fallen at Z’Pasha’s feet, and she had lustily basked in the extreme pleasures they offered. On occasion, to gain her own ends, she seduced men, especially shapeshifters--the ability natural to her as a feline goddess.

As Z’Pasha listened to White Fang’s chivalrous attention to Kitty, she wondered how pleasurable would it be to gain his assistance in her quest for vengeance?

Having briefly witnessed the Super Wolf’s handsome attributes as a man, obviously his seduction would be no hardship. Inspired by the right woman, Z’Pasha instinctively knew the Syxxrion would provide a passion and pleasure that enslaved the carnal senses.

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

Savanna 

Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance