Ghost Story

“Didn’t I tell you this was gonna happen?” Loki said sulkily. “This party blows.”

For once his twin brother Thor wasn’t in complete agreement. Yeah, the Beavers’ rec room smelled like wood chips and Bonita’s parents wouldn’t let her play the stereo loud and the games were lame, but the food wasn’t half bad even for a herbie house and the grownups were having their own Halloween party upstairs so for the most part they left the kids alone. Except for when Bonita’s uncle came downstairs and tried to scare them with some creaky old story even a first grader would scoff at. What did he think they were, six?

At least they hadn’t tried that ancient bit with the brains and eyeballs and that. Like a wolf’s nose couldn’t tell the difference between brains and a plate of spaghetti. Only human kids fell for that moldy oldie. Carnie kids would just eat the stuff, real or not. Most parents in the Peak knew better. Bonita’s uncle finally gave up and left the kids to themselves, which suited everybody just fine.

“The party’s okay,” he said to Loki now. “You wanna dance or something?”

“Nah.” Loki looked like he wanted to just sit and scowl. He seemed to be missing things that had become more apparent to Thor. Like how Bonita Beaver’s cowgirl costume fit her funny in the chest this year. It seemed to stick out more. Or how the girls wanted to dance more than play party games, or just stand and giggle at the boys. Thor had to admit he wouldn’t mind standing next to Bonita and her interesting new chest himself.

Loki nudged his brother. His scowl had upended into a grin. “Good thing we made plans in case this happened, huh?”

Bonita was standing in the corner with that stupid elk kid, Kerry Long/Lang/Loogie/Whatever. “Yeah, I guess.”

The nudge became a jab. “You guess?”

“Okay, okay. We’ll do it now. Before somebody’s mom comes down and checks on us again.”

“Right.” Loki waited for the song on the CD player to end, then stood up. “Hey. Who wants to see a real ghost?”

# # #

“The year was 1845,” Loki said, waving his plastic wizard’s wand in the air. His robe swirled around his feet, not quite dragging on the sidewalk. The other fourteen partygoers followed at his heels. Thor brought up the rear and kept a sharp eye out for any grownup who might screw up their fun. “The Talbot pack had moved into Montana the year before. They thought this part of the state was deserted, but there were humans around. Mountain men, cattle ranchers, Indians, that kind of stuff.”

“You’re supposed to call them Native Americans,” Eddie Cooper said. His family were bear shifters, and had given the Sioux nightmares up until about a century ago. “Though we used to just call ‘em ‘dinner’.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Loki said. “The point is, the Talbot pack thought there weren’t any dangerous humans up here—”

“Humans are always dangerous,” Eddie Lang said. Many of the others nodded.

“Exactly,” Loki agreed. “A bunch of them got hold of Jarrod Talbot. They called him a warlock and a skinwalker and all that other stuff. Then they put a noose around his neck and hung him from a tree.” He waved his wand. “That tree.”

The procession stopped and gawked in awe at the venerable oak Loki pointed to. It stood at one end of the small town green, within sight of City Hall. The Mayor himself, it was rumored, frequently helped himself to its acorns. “And now,” Loki continued, “on cold, dark nights like this one, the ghost of Jarrod Talbot appears to avenge himself against—”

“Wait a minute,” Bonita said. “That tree wasn’t even planted until 1925. So how could they have hung Jarrod Talbot from it when it wasn’t even there yet?”

The kids looked at Bonita. The Beavers were on a first-name basis with almost every tree within the Talbot’s Peak city limits, having planted most of them over the decades since the town’s founding. Nobody questioned a Beaver when it came to trees. They turned back to Loki for an explanation.

Loki never missed a beat. “Exactly. The original tree got chopped down in 1900. That’s why Jarrod stopped showing up, because his tree was gone. But this one got planted on the same spot. As soon as it got big enough, Jarrod’s ghost started appearing again. I mean, he’s a ghost, how’s he supposed to know the difference?”

The kids nodded. It made sense. Thor let out the breath he’d been holding in a whoosh.

“C’mon,” Loki urged, his voice hushed. “Let’s see if he’s here.”

He led the way across the street. They followed in a nervous clump. As they neared the tree Loki hung back until he was standing by Thor. “Did you check on the rope?” he whispered.

Thor was glaring at Bonita and Kerry’s linked hands. “Huh?”

“I said, did you check—”

“Yeah, yeah, gimme a minute.” Thor slipped into the bushes. Earlier in the day he and Loki had planted an old store mannequin in the tree, painted white and dressed in a ratty wig and a fake wolf fur, with a rope around its neck. Once they loosened the primary knot the thing would come rattling down through the branches. Kerry Lang would probably crap himself. Thor picked up his pace.

Seconds later he hissed through the bushes at Loki. “Dude! C’mere! Now!”

“What?” Loki joined him in the underbrush. He looked where Thor pointed. There lay their mannequin, still in its wig and wolfskin but minus the noose, crumpled up beneath a bush like a broken Ken doll.

“Dammit!” Loki swore. “The Mayor must’a found out or something. Now whatta we do?”

Dejected, he and Thor emerged from the bushes and rejoined their fellow partygoers. The group was getting restless, and skeptical. “Maybe it wasn’t this tree,” Loki said. “It might’a been—”

At that moment Jarrod Talbot appeared.

The ghost of the slain shifter dropped from above and landed before the partiers. What remained of his decaying flesh gleamed pallidly in the dark. His streaming mane was striking white and ragged. His eyes had no color at all. He was also missing his feet: his legs ended at the shins, causing him to float above the ground. A hangman’s noose dangled from his neck.

He pointed a huge, clawed hand at Loki. His mouth opened in a soundless roar.

The kids’ screams more than made up for his silence.

Kerry didn’t crap his pants, but he did shift. The panicked elk led the stampede back across the street. The partygoers—some human, most animal—followed the rapidly-disappearing Kerry toward the safety of the Beaver family’s rec room. All of a sudden those party games didn’t seem so lame after all.

“Geezum,” Loki panted, once they’d put a block and a half between themselves and the raging phantom. “He was real? I got his name out of a history book.”

“Looked real enough to me,” Thor said. He looked for Bonita, but she’d fled with the rest of the bunch. “Smelled it, too. Yuck.”

“We should go back,” Loki said. “Bet we could catch him.”

Thor demonstrated his growing maturity. He cuffed his twin on the shoulder. “Dude. You gotta learn to quit while you’re ahead.”

# # #

Chuckling to himself, Sergei followed the children just long enough to make sure they were safely on the way back to their little party. The few adults out on the streets peered curiously at the albino tiger shifter. A growl was sufficient to send them on their way as well.

Once he was satisfied the children were all right, Sergei returned to the oak. He tossed the noose aside and retrieved his long black coat and hat. His matte-black boots had disguised his feet quite nicely in the dark, giving the impression he was floating.

Dressed once more, he strolled toward Java Joe’s. There he would wash off the zombie makeup and collect his payment, a cup of the strong tea he favored. He would take no money from a mother looking to school her cubs in the hazards of frightening others.

Marissa had also promised him cookies.

Ah, Halloween. A time for treats, and especially tricks. Still chuckling, he entered the coffee shop.

ShapeShifter Seductions ~ Snarkology Halloween Blog Hop

Welcome to Howl-O-Ween in our shapeshifter town of Talbot's Peak, Montana. Here are some flash scenes depicting the costumed fun and frolic, and yes, they could be on the erotic side of romance. 

If you'd like a chance to win an ebook from our backlists, please leave a comment. 

And remember! to enter the Rafflecopter at the bottom of the post for a chance to win the hop-wide grand prize. 
~~~~~~


OLE!

Jamie adjusted his horns one last time before he clomped down the stairs. “You ready?”

“I was born ready,” Lamar announced, and swept out of the kitchen. “Oh. You mean for the parade.”

“Yeah. What did you think—oh my dog.” Jamie stopped dead. “You’re really wearing that.”

“And why not?” Lamar had dressed in a skin-tight, spangly gold-and-scarlet matador costume that would have caught a blind man’s eye at fifty feet, topped off with a blood red bullfighter’s cape. He twirled once, lashing the cape as he moved. It just barely missed a picture frame on an end table. He stopped and struck a pose. “Every year it’s showgirl this and nudie that. This year I want to honor my Spanish roots, and get in touch with my masculine side. However much of that exists, that is.” He flipped the cape again. A candy dish, thankfully empty, thumped onto the carpet. “You like?”

“I guess. I mean, I ain’t used to seeing you all covered up. Usually you’re, y’know … ”

“Naked?”

“Pretty much. Not that I mind.”

“I know you don’t mind,” Lamar said, with a passable growl that nevertheless ended on a hiss because he was a snake and he just couldn’t help it. “But we’re going to be outside, and Montana gets cold in October. Cold isn’t good for my skin.” He gestured with his chin at Jamie’s furry body suit. “That comes off too, right?”

“It will eventually, with the right persuasion.” Jamie did a slow turn to show off the rest of his bull costume: the horns, the mitten hooves, the calf-high boots, the tufted tail. He swayed his butt and got the tail going into a spin. Lamar watched, fascinated.

“Let the night pass swiftly,” he breathed in Spanish.

“The parade shouldn’t take more’n an hour,” Jamie said. “Then what? Over to the Pleasure Club?”

Lamar hissed again, a quick little burst that escaped him before he could stop it. Jamie knew that sound. He stilled his butt and his twirling bull tail. “Lamar. What’d you do?”

“I … may have committed us to be chaperones at the sleepover,” he said in a rush. “The one at the gym, for the ninos. I suppose I should have said something.”

“Would’a helped. When’d all this happen?”

Lamar swallowed. Because he was a snake, his whole body got involved. “About two days ago. There will be special-needs children at the sleepover. One group is hearing impaired. Usually Mary tends to them, but she’s got a date tonight. Bo asked if we’d fill in, being as how we’re both fluent in sign language. No one says no to Bo Ewing.”

“You do. And have.” Jamie’s eyes narrowed. “What’s up with you?”

Lamar was the picture of innocence. “Que?”

“This year’s whole Halloween deal. You wearing an outfit that covers you up. Not yelping when my outfit covers me up. No Pleasure Club. Doing nice things for other people. For kids. You don’t even like kids. What are you after?”

“Nothing, I swear.” He held up the cape before his body like a shield. “I just wanted to do something different this year. Every holiday becomes the same old same old. I get naked, you get twitchy—”

“I get embarrassed,” Jamie admitted. “I’m pretty used to you being an exhibitionist by now. Don’t mean I … ”

He trailed off. His eyes got wide. In two strides he crossed the room to Lamar and swept him up, cape and all.

“I get embarrassed,” Jamie repeated. “And I get uncomfortable in crowds, and I do like kids, and I hate showing off my body in public, and maybe my sex drive ain’t firing on as many cylinders as yours is, and … and you’re doing stuff that bores you silly but makes me feel more comfortable. You’re doing this for me.”

“I love you,” Lamar said. “Like that’s some big revelation.”

“Showin’ it this way is. It’s … ” Jamie quirked a grin. “It’s probably the scariest Halloween prank you ever pulled on anybody.”

“No prank, querido. Tonight we do things your dull, repressed, closeted way. We keep our clothes on in public and look after rugrats. But for Thanksgiving I’m going to strip you naked and tie you up and stuff you in ways the Pilgrims never dreamed of. You get no choice in the matter.”

“Deal. Y’know … ” Jamie’s grin widened as it warmed. “Them kids ain’t gonna be up all night. Bet there’s a storage room in the gym. With mats and stuff. If we can’t find a mat, well, we still got this.” He tugged his hairy top with a mittened hand. “If we can find a recording of Bolero … ”

Lamar waggled his eyebrows. “Already got one. They have players in the AV room.”

“So this ain’t all about you being considerate.”

“Snakes grow slowly. You can’t expect me to mature all at once.” He wrapped the cape around Jamie’s butt, just below the fake tail. “Eh, toro?”

Jamie nudged him with his Styrofoam horns. “Ole.”

Posted by Pat C. 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

GOOD LUCK AND TWO HUNKS


Sonya tugged at the hem of her skirt wishing she’d remembered how short the outfit was before putting it on.   Instead, she waited to the last minute to shop for her costume.  Outfits within her price range ran too small.  Those that fit cost more than she budgeted for.  Rummaging in her closet produced remnants of past Halloween costumes. A pair of knee high black leather boots, a witch’s pointy hat, a blood red cape, a cheerleader’s skirt, and a low cut black bra with sequins and a diaphanous matching pullover top.  Not her first choice given her heritage, witch genes aside.  Her magical abilities ranked next to nil.

A bit of makeup, her shoulder length copper hair tamed into a braid, and voila!    One enticing cutie for a night of. . .luck and passion.   Getting Diego’s attention and a sultry slow dance or two started her wish list.  Waking up in his arms and bed closed out the items to a fantasy filled night.  Not that she didn’t want more.  Diego’s charm and looks---the man was a hunk.  Six pack abs, muscles that reminded her of the lifeguards on the Baywatch reruns she viewed when insomnia took over, and a waist that begged for a pair of feminine legs wrapped around him as he plunged deep into her repeatedly.   Yes, at this rate her thong panties would need changing before she left for the party.  Her fantasies ran hotter than volcanic where Diego was concerned.

Tying her demi mask on, Sonya glanced in the mirror.  Maybe, just maybe, she could turn on her flirting skills and score tonight.  After all, she practiced.  Practicing in the mirror without feedback was better than not all, right?  Either way, she had to try.  Enticing a response mattered.  As she passed her kitchen table, she picked up her hat and leather pouch holding her car keys and wallet.  Part way out the door she paused looking at the old broom hanging the corner of her garage.  No, she wasn’t chancing things.  Last time she rode that cantankerous item, its quirky personality took over taking her for a ride that damn near landed her in the backseat of Diego’s convertible as he sped down the highway.  The blonde riding with him wouldn’t have welcomed the intrusion either. Some women didn’t like sharing.  Sonya didn’t mind.  Finding the right partners for a night of hot salacious sexiness sounded ultimately delicious.   Fanning herself, she bolted for her car knowing her courage needed room to increase and fly.  Ten minutes later, she hit the gas as she entered the highway with the car’s sunroof open.

Out on the highway closer to town, Diego shown the flashlight on the lug nut Kole clanked with a hammer.  “Dude, tell me again why you don’t have AAA?”  Diego winced at his voice tone. 

Kole looked up, shielding his eyes.  “Membership ran out before payday.  Takes time to renew.  Damn nuts are frozen.”
Diego bit his lip.  Mirth tickled his funny ironic sense of humor.  Laughter wanted out.  Clamored for freedom.  Kole’s Jeep offered more room for the two of them than his Mini Cooper did.  Having an all-wheel drive vehicle made sense given winters in Montana.  Gulping air, Diego willed his irony to relax.  He could have driven if his car wasn’t in the shop. 

Diego stepped back as Kole rose.  Their costumes differed in one item.  The blood red shirt he wore matched the lining of his cape.  Kole’s shirt matched his cape the black lining helped the midnight blue shirt he wore stand out as he moved.  Tonight their lust and need weighed heavy upon them.  The blood rare steaks and O-negative martinis sated the hunger rumbling through their bellies.  Passion boiled beneath the surface threatening to overtake both of them.  None of their clan vampiresses wanted them.  The unclaimed ones hunted for single mates instead of two.  Looking to others made sense.  Would one woman find them dually desirable?

Kole opened the passenger door, tossed the lug wrench inside.  Slamming the door shut, he grimaced.  His groin ached with carnal need rising as the moon reached its pinnacle.  Masturbating lead to more ache and lust. He’d found that out the hard way over the past three nights.  Diego admitted as much as they groused at each other as twilight fell rousing them both from their daylight sleep.  Their intended smelled near.  Each night over the last week, as they sat on the patio enjoying post dinner drinks and sweets, her scent teased them.  Tantalizing them to venture into the night to find and claim her.   Tonight she would elude them no more.  The hunt for her was on.  On until his Jeep declared no.  Kole turned, kicked at the tire, and swore as his boot connected with the Jeep’s frame.

“Frig it hurts,” he continued, leaning against the Jeep.  Diego’s snort didn’t help.  Blast his ironical humor.  Kole inhaled trying to keep his satirical wit in check.  Neither of them needed a fit of tongue and cheek puns mixed with innuendos happening.  Vampires didn’t hold their sides, howling like hyenas, and look at each other burst out in more laughter.  Another reason their clan considered them odd balls.
 
“I hear a car coming.  Wave the flashlight so we can get some help,” Kole said.

Diego made his way to the back of the Jeep well off the side of the road. He began arcing his arm back and forth hoping this person stopped and called AAA for them.  Two dead cell phones lay on the counsel between the front seats.  Practicality fled probably for the sake of its sanity as lust and craving united their intertwined demands.  If deities heard their whispered litanies, this person would stop.

Sonya slowed as first one flash then another caught her attention.  On the third flash, the vehicle and the two men standing near it came into view.  She gulped, gripping the steering wheel harder.  Squinting as another flash of light arced over them, she started braking.  Diego and his best friend Kole broke down, flagging her down.  Talk about good luck.  Easing on to the berm, she offered a quick prayer.  “Let tonight be the night.  Two is all right!”

Discussions ensued, calls made, and Diego sat next to her while Kole’s warmth and sensuous scent caressed one side of her nose.  Diego’s physical presence warmed her other side as lasciviously.  Wetness flowed drenching her panties even more as need worked its way upwards pooling in her belly until sparks flew higher.  Her nipples pushed against her bra cups begging for caresses.  Keeping her mind on driving became more difficult.  She jumped as Diego touched her.

“Sorry, Sonya.  I don’t know if you heard me,” he spoke.  His voice like silk slipping over her taut clit, teasing it, demanding she yield to him.
 
She couldn’t reach between her legs and adjust her panties.  Sighing, she replied.  “No I didn’t.  I’m sorry.”

Kole deep dark voice wrapped around her neck shoulders as he spoke.  “No worries.  Our place is near here.  Do you mind taking us home?”

Sonya caught her bottom lip between her teeth, hoping her hormones didn’t call out her answer.   One breath, then another did little to dampen the images flashing through her mind.  Not one, but two hunks claimed her.  More wetness dampened her panties.  As a beam from a street light illuminated, Diego, she caught him inhaling.  His gaze caught hers before she looked away.

Kole spoke again as if he read her and Diego’s silent communication.  “Yes, your lovely aroma attracts us.”

Moments passed seemingly eternity until Sonya knew her answer.  No more second quessing.  No flights of fantasy awaited her.  What she dreamt of, wanted, and maybe even needed awaited her.  Before dawn, two would claim her as theirs.  She knew this as sure as she exited the highway making the turns and stops needed to bring her to the address Diego gave her once she agreed to take them home.

Hours later, the sun shone through the partially covered windows. Trails of clothing littered the hallway leading to the back of the house.  The cries of passion and possession left no doubts as to who belonged to whom.  Bite marks adorned necks.  Sonya wore two set of fang marks on each side.  One at her neck the other on her inner thigh. Diego’s bruised neck and shoulder spoke of his possession.  Kole wore similar marks.  Three sated lovers slept entwined knowing their futures now combined.

Posted by Solara Gordon
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The UnMasked Beast Ball at the Pleasure Club 

"You take care of our beautiful mate, pardner. I'll go attend to the dining details." Zance affected a courtly bow, and Sherilyn giggled just a bit at the sight of her rough tough cowboy.

Zance bent at the waist as much as he could without dislodging the magnificent wolf headdress he wore, depicting his animal shifter side. Obviously, he'd been practicing, given the smooth motion of his bow. Sherilyn loved him all the more for it.

Unlike the costume ball in "The Three Musketeers", a 1973 movie, the life-size wolf head looked close to real. In honor of his wolf's coat colors, Zance's satin finery had been done in shades of gray, silvery white, and tan.

"As you say, pardner." Dontoya answered, playing his part. He took command of Sherilyn's elbow, his touch gentlemanly seductive in the extreme. "Our agreement, darlin'. Zance gets to dance with you first," he intimately whispered close to her ear.

"So, that was the outcome of your cat and dog fight last week. You two were covered in leaves...gave me an excuse to brush your coats. And pet you for as long as I wanted."

"Felt mighty good." Dontoya's smoky tone slid over her skin.

"Is that so? You didn't say that at the time." Forgetting her own lightweight feline headdress for an instant, Sherilyn danced a whirl so she faced Dontoya. Her fanciful satin gown –- a confection of several lavender shades and lace — deliciously brushed her legs as she teetered, off balance. "Oops."

Dontoya easily caught hold of her arm, steadying her. An amused smile played on his handsome face, and sheer love beamed from his dark eyes.

"No wonder men encouraged these fashions," Sherilyn teased. She leaned toward Dontoya intentionally displaying her mostly bared breasts. "It made women helpless without them."

Dontoya rumbled an un-gentleman-like growl, and Sherilyn almost believed the sound came from his black cougar headdress. Certainly, his inner beast growled with mating need. The ferocity coursed through her causing Sherilyn to tremble.

Their gazes locked, and she observed restraint shadow Dontoya's eyes. "Claws later," she sultrily baited the cat beast, even as her tightly bound nipples throbbed with pleasure.

Time fell away, and they entered their private world. Dontoya lightened his grip, then raised her hand to his lips. He kissing-nibbled her fingers, somehow avoiding the pretend cat claws on her fingerless, pale lavender gloves.

Sherilyn's breaths escaped rapidly, her bosom heaving. No wonder this bodice-constrictive fashion had become popular once upon a time. The sensations were erotic as hell and simultaneously she felt like an elegant princess.

"Elegant eroticism," she breathy-voiced.

"Yes," Dontoya lowered her hand, even as Sherilyn tingled with their mind connection.

She smiled flirtatiously, then stroked her fingertip down the midnight satin finery covering Dontoya's broad hunky chest. "My own black cougar man, I love how you look tonight. You are fantasy-irresistible. And I intend to enjoy uncovering you down to that beastly cock of yours. Minimally but temptingly covered, I hope."

"You can count on it. Me and Zance intend on struttin' our stuff in our 'barely there' costumes...Sheri Kat darlin'." Dontoya's virile drawl always curled Sherilyn's toes.

"Thank you for indulging me–"

"No, darlin'. Don't thank me. Seein' you dressed up and radiant... then, undressing you later, that's my reward." Dontoya eased her beside him. "I'm seein' a prime spot for viewin'."

As they moved across the pearlescent dance floor— illumined by candles in crystal chandeliers — the beautiful melodic sound of chamber music transformed the usual atmosphere of the grand supperclub. The delicate scents of rose, lavender, and jasmine perfumed the air further enhancing the extravagant ambience.

"I can't wait to see the animals the human non-shifters and the witches who aren't shifters have chosen for headdresses," Sherilyn enthused, even as she spied Serenity, one of the Pleasure Club's dance instructors. Entirely human, the petite slender woman with a wild mane of coppery hair, had chosen a cardinal, the female of the species, to wear as her headdress.

"I'm wondering if the club's renowned vampire escorts will be sporting vampire bats atop their heads,"  Dontoya offered, his tone drily amused.

"No vampire bats yet. No vampires either...by my supernatural senses."

"You've gotten downright good at spotting anyone on the supernatural side, darlin', no matter how human they look."

"Why thank you, kind cougar sir." Once Dontoya positioned them to watch the arriving guests, Sherilyn throatily purred, "Purrrrrfect."

They'd arrived early just for this enjoyment, and now Sherilyn quivered with utter delight as she observed the parade of women in their elaborate gowns, the men costumed in Louis XV finery –- and all of them wearing their fantastical beast headdresses. Albeit, the costumes were gorgeous fantasy versions of the historic French era's resplendent garments, rather than faithful reproductions.

"So far, the wolf shifters are winning," Sherilyn remarked, since the wolf headdresses outnumbered all the other 'unmasked beasts'.

"The big cats are more unique, more varied in appearance," Dontoya defended, his tone bantering.

"We feline types have to stick together." Sherilyn squeezed his hand, excitement owning her. "Tigers, jaguars, lions, leopards, and pumas. Bears too, grizzly, black, and here comes a polar bear, omy! Looks like the rabbit shifter crowd is here as well."

"Canines are king," Zance drawled, having obviously mind-tuned into what she and Dontoya had been saying. Behind Sherilyn, Zance circled her waist with his arms pulling her against his hard, cowboy-sexy frame. "Coyotes, jackals, foxes," he crooned to her ear, "and I seen several breeds of dog." 

"The herbies are showin' up now," Dontoya announced, as rams, sheep, bovines, a moose, an elk, an antelope, and a couple of buffalo entered the ballroom.

"Probably came as a group," Zance opined. "Instinct against us predators."

"I had no clue there were so many horse shapeshifters living in the Peak." Given her love of horses, Sherilyn eagerly watched for all those wearing equine headdresses. "Oh, and the birds are so exquisite. Look at that swan."

"The flamingos are more to my likin'," Dontoya rumbled, a grin in his voice.

"I'm partial to that hawk headdress. And the golden eagle is darn impressive." Zance nuzzled Sherilyn's neck, then touched his tongue tip to her skin, as if he kissed her as wolf.

Sherilyn melted against him. "I feel transported. I'm with the men I love and we're inside another beautiful, very luxurious realm."

"Me and Dontoya are always feelin' transported by you, sweet kitten." Zance hugged her waist. "Aren't we?"

"Transported to the heights of passion where the heart rules." Dontoya embraced her hand within his large one, squeezing. "Well, I'll be a son of a gun. I didn't know we had a skunk shapeshifter amongst us."

"Oooh, I see a chipmunk." Sherilyn stood on tiptoe to get a better view. At that moment Pasha and White Fang entered.

"Pasha must've seduced him to holy heck and back." Zance straightened abruptly. "To get White Fang in that sissy blue satin getup."

"Matches his eyes," Sherilyn defended, her gaze fastened on White Fang's majestic wolf headdress. The blue eyes were remarkably real looking.

"My bet is Pasha must be wearing the 'barely there' costume you described to us under that gold silk gown. What do you say, darlin'?" Dontoya cradled her hand between both of his, further igniting Sherilyn's desire for him.

"The fantasy lioness headdress is the same. So, I'd say you win that bet, my black cougar man," Sherilyn crooned seductively.

"Am I winning my bet?" Zance's raspy low voice sizzled her earlobe. For the briefest moment, his palms grazed like feathers over Sherilyn's nipples. The momentary friction caused her clit to jerk and pulse, the sensation splendidly carnal.

Earlier, as Sherilyn had dressed for the ball, Zance and Dontoya had brought her an erotic gift. The golden rings on her breasts only slightly pinched her aroused nipples. Yet the increased pleasure she felt, blissfully flamed through Sherilyn, and kept her on the edge of unbridled lust.

"You'd be winning that bet, cowboy," she huskily whispered. Languidly, she shimmied against Zance.

"My idea." Dontoya faced Sherilyn.

His hands spanned her waist, claiming her, and without effort Dontoya lifted her. Once Sherilyn's breasts pressed against his chest, he slowly allowed her to slide down his beefcake body. Sherilyn moaned at the exquisite and fiery pleasure.

"My very own unmasked beasts," she whispery sang, intoxicated by the very savagery of her passions. 

~~~~~~

This is the fourth flash scene in a series I wrote. If you'd like to read the previous flashes, here are the links.

First Flash Scene:
Time to unmask my inner cat...

Second Flash Scene:
Nothing scarier to a man...

Third Flash Scene:
"I'll be wantin' your claws later."

~~~~~~


HAPPY HOWL-O-WEEN!

Savanna 

Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance


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"Guys! Do you have your costumes on?"

"Guys! Do you have your costumes on?" Marissa shouted. She wasn't naming names because it was entirely possible her mate was not ready yet either. Their twins would be, so long as nothing distracted them. Being 8-year-old wolf pups, they distracted easily, though.

"Yeah, Mom!" someone shouted back from the kitchen. "We're just waiting on y--" The bellow was cut off with an oof, probably due to an elbow to the ribs from his brother. That would be Loki, her dark haired mischief maker. Thor was happy, blonde, and pretty much clueless about things like tact, manners, and things not to be said to mothers.

"The boys are just putting the finishing touches on the ordurve tray for the kid's party," Mooney, her mate, said without yelling. Clever wolf, he clearly knew she was close enough to hear him. She could also hear the manic giggles of small boys up to no good.

The first thing she saw when she walked into the kitchen was Mooney, of course. Damn, he looked good in the 17th century ivory suit she'd ordered for him for tonight's masquerade ball. Six and a half feet of swarthy, well-muscled hunk all decked out in a replica costume from the 1970s version of "The Three Musketeers" was enough to make any mortal woman drool, and it took a lot of effort to wrench her greedy eyes away.

And there it was. The most awesome veggie tray ever created.

"I am so putting you two to work making center pieces the next time I get a catering job!"

~ Rebecca Gillan 

~~~~~~

 
What's With this Town?

“Man, Silas, this town blows!” Daniel said, picking through his haul of tricks more than treats.

“I know, geez, raw veggies and meatballs.  No one gave out candy like they were supposed to.
Bunch a freaks.” Silas whined, tossing his entire bag in the trash.  “You know what, I overheard one of the guests talking about this wicked cool website that has scary Halloween stuff on it.”

“Cool!  But, mom would never let us look at the site.”

“Mom’s working, doofus and not here.  She’ll never know we looked.”

“That’s right.  Bring it, bro!”

The boys scrambled to the computer and booted it up.  “Do you know the web address, Silas?”

“Yeah, just hang on a sec.”

Silas tapped in the address and waited, Daniel hanging over his shoulder.  The screen went black and the cursor blinked in the upper left corner.

“Did you break it, Silas?”

“No, shut up.”

A string of letters ran across the screen…

Asjasfjapjpasjajpfjawpifjapjfasdlawofjwpfjpfjpsdfsdfasjfpsajfpisjdfpasjdsdfjsjfasdfaj

“Man, you broke it!”  “I did not!”

The computer beeped, commanding the boy’s attentions and the typing started again…

I can see you.

“Omygod, Silas, shut it down…shut it down!”

“Don’t be dumb, Daniel, it’s just a website.  It can’t really see us.  I bet it says that to all the people who check it out.”

“Oh, okay…yeah, that makes sense.  It can’t see us.”

Are you sure about that?????

“Silasssss.”

“It says that to everyone dummy.”

I really don’t Daniel, I mostly wait for mean little boys who pick on their sister like you and your brother Silas.  Then I come to haunt you on Halloween night.

The room temperature dropped to meat locker level and the computer started flashing and making clicking noises.  Over and over the same words were typing themselves…

You are naughty boys, you are naughty boys, you are naughty boys……

“Aaaaaahhhhhh…” “Move, move, move” “I want mommy…” “Shut up, Daniel.”  The lights went out and sent the boys running to the door, screaming at each other the entire way.  The lock clicked loudly, sending them to the couch instead where they pulled their knees up and cried as the pearly white ghost slipped in through the window and flew around above them.  The giant, see through, Indian, stood in the corner with a full headdress of feathers and warned them to be nicer to their sister or they would be justly punished when he returned.

“I’m sorry,” I’m sorry,” they both cried, burying their heads and calling for their mom.

The lights went out and the room around them quieted moments before the door squeaked open.

“Silas, Daniel…What are you doing?  Why are you sitting in the dark?” Their mom asked as he turned on the lights.

The boys looked around the now quiet room and wondered if they’d imagined it all when their sister sat down between them and dumped out her bag, brimming with candy. “Johnny found all the good candy places.”  She said, smiling at them.  “What did you get?”

“SILAS! DANIEL!”  The boys pulled themselves away from the unbelievable amount of candy their sister had scored in this rotten town when their mom screeched at them from the other side of the table.  She held up the laptop and frowned at them like she did before she took away their electronic games.  “Care to explain?”

On the computer there was a picture of them and a list of the sites they’d secretly visited over the last few days.  All ones their mom had expressly forbidden them from accessing.

“You two are busted.  Go get the games and bring them to me.  I hope you had a Happy Halloween, because it’s the last one you’ll be celebrating for a very long time.

###

Alec sat back and listened to the boys being punished by their mom on top of being scared by his owl under the sheet and someone’s watching you from the computer routines.  They deserved it for treating their sister so badly, but he had one more for them.

As he logged into the Trojan he’d built and typed the words he wished he could see their faces as they read them…

I’ll be watching…

He’d have to live with their screams filling this floor of the hotel from several doors down.  Muahahahahah

~Serena Shay~ 


************************************

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The Winged Ghost of Room 306

Wow, looks like I was long winded today.  It's been a rare occasion lately, but Hawke, Ally and little Rosie sure had a lot to share with me...

Rosie's looking forward to next weeks Halloween thrills in Talbot's Peak, and so am I!  I wonder what gems will be appearing on the blog hopping trail from our wild and unruly residents.

Have a great weekend, everyone!

~~~

“Mama, mama…”  

Ally smiled at the sound of her youngest as she finished checking in the next guest at the counter.  “Room 306, ma’am…and remember,” she whispered in a conspiratorial voice.  “That room is said to be haunted by the ghost of this hotel’s original proprietor, Chief Eagle - Flies by Moon.  There’s and oil painting of him in your room, I’m told, and he comes to admire it on a nightly basis.”

“Oh lands be, I hope he does child.”  The sturdy, grey haired Mrs. Ryneson who, for all the world, reminded Ally of a rhino, snorted through her ginormous nose.  “See, I reserve this room every year before Halloween in the hopes of seeing sexy Chief Eagle’s ghost, spending some quality time with Mr. Ryneson in Talbot’s Peak and ending the week by going to the annual trail ride.  I’ll tell you young lady, if I had a few less years on this body I’d be leaving here with another calf on the way…”

Ah calf… Ally didn’t have time to dig any deeper into the strange wording Mrs. Ryneson seemed to be using before she had her own calves tugging at her shirt.

“Mama…”

“Where’s the food…”

“This town is boring…”

“I’m off to scout for Chief Eagle, child…good luck with this brood of your own.”  Mrs. Ryneson smiled as she moved off in the direction of the stairs.

“Mama, guess what…”

“What is it Rosie?”  Her youngest had really come out of her shell in the last few months of living in Talbot’s Peak, but had yet to make any ‘real’ friends.

“Yo, mom…food.”

“Yo, Silas, can the rudeness.  There are fruits and veggies in the room.  Go eat some.”  Ally watched him storm away with his everything bores me brother tagging along behind.  Those two were going to be even more of a handful once girls and cars entered the picture, and with no male figure in their life it was going to be hell on her, but that was a problem for another day.

Today, right this moment, it was about the pouty nine year old in front of her.

“I’m sorry, Rosie, what did you want to tell me?”

“Guess what I heard today?”

“Hmmm, let’s see, you heard about the Great Pumpkin?”

“That’s pretend, mama…”

“Well,”  Ally stood there with her finger tapping her lip, pretending to think and waiting out the exuberant girl who was dying to tell her the news. “Could it be that you passed your test, today?”

“No, ah, I mean,” her daughter’s struggle to gather her thoughts was written plainly on her lovable face. 

“Yes, I passed the test, but that’s not the news.”

“Good job, Rosie!  See, with study…”

“Mama!”

Ally took Rosie’s hand and moved her away from the desk and over to the cushiest of couches in the lobby and sat them both down.  Intent on focusing only on what her sweet flower had to say.

“Sorry, Rose, you have my attention.  Why don’t you tell me what you heard today…”

And so began the animated telling of all things Halloween and Talbot’s Peak.  Almost all the businesses went all out with decorations, some places offered special brews for adults, and it was said that the costumes in this town were out of sight in their accuracy.  Ally wasn’t sure what that was all about, but she’d planned on taking Rosie out this weekend to find one of the special outfits.

“…And then next weekend there’s a trail ride and haunted house!  Mommy, can we go?  Can we?”

“I’m sure we can make that work, Rosie.  Tell me though, did you hear about this at school?”

“Nope, Hawke told me all about it.”

Ally’s stomach dropped at the mention of the figment of her daughter’s imagination.  It had been at least a month since she’s talked about the imagined ghost friend she’d named Hawke.  A month since Ally had sat her daughter down and explained that ghosts were not real and that it was okay to make real friends here in Talbot’s Peak, because they were not leaving.  She’d been convinced that Rosie had understood.  She’d hoped that since she’d heard no more about the elusive Hawke that Rosie was ready to let go of her imaginary friend.  Yet here they were again, talking about the ghost as if he were real.

“Rosie, what did we say about Hawke?”

Her daughter looked down and pressed her lips into a frown, anger rich in the taut hold of her body.  “You don’t think he’s real, but he is mama, he is and he’s right here with us…”

***

Hawke hurt for the child of his heart, the little girl he intended on making his daughter upon returning to the land of the living, but he understood a mother’s fears for her child’s mental and emotional health.  Rosie was shy around others of her own age, not due to lack of self-esteem, but because of her unusual gift.  She could see the dead surrounding those around her.  They couldn’t reach her, yet.  Her psychic shields were still strong, but as she grew, they would erode; leaving her defenseless and at the mercy of too many voices and demands. 

He would not allow that to happen.  She was touched by the greater being, given a gift only few had and it was his duty to teach her how to handle them.

“Little Flower, don’t be angry with your mother, she’s only worried for you.  Because she is unable to see me, she fears for you.”

He watched the two women who would become central points in his life, relax.  Their bodies lost the tension and their faces softened.  They were like two little chickadee’s sitting on a log.  So similar in looks yet vastly different in attitude.  The younger he would raise and teach the ways of his people, but the older he would marry and mate.  He would offer her, his soul and ask for hers in return.

First though, it was time to start convincing the luscious Ally that there was nothing imaginary about him, and to do that, he needed a bit of Rosie’s help.

“Little Flower, would you tell your mother something for me?”

The smallest of nods told him she’d heard his request.

“Mama, Hawke asked me to tell you something…”

The tension in his soul mate returned at her daughter’s words, but she listened.

“What’s that, Rosie?”

“He said, what he comes to admire in the dark of the night is not the ab-h-horrent oil monstrosity in room 306, but rather the lovely lady in suite 102.  He prefers the moon light as it reflects over you beautiful, chestnut hair.”

Hawke smiled at the eye widening shock fluttering over Ally’s face.  He was awfully glad they had remained sitting as his mate had just gone as white as his insubstantial body.    

"What Do You See In That Stone?"

“It was only a dollar fifty for fu…”

“Silas!  Don’t you dare finish that sentence.”  Ally’s patience was wearing thin with her son’s anger and foul mouth.  Her fear of the ever increasing mountain of shit she knew was nearing the point of collapse and her constant refusal to agree to any bit of fun for her kids was sending her natural mother guilt in to overdrive.  Silas was right, not that she could tell him that, but it was a dollar fifty cone for fucks sake—a simple cone she could not provide.

“Fine, but it was just a stupid, plain cone.  I want one.  I’m hungry!”

“If Silas gets an ice cream, I should get to go to the movie.”  I’m bored complained over his twins whining.  The only one acting like a big kid was her nine year old and that was just because she was currently engrossed in a rock she’d found at the park.

“No one’s going to the movies or getting ice cream.  Now please be quiet while we’re in this lovely lobby and let’s head up to our room.”

“Not…”

“…Fair.”

“Mommy…”

Ally smiled an apology at their fellow hotel guest who’d raised an eyebrow at her as she directed her brood through a lobby, filled with authentic old west décor.  Desperation and desolation did not belong in such a beautiful place, but those were the high ranking emotions filling her soul these days and she worried they would remain for some time to come.

“Mrs. Swans, excuse me…Mrs. Swans.”

Please, oh please, not now… Ally stopped the kids and turned toward the man calling her name, a name she was ditching just as soon as humanly possible.  “Yes, can I help you?”

“Robert Ferre´t, ah you know, how about you just call me Bob.  I’m the hotel manager.”

Ally gave the short, rat-faced man an assessing glance and wondered how far her pleas would go towards extending their stay for another week.  Sick with the fact that she would have to do this in front of her children, she wondered where to start.  “Mr. Ferr…”

“Bob, please,” he interrupted, waving his hands to cut off her appeal before it started.  “If you don’t mind stepping back this way into my office, Mrs. Swans.”

“Sure.”  Ally moved the kids in front of her as they all made their way to the hotel office.  There were chairs enough for her crew, set beside the door.  At least she could be shamed in private, but they’d still have to drag what little remained of their personal effects down and out into the street when this was all over.  She hoped her kids could handle it without too many tears.

“Mom, I’m bored, can I have a quarter to play the video games while we wait?”

“No, Daniel.”  She cringed at hearing that word come out of her mouth yet again.  “Kids, please wait for me in these chairs…no moving.  I’ll be right back out.”

Ally turned and followed Bob into the office, determined to do whatever it took to keep a roof over their heads as long as possible.

***

Hawke squat in the corner of the waiting room and watched the young Swans fidget in their chairs while waiting on their mom.  Each one of them made him smile.  The oldest, Silas his mother had called him, struggled with the order to remain in his seat.  His legs were stretched as far as he could get them with the smallest amount of his butt remaining on the chair.  

His twin, Daniel, kept on with the sighing that all young children seem to master along the way.  Even the children of yesteryear knew how to sigh.  It must be instinct.

The sweet little girl, a replica of her mother, sat quietly observing her rock.  “What is it you see in that stone, sweet’ling?”  He asked, but didn't really expect an answer.

“A ring or a bracelet maybe, I’m not sure yet.”

Hawke looked into the honest eyes of a child who could see him.  She smiled so prettily at him with no fear and a trust he wasn’t sure he deserved quite yet.

“Shut-up, Rosie, no one cares about your stupid rock.”

“Sorry about my brother’s bad manners,” Rosie whispered to him from behind her hand.  “He just wants an ice cream.”  

“Crazy…”  Silas once again took his anger out, verbally, on his sister.  Hawke would be correcting that behavior as soon as he was again corporeal.  Silas would be learning what it meant to be a man through hard work and encouragement.  He would, along with his siblings, find out what it meant to be a person of honor. 

First though he had a little girl to introduce himself too.

“Hello, Rosie.”  He waved and smiled at the accommodating child.  “Can you see me?”

“Of course.”  She chimed with a nod of her head.  “Are those real feathers in your hair?”