Viewers' Choice

Okay, here’s the deal: I started to write a follow-up to last week’s post and couldn’t get it to work. Then I got another idea and couldn’t get that to work. I came up with a third idea, and … fizzle. So this is what we’re gonna do. I’m posting my three beginnings and leaving it up to you, the readers. Vote on which one you want me to finish. Otherwise I’ll pick one myself. Or come up with something entirely different. Ideas are a dime a dozen. It’s the execution part that’s a pain in the butt.

#1: FAST AND LOOSE

Mirabella stared down at the creature lying on his back in the grass. He had the look of a cat to him, but was thin and limber as a rubber band, with bony, stilt-like legs. His pelt was nearly as yellow as the grass, and speckled with dark spots. His eyes darted from her to the muttering gray stallion to the Clydesdale gelding and his heavy, deadly hooves. The cat held very still, with his paws tucked in to his pallid chest fur in an effort not to look dangerous. He must have experience with horses, especially protective stallions.

She had seen cheetah-shifters before, though she’d never spoken to one. Nor had she expected to find one in Montana. To her knowledge, Wells did not employ cheetahs. That implied her own secrets were safe. So what was he doing here?

If only she dared shift to ask him. But no one must know she was up here, or that she was something other than a horse.

She backstepped to allow Hicks, the gray stallion, in close to settle matters. Hicks did not like cats at all, and wasn’t that fond of shifters. Whatever he decided, she would back him. Better safe than sorry.

#2: FAREWELL TO THE LONG BIG SLEEP

Ziva only ever heard Nick moan on two occasions: during bouts of passion in their bed, and behind his desk on deadline day. Today he was moaning in his office with no deadlines looming, and her not with him to provoke the noises. She practically crashed into the office. “You okay, honey?”

“Let me claw my eyes out first.” Nick rubbed the abused orbs in question and sat back from his computer. “I don’t know how, but he just keeps getting worse.”

Ziva came around the desk to massage his shoulders, and to sneak a peek at whatever had upset her mate. “Let me guess: Ralph. What did he do this time, savage the new SpongeBob movie?”

“Worse.” Nick shuddered. “He’s writing a book.”

# # #

It was a quarter past my second bottle of scotch. Outside my office it was raining like a sonuvabitch. It’d been doing that all week. I think the sun figured if it dared to show itself somebody’d take a potshot at it. Not that it mattered worth a shit. All the rain in the world couldn’t wash this city clean. I lifted my bottle to the absent sun and took a swig in its honor.

Ziva raised both brows. “A detective novel?”

“That appears to be his intention,” Nick said. “Somewhere, Raymond Chandler is spinning in his grave.”

“How did you get hold of this?”

“Lamar hacked into his files. You know how territorial he gets when somebody else tries to write a book.”

“And of course he shares with everybody.”

“That’s a snake for you.” Nick continued reading.

And then she walked in. A dame classy enough to make me put the bottle down. Blonde—I mean, c’mon, what the hell else? Legs from here all the way down to there, a set of highly dangerous curves and a rack that’d make a saint scream hallelujah.

Ziva winced, close to moaning herself. “Yeah, that’s Ralph.”

She sat her hot ass down in a chair and crossed those endless legs. “Mr. Jakes? My name is Alabaster Crowe. I want you to locate a missing person. My husband has disappeared.”

#3 THE USUAL SUSPECTS

It had to happen eventually, Gil thought. When you’re in politics, scat like this hit the fan as a matter of course. That didn’t prevent him from seething.

He knew he could strike Louie and the gang at Rattigan’s off the suspect list. Maybe last year one of them might have done it as a joke, but not now. He had a wife and children now. Louie had backed off from the practical jokes the second Chloe announced her pregnancy, and saw to it everyone else did too. Louie had a cleaver. No, it hadn’t been anyone at Rattigan’s.

Somebody had it in for the Mayor of Talbot’s Peak. He’d have to nip this in the bud. But first he had to deal with the press. “No,” he told the reporter from the Gazette through grinding, gritted teeth. “I didn’t and have never made a sex tape.”

That’s all, folks. Pick the one you like and I’ll finish it. Or feel free to suggest something else. As for me, it’s back to caffeine. Mamas, don’t let your babies grow up to be writers.

It's About Flipping Time!

The pain was coming faster and faster, her hands/paws were in a near constant state of shift and she knew for sure there was no time to get the hell out of the Guts and Butts Gazette before her baby was howling its way into this world.  It was the last part that pissed her off the most.

It was one thing to work here, play here, and scare the interns here…, but it was something else entirely to have her sweet baby here.  Gah, what a stigma to wear.  Sorry sweetheart…

“Fracking Lupa…cof,cof,” Ziva hollered, even as her vocal cords now joined her hand/paws in the attempted shift.  She was howling, literally howling, and Nick was getting panicky.

“Try to relax Ziva, hold back the shift just a little longer.”  His hands pushed harder on her lower back and the semi-shifted cords came back to their human form.  “Come on, people, I want suggestions on what to do without Doc Leo.”

Ziva relished his snarl.  When her mate got this tone in his voice, he meant business.  His alpha was taking charge and things would get done.

“Okay, bossman,” Penny chimed in first. “There’s always the human doctor a couple of streets over.  If we could hide the shifting parts perhaps he would continue to be oblivious to the state of shifterness in town.  Um, how sure are we this little one will be coming into the world in its human form?  ‘Cause that might be a deal breaker.”

“Oh Lupa…,” Ziva moaned, now additionally worried that she was going to be pushing out a pup with sharp little claws.

“That only happens if the baby is alpha.  Though come to think of it, you, Ziva, and Nickolas there are both fairly alpha in your own rights, so anything is possible.”  Her mother’s wave came on the cusp of some very good advice, but right before she lowered the typical bad parent hammer.  “That is, of course, if she was really pregnant. Release your wind, daughter, you’ll feel ever so much better.”

“OKSANA!”  Three voices spoke her mother’s name at once while Ziva tried to make sense of what had just happened.

“Did she just tell me to fart, that I would feel better if I FARTED?”  She’d had enough.  The pain and the weird partial shifts were bad enough, but add to that a crazy mother who still denied your pregnancy because she didn’t want to be old, well it was just enough.  “That’s it!  No baby…I’m done.  You,” she pointed with her madly changing hand/paw at her mother, “…leave, now. And don’t come back!  Everyone else, out of my office, I have woooooooork…”

“Z!” Nick caught her before her face was planted into the floor and lowered her to the couch.  Nothing mattered except the soul deep pain of a massive contraction that had her eyes crossing and her feet shifting into rear paws.

“Ziva, dear,” her auntie Liliya said in her sweet, quiet voice.  “Let’s meditate and do some deep breathing.  We could even try some of those eee, eee, ooo, whooshes the humans do.”

“Elly!  Get me Elly, Nick.  Get me Elly right now!”

“I’m right here, sweet Zee, no more worries.”

“Thank Lupa,” Elly had been a lifesaver to her over the course of this pregnancy and she trusted her
“hopefully” mother-in-law completely. Though she had gotten here rather quickly…   “How did you know I needed you, Elly?”

“Well, it’s all over town, sweetheart.  Everyone is waiting to see if Nick and Ziva’s baby is a girl or a boy.”

“Everyone?”  She howled with not only the next contraction, but also the knowledge that everyone knew she was bringing her child into the world in the Guts and Butts. ~Sheesh~

“Yep, everyone is so excited.  And the odds makers are overwhelmed.  Who knew so many here in town liked to place bets?” Elly’s smile put Ziva at ease, even when she adjusted her legs to take a peek at what was going on.  “Looks very good sweetheart, I can see the top of a head.  What do you say with the next contraction we get this baby on out here?”

“Yes…” When the contraction hit, she was past caring who knew what and what the odds were on the street.  She was ready to meet her little girl.

“Let’s push, Ziva.”  Elly announced.

“Nick!” Panicked, yet needing to push, Ziva reached out and grabbed at Nick’s hand.

“I’m here, love.  I’m here.  Push for me…”

Ziva bore down, surprised by the ease of things until it wasn’t easy anymore.  Nick cajoled her into pushing with each contraction, Elly encouraged, Liliya comforted and Vernon gave her mother a firm dressing down.  She loved the hell out of that old wolf.  The more she pushed the closer they got to success.  With a few more pushes everyone was encouraging and the sweetest relief was found.

“That’s it, Ziva, stop pushing, hon, your son is here.”  Elly gave her a huge smile as she raised the beautiful baby boy and placed him on her stomach.  He nuzzled in close and sensing food nearby, latched on without fuss to the closest breast.

Ziva laughed and look up at a stunned, but grinning, Nick, “This is definitely your son.”

Nick laughed, loudly and touched the baby’s head.  “Most definitely.”

###

Five to Ten Minutes later…

“Elly, how come you look so worried?”  Ziva eyed the woman still sitting by her spread legs.

“Just waiting, dear.”

“Waiting for whaaaaa,” Ziva moaned as the intense contraction spasmed out of control around her waist and back.  “Is the placenta supposed to hur…holy lunging lupa’s!  I need to push.”

“Liliya, take this sweet boy, now.  And Nick, grab her hand and get ready,” Elly instructed.  “We have another one coming, people.”

“WHAT?!” At least three of the rooms occupants hollered at the same time, but Ziva wasn’t one of them.  The pain this time was unbelievable.  It was like a fire in her loins and the shifting of body parts was uncontrollable.  This time, her tail even erupted.  She be embarrassed, but there was just too much pain for that.

“Push, hon, push”

She did, she pushed over and over until finally it was over.  She was exhausted, but the pain was gone and replacing it was the orneriest little growl she’d heard in some time.  It was loud, but young and by the looks around the room, she knew what she was about to see.  Elly lifted the most beautiful wolf pup she’d ever seen and laid it on her tummy.  With every growly-whine from the pup, her baby let out a wail. 

Twins.

“Well, I’d say there’s your Alpha baby.”  Liliya smiled down at the boy in her arms. “And this little one must be the beta.”

Ziva laughed uncontrollably and then looked up at Nick.  He was pale, but grinning.  There was such love in his eyes for her and their crew and at that exact moment alpha baby decided to shift back into the prettiest little girl.  The McMahon pack had a new up and coming alpha, the first female in a very long time.
~~~

Wow, sorry this post took so long, but life-us inturruptus, you know what I mean.  :)  So Nick and Ziva are parents...holy cow!  I wonder what kind of odds the town had on the birth and who might have won?  Next up...I need some names.  Suggestions?

Have a great weekend!
Serena

It's a Playlist Party at the Gazette!

Nick loved the early mornings at the gazette for the quiet, non-judgmental space where he could indulge in the less macho songs on his playlist without anyone being the wiser.  Ziva was good with his wide and somewhat irregular musical preferences, but with her pregnancy, the rest of his family and hers had begun to “pop in” whenever they damn well pleased.  Their surprise visits made it impossible for him to move and groove like he wanted too.

That left him with his office, early enough so his staff would couldn’t read him the riot act if they caught him singing into one of the many rulers from his drawer like he was now.

“Hoooot August nights…” Nick jumped to his desk, crooning the whole time. “Pack up the baby’s, grab the old lady’s…” Squatting, he reached out a hand to his invisible audience, attempting to improve on the last time he’d sung the song some three minutes ago. “Everyone knows Bother Love’s show.”

“HALLELUJAH!”

“Brother’s” He sang out, only vaguely aware the previous hallelujah wasn’t coming from the iPod or his head.

“HALLELUJAH!”

This time the ruckus sunk into his brain and he could feel his phone vibrating madly in his pocket.  A sick feeling built in his chest making him certain he didn’t want to look at the offensive bit of tech or open his office door, but he manned up and pulled the phone anyway.  The text warned him this day was about to go downhill fast.

ZIVA: HEY, NICKY DIAMOND, DID YOU FORGET TO SET YOUR ALARM?

He had.

ZIVA: NO WORRIES, I LOVE YOU!

Thank Lupa.

ZIVA: OPEN THE DOOR, MATE.

He really didn’t want too.

Nick jumped down from the desk, not at all ready to face the embarrassment beyond his door, but knowing that ripping off the band aid quick was preferable to a slow burn and continual jabs.  With his hand on the knob and a deep breath he flung the door wide and was mortified to find every employee he had smiling at him.  When Penny stepped forward he knew it was going to get rough.

“So…Brother Love, we have a little something for you.” She handed him a sparkly new 12 inch microphone.  When the sea of employees parted, there sat a high tech karaoke machine and Neil Diamond’s greatest hits on top. “This is from all of us, Chief. Use it with good health.  And if you keep it in the bull pen, then the rest of us can, perhaps, join you in a chorus or two?”

“Yeah,” Ralph, who was finally waking up and less grumpy, called out.  “We’re getting real good with the Hallelujah’s out here.”

A round of the joyous shouts went out, followed by whoops and hollers.  He’d misjudged his crew and was determined to make amends.  The karaoke machine had a slot for a USB so he could get a new iPod and attach it.  Link it to iTunes and let the entire group pick out their own songs to download and sing.  They were family after all and he could easily afford it.

“Jamie, go lock the front doors,” he called out to the little red wolf. “Then come back and we’ll all give this awesome gift a go.  Work can wait for an hour of so.”

Eight hours later, everyone was leaving for the day, no work down, but they were all both wiped out and jazzed from a day of robust enjoyment.

Nick’s Top Ten Playlist
10. Rock’N Roll Train by AC/DC
 9. Suck My Kiss by Red Hot Chili Peppers
 8. Poker Face by Lady Gaga
 7. The Futures so Bright, I Gotta Wear Shades by Timbuk 3
 6. Draw the Line by Aerosmith
 5. Squealer by AC/DC
 4. Holly Holy by Neil Diamond
 3. Give It Away by Red Hot Chili Peppers
 2. Dirty Deed’s Done Dirt Cheap by AC/DC
 1. Brother Love’s Traveling Salvation Show by Neil Diamond

~~~

 So here's Nick's playlist...maybe Ziva's will show up next week.  :)  If you'd like to know about anyone else's in Talbot's Peak, leave us a comment and we'll get them to divulge the info...somehow.  

Have a great weekend!

Serena

End of an Era

“Great Caesar’s goat!” Nick roared. Which, according to legend, Caesar had eaten grilled with a side order of fries. Nick vowed whatever was making that ear-splitting caterwaul would suffer the same fate.

He burst out of his office and into a scene straight out of a horror movie. Ralph Bruin, movie reviewer and writer of op-ed opinion pieces, was throttling the life out of a plaid canvas bag with pipes stuck in it. The bag shrieked a death knell that could probably be heard all the way to Missoula. Apparently his staff was celebrating the object’s demise, because they were gathered (not all that closely, he noted) around a desk with a sheet cake on it. Black balloons had been tethered to the chairs.

I’m not going to ask, he told himself, then said, “What the hell?”

“It’s a wake.” Oh dear Lupa. That thing with his face nearly hidden by his shirt’s black ruffles was Lamar. Behind him, Jamie looked at Nick apologetically. Ever since he and Lamar had hooked up, Jamie seemed to wear that expression constantly. “We’re celebrating the demise of 2013.” The snake wiped a tear from his eye. “I’m going to miss it.”

“Is that a bagpipes?”

“Yeah.” Ralph paused in his assault on all decent music everywhere. The bagpipes wheezed like an asthmatic. “There’s this Scotty bar out in the woods. I been taking lessons.”

Nick wondered how Lamar would taste grilled with a side of fries. He’d heard somewhere that snakes tasted like chicken. “Let me guess. ‘Amazing Grace.’”

“You kiddin’ me?” Ralph said. “I was doing U2. I wrapped up ‘Grace’ about ten minutes back. You people don’t know what good music is.”

Yes, we do, Nick thought, and that wasn’t it. “You’re supposed to clear any office parties with me first. Do you even still work here? I thought you quit to write porn.”

“M/M erotica,” Lamar corrected. “And this isn’t a party. I told you, it’s a wake. The old year’s coming to an end.”

“Good friggin’ riddance, you ask me.”

Lamar gaped at him. “Are you loco? Look at all that happened. The world didn’t end in 2012, for starters. It’s hard to beat that. Then we had the classic car cruise, and the fair, and that month where a bunch of people turned into My Pretty Ponies—”

“Which obviously it skipped you, though I can’t imagine how. That was not a fun time.”

“I’ll say,” Teddy called over from accounting. “I still whinny when I sneeze.”

“But everybody looked so pretty, with the manes and tails and all. Better than your usual grouchy—” Lamar watched Nick’s face get redder and redder and for once took the hint. “Okay, so we almost got wiped out by the psycho snake god—”

“Psycho snake god?” Jamie said.

“That’s right, you mammals wouldn’t remember him. No problemo. His wife got herself preggers and dragged him off to the serpent dimension, so todo es perfecto. And speaking of little wrigglers, I hear congratulations are in order.” He waggled his brows at Nick.

Nick went still all over. “What did you hear, and from who?”

“False alarm?” Lamar glanced at Jamie. “According to El Rojo here—”

“Hey, don’t go dragging me into this.”

Sharp horns and missed kills, Nick thought in a panic. Jamie. Because Jamie didn’t chase after the shes, Nick sometimes forgot he was still a wolf, with a wolf’s nose. He could read the changes in Ziva’s body like Ralph read the sports page. Thank Lupa she wasn’t in today. “Yeah. False alarm. Bad rumor. If anything winds up in the gossip column, I swear I will hire you just so I can fire you all over again. Got it? Oh scat. Tell me you’re not crying.”

“I can’t help it,” Lamar blubbered. “I hate it when the old year ends. It’s like shedding skin. You know why snakes shed their skin? Because they’ve gotten fat!” He burst into tears.

Nick gaped at Lamar, whose body was roughly the width of a No. 2 pencil, then at Jamie, who had his arms around his sobbing lover. “This morning,” Jamie said to Nick. “His moods’re jumping all over to hell and back.”

Sweet dog, Nick thought. This year couldn’t wrap up fast enough. “He’s not … um … ”

“Oh, hell no! That’s a rumor too. Male snakes can’t get knocked up.” Jamie looked suddenly panicked. “Leastwise, I hope they can’t. C’mon, sweetie, cut it out. Don’t be such a drama queen.”

“But it’s the only kind of queen I know how to be!”

“Hey.” Ralph patted Lamar’s shoulder gingerly, as if afraid whatever he had might be catching. “Look at it this way. It ain’t 2014. It’s 2013, the sequel. Same shit, different stink, y’know?" Lamar bawled louder. "Aw hell.” Ralph threw up his hands and walked away. “Hey, I tried. Who wants cake?”

“You want some cake?” Lamar asked Nick through his sniffles. “I really wanted a piñata.” His eyes filled up again.

“It’s fine. It’s perfect. Couldn’t be better.” Nick cut himself a hunk of cake and took it back to his office, leaving Lamar and the party/wake in Jamie’s hands. Whoever claimed reptiles were cold-blooded had never tried to work with Lamar.

2013, the sequel. More of the same, only worse.

Nick nibbled the cake—it was actually tasty—then picked up his phone and dialed Rattigan’s Pub. “Hey, Louie? Nick,” he said when the rat answered. “Next time Gil comes in, give him the biggest drink you make. Put it on my tab. Tell him I know what he has to put up with as mayor and I understand completely.”

Play...Play...Play Time!

I only wish to much play time was my excuse for not having a flash ready this week, but alas it was not.

Nope, seems I over extended myself and forgot to add in time to flash ya'll.  ;)  Fear not, though, I did hear from Glenn over at the Talbot's Peak Pet Shop and he sent me the little ditty below...

On another note, we here at Shapeshifter Seductions have been talking about adding a newsletter to the site. Something fun, a way for crazy characters in Talbot's Peak to share their trials, tribulations and fun with you.

So with that in mind I'd like to ask for your input.  What do you dear readers, like and dislike seeing in a newsletter?  Let us know so we can put together something you look forward to getting in your email box.

And Now....An ad found in this weeks Guts & Butts Online!

Pretty puppies white as snow

Take us home and watch us grow

We're eager for you to get to know

See our picture right below...

We need a home

Please don't moan

We promise to love you 

and never roam!

See Glenn for details...

~~~

Have a wonderful, puppy filled weekend!


Serena

It's Juicy Good!

Congratulations go out to Vernon McMahon and his new bride Mrs. Elly McMahon.  The word around town is that the ultra private nuptials were as beautiful and tear-filled as any uber-swank public wedding found here in The Peak or her surrounding areas.
 
The bride was radiant, beaming with happiness, the groom puff chest proud and the readymade family …well, color them surprised.
 

May the newly-mated find years of love, laughter and the down and dirty ahead of them.  May they also make their broad a little bit bigger!

Ziva sat back in her chair, grinning at the thought of Nick with a new baby big-horned sheep sibling strapped to his back as he worked.   Sure, it was unlikely to happen considering Vernon and Elly’s ages, but being that shifters were hella-fertile…hey, who knew.  She should probably take that last part out of today’s post, but Nick would go ballistic when he read it and a wound up Nick was always a delicious sight.

“What are you giggling about, beautiful girl?”

“Hey Penelope, come on in.”  Ziva pointed to the computer screen, not minding if the gorgeous Mistress read over her shoulder.  “I was just thinking what a sight Nick would make playing big brother to a baby…even better if the baby was a big-horned sheep.”

Of course now that she started to really think about Nick with a child, a tiny cub flopped haphazardly across his wide bare chest, a warm energy blasted through her.  Over the last few weeks her thoughts had become shockingly maternal.

“Oh Z, Nick would flip his fig leaf to see that in writing…you’ve got to leave it in.  Plus, when Mary gets a load of a public congrats like that in Nick’s paper she’ll be gunning for him.”

Ziva shot a discouraging look Penelope’s way as she deleted the last sentence.

“Ah Z, come on, we need a little action here in the newsroom.  Everything’s gotten to quiet and sedate.  That’s not good in this town…we can’t have the residents holding things in, can you imagine the chaos if and when they all broke at once?  Do it for the safety of the town.”

“What about the safety of my man?  I like Nick all in one well wrapped package, thank you very much.  If Mary laid horns into him, it might be weeks…months before I’d get him back in working order.  Nope, sorry, no can do.”

Especially if this warm mushy feeling was a tell-tale sign of a coming heat.   She needed Nick in fine form and his swimmers ready to go.

“Well fine then, how about a different tidbit I heard about Nick and that night?”  Penelope leaned down and whispered seductively into her ear.  “So, what do you think?”   

“That I can work with, and it won’t get my wolf hurt, just riled up.”  Ziva laughed as she added the new dirt to the congratulations…

The bride was radiant, beaming with happiness, the groom puff chest proud and the readymade family…well, color them surprised and soundly inebriated.  Our fine editor ponied up a hefty amount of dolla dolla bills, ya’ll, for the groups consumption.  He was later spotted in the dark of night walking arm and arm down the streets of Talbot’s Peak with his new brethren both singing and signing—We are Family…     Tell us editor McMahon, did you have your sisters with thee.  Hahahahaha
 
Over and outie,
 
From your friendly neighborhood Juicy

~~~

Here's to hoping all the gossip you hear this weekend is Juicy good and about someone else!  ~wink~

Serena

Zombies Sighted on Black Friday!

~~Attn Talbot's Peak residents, Zombies have been sighted at stores in surrounding towns, partaking of black Friday deals.  Stay safe...you've been warned.~~

Ziva smiled as she made the last of the tweeks to her Friday post on the Guts and Butts site.  The not so gentle reminder to the more than human sect of Talbot's Peak was like a secret service announcement to the world.  The last thing this sleepy little town needed was a group of Were's shuffling and jostling in a line of humans trying to score the best deals on the worst shopping day of the year...

Trampling was just the beginning of the ugliness a group of shifters could cause...

It was a good thing most animals were wierded out by zombies and crowds - her little jpg warning above ought to be enough to keep the shifters in town and away from angry mobs...she hoped.
~~~

 Stay safe today, and if ya'll go out for deals...watch out for Zombies and out of control Were's!

Serena

Blade Runner ~ Rabbit Shapeshifter

An homage to Harvey, the giant invisible rabbit.

Greetings Shapeshifter lovers, currently my thoughts are a mishmash. And, I even have a good reason. I spent a good portion of the day battling a snowfall, and the resulting accumulation. Yeah, it was one of those times I had to get out and get stuff done before even worse weather moved in.

BTW, anyone ever found a rabbit under the hood of their car, van, etc.? I’ve never found a rabbit under my hat, but yesterday before I left, I started the minivan, then opened the hood to check the antifreeze level. Suddenly, I was staring at a rabbit. I screamed because it was so unexpected. Poor bunny, a cottontail, scrambled and dived out the way it had probably gotten in, at the back of the engine block. It was a tight squeeze, but I’m assuming, hoping Bunny is okay, and in a better comfy spot.

With the Chinese Year of the Rabbit on the near horizon, I had to wonder if this was spiritually significant. Maybe, as I suspect from other happenings, Rabbit wants his/her own shapeshifter story. Yes, I have a few WIPs. One of them deals with the Rabbit as time traveler, which is a traditional role for Rabbit in some cultural myths.

So, can a Rabbit Shapeshifter survive in Talbot’s Peak, a town owned by a Werewolf pack?
~~~

Blade Runner ~ Rabbit Shapeshifter

Banished from the Mother Ship because of his lackadaisical, don’t-give-hop performance, Blade Runner maneuvered his flight sphere into the densest part of the forest that surrounded Talbot’s Peak.

So he’d made a deal to get a lighter sentence, and agreed to report on the inner workings of Earth’s shapeshifter community. Turds, he was better off avoiding the hungry fangs of the werewolf population than patrolling the Warren workstations.

As a quality control officer, he’d been cross-eyed with boredom. Overseeing who did their job well, and who wasn’t up to hippity-hop par, had long since lost its appeal as a route for advancement.

Using his mental prowess, Blade settled the plasma light sphere within a huge thorny thicket close to the underground cavern he’d claimed as his own. It hadn’t taken that long to spook the trolls into leaving for good.

Given the sphere adjusted its size, Blade generally traveled as his rabbit self. It made him less of a target for UFO hunters, ghost hunters, and the black ops squads. Now, he hopped through the plasma skin, and entered his cavern home.

Minutes later, he’d shifted to human form and dressed in a sleek, about-town suit. The dark chocolate color emphasized his brown eyes and matched his slicked-back hair. In contrast his open, white silk shirt showed off his Latte-colored skin.

After a glance at himself in his makeshift holo mirror, Blade reached for the weapon that was his trademark. The slim nano-platinum blade was the length of his forearm. He slipped it neatly into the hidden pocket of his sleeve.

When it came to the weapon’s use, no other Rabbit Warrior had ever defeated him in sports combat. He’d retained the title, First Blade, for so long, the name had stuck like a fur-buried burr.

Moving to the only empty area of his comfort-filled home, Blade time-phased into the hallway outside of Nick’s office. No time like the present to convince the editor of the Guts and Butts Gazette he needed a reporter who had access to the highest social circles, unlike the butt-sniffing, gossip-mongering Maggie.

“Where the scat-hell did you come from?” Nick snarled. His eyes glowed dangerously, and the points of his fangs gleamed.

Blade gave him a small unconcerned grin. He took a moment to casually adjust his suit jacket, then pointed straight up.

When Nick growled menacingly, and his claws burst out, Blade offered his hand, human style. “I’m an intergalactic traveler. I also travel in the elite social circles. Give Brandon Wayne a ring. He’ll give me the wingtips up.” Pausing an instant to assess the werewolf, he added, “Blade Runner is the handle.”

Ignoring Blade’s extended hand, Nick nodded toward his office. “Let’s talk more about your qualifications. You can also explain why you smell like a buck rabbit.” Pivoting toward the open door, Nick halted. “Enter at your own risk,” he growled over his shoulder. “I missed a meal.”

“I’m an extraterrestrial species and not palatable to your kind.”

“Yeah, yeah, save it for those who believe in that woo-woo, outer limits scat. If you got creds with the Big Bat I’m all pricked ears, Fluffy Tail.”

“Speaking of tail...” Blade did some sniffing of his own. “I can offer excellent advice on mating with the female of your choice.”

“Shut up!” Nick snapped his jaws. Indicating the chair before his desk, he growled, “Sit, humper thumper.”

Some ten minutes later, Nick stared at him with a dumbfounded expression. Not because the ‘Big Bat’ had verified his claim that he could report on the rich and famous from the inside, but because...

“A Star Trek Cottontail... well, ain’t that just grand. Welcome, Fluffy Tail, to Earth. But, you mess up here and I’ll not only fire your ass, I’ll eat it.”

Blade savored his urge to draw forth his version of a rapier, and prove to the werewolf his rabbit ass wasn’t so easily dined upon. However, he contented himself with the knowledge that he’d gotten precisely what he wanted. For now.

Hippity-hop, hippity-hop. A buck bunny like him wasn’t so easy to stop.
~~~~~~

~ HAPPY HOWLING NEW YEAR ~

Savanna

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

New Moon, New Year Predictions by Gypsy Red Wolf

Howling wow, here we are, shapeshifter lovers, at the beginning of a new year. Well yip-yip, what newspaper can resist publishing a predictions column for 2011? Obviously, the Guts and Butts Gazette is no exception.
~~~


New Moon, New Year Predictions by Gypsy Red Wolf

Ah, my wolfen brethren, yes...yes, my crystal ball is clearing now. There it is...the yellow snow is disappearing. ~yip-yip laughs~

But, sniffing-seriously, during this time of the new year and the new moon...in this time of the dark moon within the first fire sign of Aries, ancient wisdom dictates it will be fortuitous to charge forward with your highest hopes and dreams. Take the prey by the back of the neck, and shake, so to speak, until your most prized goal is off the ground and running full out.

Omy, dear wolf ones, I see an exciting year ahead for all of us. No, none of us will be spared the trials and great tribulations ahead. Yet, the triumphs gained will outweigh a herd of elk. Remember that, all my special spirit cubs.

Of course, I remain available as your personal psychic advisor.

Ah, yes, how the mighty will fall in this year of 2011. From the top of their pinnacles they will be dropped from the stern snapping jaws of the Mother Wolf Goddess. Yet, heed this roar of caution before your howling cheers reach the summit.

At first, it will seem as if the ‘big bad wolf boys’...and, don’t we all grrring-know who ‘they’ are...wait! Yes, yes, I am seeing it even more clearly, my moon-singing friends...it will look like the pack-brokers at the top of Talbot’s Peak are prevailing in their bid for more throat-grabbing and gut-slicing power.

Their sinister plans are in full play. And still, there is another dark enemy that threatens our beloved Talbot’s Peak. Stripes...stripes are forming. Think: Return of the Evil Ninja. And watch out for those Ginsu claws, my precious loup-garous.

As times become more and more challenging in 2011, remember what the good book advises: “pride goeth before destruction, and a haughty spirit before a fall”. Or those with false pride and a corrupt spirit will fall to their destruction. The Mother Wolf Goddess knows who you are, and her jaws are omnipresent and fearsome.

To that deserved end...oh! Woof, Woof and tail-wagging flirtation...do I see some handsome alpha champions who have recently arrived to fight for our free shifting town.

And...rumbling-growl yum, I also see a rebel hero among us. No, I will not reveal any identities. Suffice it to say, our own hero alphas, will leap to the fight, as well, their fangs slavering and bared against our foes.

And, no, I must not leave out our shapeshifter brethren and friends. For, many of them are our allies in these dark-to-light times. So, be kind and extend a friendly inclusive paw.

Ah, now to the all-important question. What about LOVE? Oh, I do see good news on the romantic front. During what some of us fortune tellers are calling, The Year of Winter, many of us in Talbot’s Peak will curl up before the fireplace with new mates.

Yes, love will find a way during 2011. Despite the tumultuous and dangerous days before 2012, many of us will be joining with our mates. However, the path will be anything but smooth.

Still, take much hope when love appears to have deserted you. This year, the heart takes center stage. For, the sacred Universe is broadcasting the love vibration as never before.

To celebrate this New Year’s love vibration, you are invited to the Interspecies Pleasure Club, where I will be the featured dancer every Saturday night.
~~~

Your Gypsy Red Wolf

~ Psychic to the Furry, Feathered, Amphibian and Scaled Shifter ~
~~~~~~

~ HAPPY HOWLING NEW YEAR ~

Savanna

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

The Love Wolfess Joins the Cast

Happy howling and yowling New Year, shapeshifter lovers. Come on in. It’s nice and warm inside this den, especially with The Love Wolfess, a new cast member, and long-time resident of Talbot’s Peak.

The Love Wolfess

Sozchy rolled on her side, trying to ignore the insistent knocking, then clawing on her front door. At Devon’s pleading whimpers, she released an exasperated sigh, then punched her pillow.

Scat city, the spoiled whelp! It was nearing dawn and she needed to sleep since she had a new radio gig going at Dante’s pleasure club as The Love Wolfess, advice for the lovelorn shapeshifter.

Devon pitifully whined, and her stupid tender heart got the better of her. Sozchy groaned, then grrrrred at herself as she sat up. “Yeah, it’ll probably get me caught in an effing spring-loaded trap one of these days,” she muttered.

After swinging her feet to the floor, Sozchy shook her head, clearing away the cobwebs of sleep. Her sable hair tumbled down her back in waves, then pooled over her hands as she pushed upward. Groan-growling again, she shoved her bare feet into her sheepskin slippers, a gift her mother had given her from her last kill.

As she padded toward the door, Sozchy shouted, “I’m coming...no, I’m not, you preppy cur.”

“Guilty,” she heard Devon’s muffled admission through the door.

Grabbing the lightweight coat hanging near the door, Sozchy slipped it over her comfy don’t-need-a-male, but want-a-real-alpha PJs. After belting the coat tight, she sniffed just to make certain it was Devon. Werewolf habits were a good thing in her survival book.

Cracking the door, she peeked out. Cat-tail humping Devon, her ex from many moons ago, stood with one hand shoved deep in his designer jean’s pocket. He leaned on his arm, propped above him, and gave her a you-saved-my-hide grin.

For an instant, Sozchy stared at his golden-wolf good looks. His dark caramel locks were as stunning as ever, falling close to his broad, speed-explosive shoulders. Devon was one of the fastest wolves in the pack.

He raised one brow while his dark eyes glowed a gorgeous amber. “Let me in...?” he paused, “I need some advice from The Love Wolfess.”

“Yeah, right. I bet you haven’t read ‘one’ of my columns for the G&B Gazette.”

“Nope. But, the maids devour it every morning. I get the digested version.” He gave her a lopsided grin. “How about some private advice?”

“If it was only advice...pampered pup.” Giving her hair a careless toss, Sozchy stepped back to let him enter.

He sauntered past her as if he gripped the world by the snout. Though, Sozchy could tell by his subtler gait, Devon was deeply troubled. It was why his whining had gotten to her.

She’d heard whispers at the club that the Tiger Yakuza threatened Talbot’s Peak, even a rumor his sire had sniffed their stripey asses in his psycho-lust for more power. Given that, Sozchy had to wonder if Devon had come to confide in her, as he had during their cubhood together.

Before shutting the door, Sozchy scented for any ‘unwanteds’ around her cabin home. Relieved to find nothing, other than the faint smell of fucked feline on Devon, she moved inward. “Early morning visit to prove your mounting studliness to daddy wolf?” she mocked.

Devon pivoted, smooth and powerful, to face her. “Yeah, babe, you know my sire,” he quietly growled. “You are planning on coming to my find-a-mate party?”

“Nooooo,” she sang, her fangs wanting to show. “It isn’t on my social calendar.” Sozchy studied him as she folded her arms across her chest. Tightly.

“I sent you an invitation.”

“Yesss,” she exaggerated. “So?”

Like a suddenly deflated balloon, Devon slumped into her favorite chair. Not looking at her, he hunched his shoulders as he leaned forward and gripped his hands. “I’m in cave deep scat.” When she said nothing, he continued, “It’s my own dingle-ball fault.”

Knowing Devon behaved like an inbred poodlehead as a way to rebel against his sire, Sozchy remained silent, and waited for him to spill his guts. Just the way, they sliced open the guts of the prey they’d killed together. So long ago.

“I’m in love with her.” He rose up slightly, but still didn’t eye Sozchy straight on. “I knew what she was, is.” Restless as a hunted and circling wolf, he moved, but didn’t get up. “I played dumb with her. Now...” he howled softly, “I don’t want her to know.” He swallowed back a whimper. “I don’t want her to know, I knew.”

Devon launched upward, and grabbed the back of his neck. “Lycaon, Sozchy. She was so beautiful.” He gazed at her now, the agony of his heart obvious. “I didn’t want to...have to...have to kill her.”

“Kill her?”

“I seduced her. Or, let her seduce me.” He shrugged. “Doesn’t matter now. We seduced each other. And, it was good. So damn fucking good.” Devon snagged a breath. “It’s still good.”

Sozchy’s fangs practically gnashed, but her training as a counselor took over. She arched her brow. “Want to get to the fang endpoint here?”

“She’s an assassin for the Tiger Yakuza...”

Sozchy collapsed now, into the winged chair close to her fireplace. “Scat, you bonehead. And, I mean both bones.” She managed to glare ferociously, once she shook the hair from her face.

“Yeah, scat. I know.”

“What advice do you want? How to dump an assassin? How to handle an in-heat tigress? What?!”

Devon had the grace to look like a wolf in sheep’s clothing as he gazed at her. “I was hoping you would cover for me at my party. Pretend we are about to be mates.”

Sozchy felt her jaw drop. She saw through feral eyes. Still, she spoke with icy calm. “I’m not acceptable mating material according to your father. Remember?”

Devon gave her a bit of his usual cocky grin. “That’s the good part of this plan. A little show of son versus sire defiance at my party, by showing up with a she-wolf who doesn’t meet Daddy’s approval.”

“Yeah. Watch the fur fly in one direction. While the fur is humping and flying in another direction.”

“You do understand.” Hope lit his eyes.

“When don’t I?” Recovering her spine, Sozchy hopped up, and paced. “Just how is this supposed to work? Other than I end up fighting off a jealous professional assassin with claws like blades, while ‘daddy’ targets me for an unsporting run through the woods.”

“No worries about my tabby. She knows you’re only a friend.”

“Tabby,” Sozchy muttered, then snarled at Devon.

“She approved of this plan. Look at this way. You’ll be saving another she-wolf from her assassin’s claws.”

“Oh, this is beyond the kill. She doesn’t know you know she’s a Yakuza assassin, but she ‘approved’ this plan.”

“Then, you will...” Devon went for her jugular, as in her heart.

“Only to keep a huntress eye on what’s happening. For the sake of Talbot’s Peak.” Sozchy faced him, hands planted on her hips, her human fangs bared. “I won’t show throat to your father. And, you better make certain he doesn’t send his pack of brainless curs after my hide.”

“I’ll let him know it’s off between us. He won’t have a reason.”

Sozchy tilted her head, all she-wolf attitude. “You should know White Fang Kent is a friend. I understand he still has Daddy’s limo.”

Somewhat to her surprise, Devon barked and yipped with laughter, even holding his sides. Finally, his butt hit the raised stone platform before her fireplace, large because she slept on it as wolf.

When he looked at her, his eyes glittered with amusement. “Yeah, babe, the Fang tracked me down to warn me about the Yakuza. Let’s just say, we came to an understanding. I even gave him a few meaty bones to chew on about Daddy’s empire. And, promised him more. A promise I intend to keep. Looks like we might be on the same side.”

“Like we used to be,” Sozchy murmured. “So, whelp breath, when do you plan to tell your tigress the truth?”
~~~~~~

The Kougar’s news ~

If you enjoy blog hops and want the chance to win a Kindle, I will be participating in one on January 1-2. Here’s the beginning addy ~ booknibbles.com ~
~~~~~~

~ HAPPY HOWLING NEW YEAR ~

Savanna

Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance ~

Winter Solstice Howls and Investigating the Tiger Yakuza

Winter Solstice howls and yowls, shapeshifter lovers... oh, yes! It’s been overcast all day. However, the clouds just thinned enough to see an early stage of the lunar eclipse. Almost straight overhead Luna is about a third of the way in shadow. She is looking lovely and mystical.

Here we are at a cosmic turning point. This marriage between the Winter Solstice and a Lunar Eclipse will bring forth, and unite, the feminine and masculine energies in a whole new way. These new dynamics will, in time, change the entire landscape of how women and men relate to each other. For the better.

It will also change how we view ourselves. Given we are composed of both feminine and masculine energy...we are yin and yang...those opposites inside us will become understood at a higher level. And we will use this higher understanding to express ourselves in powerful ways.
~~~~~~

White Fang Kent, Investigating the Tiger Yakuza

White Fang balanced himself on the narrow ledge outside of Damien Hancock’s mountainside mansion. Watching the eye glints of Hancock’s pack sentinels, he avoided detection as he inched toward the large office window, designed to look down upon the town of Talbot’s Peak.

Despite their hot and panting passion for each other -- despite the fact he’d been about to crush Pasha’s lush mouth beneath his for the first time -- her magick eye had suddenly manifested between them.

Both of them stilled, mesmerized by the golden brilliance rotating before their gazes. Even as the eye pulsed, its radiance almost blinding, Pasha continued sensually stroking his back. White Fang kept her tight against him, his palms filled with her firm blatant ass.

“Watch,” she murmured. Lifting her hand, she brushed it with her fingertips.

Compelled by the scene captured within the magically formed eye, White Fang focused. Several of the Yakuza ran the forest as tigers.

He felt Pasha go rigid for several seconds. Spinning out of his arms, she swiftly changed into outdoor gear.

Silently taking hold of his hand, his goddess seductress swept her hand in a circle. She led him through a phase portal, then unerringly wove them through the dense forest.

Once they arrived at the exact spot he’d seen, she followed a glistening ribbon of light to its endpoint. Halting them inside a stand of saplings, she faced him and whispered, “This is where I first caught sight of Khan’s seven sons. Their lair must be close.”

Despite his fierce-humping need for her, White Fang managed to single out each Tiger’s faint scent. It didn’t take him long to memorize the seven unique, but similar smells of Khan’s cubs.

Somehow, he’d convinced Pasha to return with him to Dante’s pleasure club instead of hunting them down. Before he departed, intent on investigating the Tiger Yakuza’s every move, Pasha had grabbed hold of him molding her sex-kitten curves to his body.

Seductively sinking her fingers into his hair, she fisted. As she passionately brought his mouth to hers, her hunger sizzled every nerve he owned. The kiss she laid on him still singed his lips and banged his balls.

White Fang scanned for Hancock’s prowling sentinels as he braced himself against the window’s prominent frame. Still unseen, he turned up his super hearing.

Seconds later, White Fang nearly choked. Tears sprang to his eyes. Lykouz! Sure hell enough, the tangy, incense-saturated odor of Shere Khan’s third son might as well have fang-clamped around his throat.

He’d caught Tasman’s scent from his den lookout, close to the Tiger Yakuza’s base of operation. After rapidly shifting to his human form, White Fang had jerked on his chameleon suit. Like a second skin, the suit altered to match his surroundings, and also obscured his scent.

Charging to superspeed, White Fang followed a shortcut up the peak. Now his hunch, backed by investigation, proved out.

Obviously, at some time in the past, Damien Hancock had joined his unsavory paw with the Tiger Yakuza. Otherwise, the so-called Lord Khan would never have sent his son to arrange another ‘understanding’.

White Fang tamped down his sense of smell, and pressed his ear against the rock wall. What he heard confirmed every suspicion and more, so much leaping-over-tall-buildings more.

The Tiger Yakuza also wanted his hide nailed to the wall. No Great Caesar’s Ghost surprise to him. For an instant White Fang grinned at himself. He had to like the Superman character, given their similarities.

Preparing to slip away, White Fang debated with himself. Should he track Devon down first? Protect him from the slice and dice claws of the Yakuza? Or, should he contact Brand first, let his long-time friend know...

“What the dog-damn fuck!” Damien bellowed.

Before White Fang whipped forward and dived, he caught sight of the dirty-paw tyrant’s enraged face. His muzzle had popped out, his whiskers flattening as he bared his teeth.

Righting himself, White Fang spun in the air like an ice skater. With ease, he lessened his falling speed, then landed on top of Damien’s spit-shiny limousine. Above the resounding thud, he heard Hancock barking orders.

“Rip that son of a gamma bitch apart. I want his scat balls hanging on my trophy wall.”

With a pack of slavering werewolves racing toward him, White Fang grabbed the keys from the chauffeur’s furry clawed hand. Leaping inside the limo, he slammed the door, started the engine, and stomped on the accelerator.
~~~~~~

~ HAPPY WINTER SOLSTICE ~

Savanna

Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance ~

Tongue Definitely Included!

“Freedom! Sweet, sweet freedom,” Penelope mumbled as she pushed her way through the hoards of people disembarking from their respective planes. She was so thoroughly disgusted with the level of incompetence she’d just suffered through at the hands of this airline, that the thought of actually getting back on a plane anytime soon turned her stomach. Spilt wine, thank the gods it was white, on her cheerful yellow frock. Possible broken toes and a disastrous rip in the purple leather of her lovely boots, from when said wine bottle was dropped on her foot, and a near concussion from a fellow passenger’s carry-on, which she was sure, must have been loaded down with something wholly inappropriate for an airplane flight. “First class, my ass.”


Worse still was Webster, call me ‘Tex’, something or other, sitting next to her, and for hours on end regaled her with his sexual prowess. Honestly, the man resembled a weasel in every way and expected her to believe he had to beat the ladies off…please. She’d tried to let him down nicely at first, but to no avail. Before they’d landed she’d put it to him straight with a no nonsense “shut the heck up” but still he continued. Once they were fully on the ground, she’d beat a hasty retreat and raced off the plane, but by the smell of his bathed in cologne he was not far behind.

“Pru’dance,” Weasel boy’s deliberate mispronunciation of her name, as he hollered at her from across the terminal, sent frizzles of anger and disgust up her spine. “Hey Pru’dance.”

“Oh buzzards breath,” Penelope moaned, as a group of tourists boxed her in. She needed a way out of this and quick. Note to self, sign up for those self-defense classes you keep meaning to take.

A streak of blue, a dark and gorgeous blue belonging to an equally, if not more gorgeous man, passed by her. He too appeared to be slowed by the tourists and families headed for the door, and thankfully so, because he had exactly what she needed—six foot something of obvious muscle and no lovely lady on his arm. With Weasel boy getting closer, she made a spur of the moment decision. She elbowed her way through the crush of people, grabbed a hold of his buttery, and oh gasp nearly orgasmic, leather coat; turned him around and threw herself into his arms.

“Hello Lover, you almost missed me,” She said loudly enough for Webster “Tex” weasel boy to hear before she laid upon this dazzling display of testosterone the sexiest kiss in her arsenal—tongue definitely included!

Rainbow Colored Woman and Meet The Cast

Nicolas Taggert McMahon(wolf) - Editor in chief of the Guts and Butts gazette, Alpha male and maybe one of the most hated men in Talbot's Peak, Montana. Yes, he's done some underhanded things, but they were all done for a damn good reason. Unfortunately, he can't talk about that reason, yet.


Zeva Wilk(wolf) - The only alpha female in her family pack has put her in charge of a flighty aunt, a bitter mother and a sex starved sister. She also serves drinks part-time at Dante's Interspieces Haven and is an unwilling edition to the Guts and Butts staff in charge of, can you believe it, personals. She'd at one time hoped to find a nice beta male to mate with and ease her load, but as luck would have it, her mate was all alpha, all asshat and did nothing but rile her up at every turn. He also seemed to have no idea they were mates. Great, add one more thing to her To Do list.

Prudence Penelope Jorgensson(parrot) - Administrative Assistant extraordinaire, the keeper of secrets and a flamboyant flirt looking for love in all the right places. But will her purple leather, thigh-high boots walk her into the man of her dreams or the man of her screams? Could they be one in the same?

~~~

“Purple, green, blue…” Prudence Penelope Jorgensson tossed different colored articles of clothing across her bed in search of the perfect outfit for tonight’s visit to Dante’s interspecies haven. She’d been trying to talk herself into taking this step for weeks. This night it was her specific intent to find a lover, or two. “…Yellow, yes yellow it is. A warm, welcoming yellow that will pull all the boys, and girls, over to me.”


As a half parrot, quarter peacock she loved to prance around and strut her bright and bodaciously colored self around, but the quarter human was lusting for love and looking in all the right places. Dante’s promised a wealth of possibilities from which she could choose.

The blue-green fringe along the bodice and bottom of her dress twirled as she turned in circles in front of her mirror. Large fan earrings, done in varying shades of purple were an exact match to her high-heeled, open-toed mules. Her peek-a-boo toes sported the same color yellow as her dress. She was a rainbow of flavor, ready to find a cat with great big teeth.

All the better to eat her with you know.

Yeah, that was a wolf thing, but really, she had enough wolves at work. She didn’t need them in bed too. No sooner had the thought crossed her mind, and her phone was ringing. She’d jinxed herself. Rule number one of an Administrative Assistant was, never think about or verbalize your work/boss on private time.

“Now’s not a good time, bossman,” she breathed into her cell.

“Don’t care, Penny,” Nick groused, bristling all of her unshifted feathers. “I need you on a plane to Alaska…tonight.”

“What!” Open-toed mules were not made for the wilds of Alaska! Montana was one thing, but Alaska, she shuddered to think of what she might have to outrun up there.

“Put the flight and expenses on the company card, including bail for that jackass, Danny. I’ve already called in and vouched for him…I just need you to go retrieve him.”

“Sorry, bossman, no can do. I’ve got plans…”

“Oh yes you can do, Penny, or don’t bother coming…”

“Do not threaten to fire me, Nick, or your fur will surely fly,” she huffed at the ridiculous threat. He’d never followed up on his threat to fire anyone accept his brother and anyone who really looked at the situation could tell it was to protect the mangy galoot. “And don’t call me Penny!”

“I’m sorry, Prudence.” The real Nickolas McMahon was sneaking through the guards she knew he held around him. “I can make it worth your while to go.”

“How?” This had better be good.

“Stay over at the nicest hotel up there; get a massage and a facial. Relax. And put the stay on the card. You can pick up Danny Boy the following morning and head back.”

Damn he knew how to entice. Dante’s would be here when she got back and who knows what she might find to play with in the wild—a bear maybe? Plus, she had the sweetest pair of purple leather, thigh-high boots she was dying to wear.

“Fine, offer accepted.” She used her best put out voice. It wouldn’t do to let on that she was excited. “Let me call the airlines.”

“You’re the best, Pen-elope.”

“Yes, I know.” She hung up on the smart assed wolf and called to reserve her tickets, first class of course. Yeah right, as if she’d endure coach all the way to Alaska.

White Fang Kent and Pasha ~ Dangerously Feral

Howls and Yowls of Holiday greetings, shapeshifter lovers, today I have two bio blurbs for you. And! The first meeting of White Fang and Pasha.

CAST OF CHARACTERS

White Fang Kent, Ace Crime Reporter

The Super Wolf, who keeps his identity a well-guarded secret, has arrived in Talbot’s Peak, Montana on a mission. The hideaway town has been taken over by a werewolf pack. Their out-of-the-den bravado endangers not only their lives, but the entire shapeshifter world on Earth. Determined to keep his own wolfkind safe and undiscovered, White Fang realizes he must stay to protect the town’s residents from the ruthless enemies they are clueless about. However, he soon discovers he’s stepped into a real life version of As the Werewolf World Turns.

Pasha ~ Catwoman Shifter

Z’Pasha, granddaughter of the Egyptian goddess, Bastet, lives for the day when she can sink her poisonous claws and fangs into the Tiger Yakuza. Two of their Ninja assassins shredded her human friend’s body so brutally, the murder wasn’t reported in the news. Having tracked the elusive assassins across the globe, Pasha believes she is about to corner and castrate the fiendish tigers in the backwoods of Montana. She just needs a bit of super dog assistance. And she knows how to get it. After all, seduction is second nature, and her feline kind knows every shapeshifter male’s weakness.
~~~~~~

White Fang Kent and Pasha ~ Dangerously Feral

White Fang had to wonder if the catwoman sultrily stalking him -- a woman who made his dream woman look like the gossip columnist, Maggie -- had been sent by unknown enemies.

Mind probing Pasha would likely be a mistake, even if he could manage to concentrate. He scented goddess blood.

Hidden beneath the natural, femme fatale perfume she exuded -- a fragrance that caused his cock to drip with the need to mate -- was the smell of a lightning storm. A certain sign the catwoman’s lineage went back to the antediluvian gods and goddesses.

White Fang ignored his gentleman’s instinct to rise, and seat her. Why give her a full-on visual of his cock’s fight to overcome the waistband of his pants?

She already knew her affect on him. Seduction was her weapon and he was the target.

“I am Pasha.” With feline grace she offered her hand -- long, slim and tawny gold, yet not fragile in appearance.

“White Fang.” He wrapped his hand entirely around hers simply to feel her, and to let her know he wasn’t without some manner of defense against her carnal claws -- against the slanted glimmer of her spectacular eyes. Jewel green, they were faceted by bronze and cerulean blue.

“May I?” She withdrew her hand, a caress that lingered as sharply as if she’d bitten him during their foreplay.

After a wave of his hand, she languidly arranged herself opposite him. She’d subtly exaggerated the ripe curve of her hips. Now she leaned forward slightly, her arms pressing against the sides of her breasts.

White Fang gave them both what they wanted. He ogled the beautiful generous bounty that was barely contained by her made-for-sex red dress. Somehow he managed to keep his tongue from lolling out in sheer appreciation.

Lykouz hell! He kept himself from leaping over the table and acting like a stud dog desperate for a hump against her haunches. Her lips turned upward, a slow smile of feline enticement. And, of course, cat satisfaction. With a courtesan’s finesse, she quivered her breasts.

“Flaunt and taunt. What do you want...Pasha? Is that your demigoddess name, or are you a full blood?”

She flinched, only seen by his super-powered eyesight. Still, he had to hand it her, and Lykouz knew, he wanted to handle her. Every lush and long curve of her. Every soft silken dip and valley of her.
.
Recovering her poise, she swept her dark gold lashes downward for a moment. “Z’Pasha,” she throatily purred. “For your ears only.”

“Only,” he repeated, and knew he sounded like a mesmerized fool. “What’s the story?”

A hint of confusion shone in her gaze. Like an even bigger fool, he felt a primal sense of victory over her. Really, though, he told himself, he was the stupid male who didn’t know he’d been caught in her clever trap. Yeah, so his cock jerked, wanting to be caught in her sweet hot trap.

For nearly a minute, they eyed each other, angling for blows in this unspoken battle for dominance.

“The story you want me to tell as a crime reporter. About the Tiger Yakuza.” White Fang forced himself to straighten before he made a move and licked a trail up her sex-kitten cleavage. “Pardon my lack of manners, Pasha. May I order you a drink? Perhaps you haven’t dined yet.”

“You are good.” The tip of her tongue traced her lips. “Very good, White Fang Kent.” With a sensual roll of her shoulders, she leaned back, lounging more comfortably. “I believe Dante’s wine cellar has a pomegranate wine made in the image of the wine crafted by my sacred ancestors.”

“Of course.” White Fang lifted a finger for service.

Their gazes never strayed from each other, and White Fang allowed himself the luxury of staring at her rosy, gold-dusted lips, enhanced only by a shiny gloss. More than kissable her mouth was made for every act of passion imaginable. He swallowed hard while his steely rod banged at his zipper.

Saved, temporarily, by the arrival of a waiter, the same beta werewolf who had served Dante, White Fang swivelled his gaze to him. “Marc,” he noticed the discreet name tag, “would you bring the lady a bottle of Pomegranate Nile? And another brew for me.”

With an elegant nod of his head, Marc pivoted from them.

“Raw delicious torment,” White Fang growled.

He didn’t bother sparing Pasha his thorough, hungry-as-a-wolf perusal of her. When his gaze settled on her voluptuously pointed nipples, she drew in loud rushing breaths. Her mating heat filled his nostrils, and neither one of them moved for a time that seemed to stretch into infinity.

“Before you make me more insane with desire, super wolf, I’ll give you what you came for.”

“And that is?”

“I’ll take you to my last sighting of the Tiger Yakuza assassins. You’ll get your story, ace crime reporter, just follow the trail.”

Her half-lidded gaze languorously studied his face, then moved over his chest. It felt as if she physically stroked him, and White Fang nearly groaned out loud.

“And, what do you get, Pasha?” he asked a long moment later. His tone was so hoarse, he wondered that the words could be understood.

With a deliberate toss of her hair, she shifted positions, and the curvaceous swells of her breasts beckoned him even more. “Revenge, of course.”

White Fang had never felt so dangerously feral when it came to the fair sex.
~~~~~~

~ HAPPY SHAPESHIFTING HOLIDAYS ~

Savanna

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

Shall We Count it Down?

Ten…

Yeah, that’s all it would take, ten minutes before his zesty little Zeva stormed in to give him hell about taking a date to Devon’s ball.

“Ten tops,” Nick snarked, making his way to his desk.

Nine…

He was still patting himself on the back for goading her into that bet over the game of pool. If she’d won, her prize would have been to use him to increase her alpha status among the pack. Damn, he could scarcely imagine what that task would have included. Quite possibly a dog collar around his throat and scrot and a long walk through the compound…yeah, like he’d ever let that happen.

Eight…

Nope. No submissiveness from him. Nick sank back in the supple leather desk chair and let his mind wander. Unless, of course, they were playing on his turf, which included the two of them locked behind, closed doors with him holding the only key. Yep, he could play her bitch as long as she repaid him in kind.

Seven…

Hell, maybe he wanted to put any kind of playing at the bottom of the “to do” list for a while. It wasn’t as if he didn’t have an extremely full plate right now, seriously, the last two times White Fang had stopped by his office, he’d been dangerously close to violating his own desk.

Six…

…with a dry hump here and a dry hump there, here a hump, there a hump everywhere a hump hump…Editor McMahon needed to get a life…eieio!

Five…

Where the hell was she? He was starting to get a bit loopy waiting. With everyone at the paper hating on him, the moments spent toying with Zeva, Nick considered refreshing and some of the most blindingly happy of his day. Some would consider him sick, he knew, but his actions were necessary for keeping his cover.

Four…

“Damn, stubborn woman…” Nick flicked the now broken pen into the trash just before the ink started to dribble out. Pain drilled into his temples even as his right eye throbbed. Here he was counting down the minutes, waiting on a woman…a stubborn, irritating, engaging, sexy as hell woman who had him tied up in knots. “Scat!” His time should be spent digging up the dirt on his employees and finding the mole.

Three…

“You say something, bossman?” Prudence Penelope Jorgensson, his administrative assistant and shifter of undetermined orgin, stuck her head inside his office. She had the ears of a bat this one, but was as quiet as a cat on the prowl. She was always at the ready for him when he needed her, before he’d needed her most of the time.

“Yeah, pull up my cell phone provider and get me Roxann’s number,” Nick barked, loud enough for most of the office to hear…especially the little hellion down the hall.

Two…

“Ya don’t gotta yell, boss man.”

Damn right he’d yell. Zeva needed to get her sweet ass in gear and schlep it into his office, riled up over his choice in date. No more desk disco for this alpha, tonight the only two people dancing would be he and his captivating Zeva.

“Penny!”

One…

“Geez, I’m right here with your number.”

Nick grabbed the post-it out of her hand and listened for the sound of heels tap tapping down the hall to stop his call.

“You know you’re lucky we’re alone in the office, boss man, or everyone would know how hard up for some action you are...”

“Yeah, yeah…what?” Alone in the office, what the hell? “Penny…”

His assistant turned back toward him at the door, displeasure alive and well across her face. “Stop calling me Penny, boss man. We’ve talked about this.”

“Bah, what did you just say?”

“Stop call…”

“No, before that.” The thing he had to have misunderstood.

“Oh, no one heard your demands for female companionship phone numbers?”

He was going to lose his mind in a matter of moments. He could feel it welling up inside. “Where is everyone?” Or, just Zeva. Where the hell was Zeva?

“At home, getting ready for the big bash.” The twinkle in Penny’s eye was disheartening. “Did you hear the good news? Zeva scored a last minute date with Dante.” Her sigh burned at his brain. “She’s such a lucky, bitch.”

Nick was shaking; a full body rattle that left him green-eyed and red-faced as he listened to Penny laugh all the way down the hall. So that’s how she wanted to play it, huh. Well fine by him.

As he rang up Miz Roxann, he made a mental note of the punishment he’d dole out to his naughty little Zeva. She’d be hard pressed to sit down for a week by the time he was through.