Showing posts with label Halloween Blog Hop. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Halloween Blog Hop. Show all posts

Sunday, October 26, 2014

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
 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


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


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


"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~ 


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

~~~ Enter the Rafflecopter for a chance to win the hop-wide grand prize. ~~~

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Tuesday, October 14, 2014

Nothing scarier to a man...



Mid-October howls and yowls, shapeshifter lovers.

Finally, after many interruptions the second flash scene is written in my short series of flashes leading up to the Halloween Blog Hop ~ October 27-31. For the setup, and to read the first one, click on the title Time to unmask my inner cat... 

~~~~~~

Nothing scarier to a man...

Drawn toward a baby doll costume that was sheer, dove gray in color yet glistened with silvery thread, Sherilyn moved toward it. She fingered the delicate ruffling, trimmed in muted gold.

The feline headdress reminded her of a refined pantheress. Sherilyn lightly stroked the short silky faux fur, a pale silver-gray, and gazed at the fantasy cat's peridot-colored eyes. "Nothing scarier to a man than a woman he finds fabulously sexy."

"Ah... so true," Pasha stepped beside her. "Often a man's libido combats the idea of being captured by the woman he desires as no other."

Sherilyn smiled, recalling her past experiences as a photo pinup model. "You must be like fire, Pasha. The men want to touch, burn themselves in your sexual flames... but are scared of being totally consumed."

"When my power of seduction is... let's say, switched off, men will either leap into the inferno, heedless of being 'totally consumed' or run as if I've suddenly shifted and am the beast cat about to devour them whole."

Sherilyn couldn't help quirking a grin as she faced Pasha. "Did you see a 'barely there' costume to your liking?"

"So many are to my liking. But I believe White Fang must have secretly paid for one he hopes I will wear."

"Oooh, show me," Sherilyn enthused, girly-tingly inside.

"Why don't we simply enjoy the sexy lingerie scenery first, and chat." Pasha offered her arm as if they were best girlfriends.

With their arms linked, she and Pasha strolled, and Sherilyn sizzled deliciously, drinking in the costume zoo featuring sensual felines of every type, spot, glorious color, and stripe. White and orange tigresses, and one that was a soft gray with cobalt blue stripes... seductive leopardesses and jaguars with their beautiful spots... sensual lionesses in varying shades of golden caramel to creamy white to the lavender lioness she'd first spied. Black cats representing several different breeds from panther to the superheroine, catwoman, to the typical Halloween black kitty were available... and so much more feline finery that Sherilyn felt dazzled down to her toes.

"I hope Dante, or whoever is in charge, has catalogued all these fabtastic creations,"  she spoke as they halted beside the table of delicate, pastel colored petit fours.

"I believe so." Pasha nibbled on one, obviously relishing. "However, only on the internal computer system. The pattern maker as White Fang called it." 

"On the open human market these would sell like hotcakes, as Zance is fond of saying. Meow," Sherilyn affected while rolling her hips. "I can't wait to see my Dontoya and Zance in their beast 'barely there' costumes."

"White Fang has been merciless in his teasing of me -- whenever I try to tempt him into revealing the costume he had designed for himself." Pasha laughed in a rolling purr. "I'm not allowed access to his mind either. He is so delightfully wicked at times."

In companionable silence, she and Pasha enjoyed the tiny cake treats, then sipped the fruity cordials. Soon "the question" surfaced like a circling shark. Why trepidation hit over her Ubarion heritage, Sherilyn had to wonder. But dammit, she was just plain spooked.

Still, opportunity kicked her in the shins. "If this is a good time, could you tell me about the Ubarions?" Sherilyn swallowed, not surprised a crow bar seemed to be stuck in her throat.

"Yes," Pasha drawled in a purr, "Your star ancestry. If you will allow, and give me a moment to enter your mind, I will be able to be more specific."

"Sure," Sherilyn agreed, while panic coiled in her belly.

Pasha flashed a small understanding smile. "I promise I'll be gentle," she bantered.

Sherilyn shut her eye having no clue if that was needed. But she was operating on instinct at the moment.

"Done," Pasha announced, a hint of amusement in her tone. "Let's talk while I show you White Fang's idea of an erotic costume." 

"Oooh, I can't resist that invitation. Will he know you know?" Sherilyn asked, super glad for the distraction.

"No doubt he's already purchased it, but wants to know if I'll choose his design. I haven't decided if I will... or I won't."

"Understood," Sherilyn replied, tickled by Pasha's seductive yet contrary tone.

"You know many of your Ubarion powers, or have seen glimpses," Pasha began, linking their arms again. "Why don't I tell you some of their herstory? The Ubarions evolved from a cat creature on a mostly jungle planet. The closest feline kin on Earth would be the Wildcats of Africa. However, the species resembled the gray fantasy cat you were first drawn to, and were elegant in body like the Siamese cat."

"Fascinating," Sherilyn murmured, attempting to connect with her ancestral memories. "They were never shapeshifters, right?"

"No. However, a race of cat-human shapeshifters discovered the planet and kept them as pets. Then the Ubarions were gene-spliced with this race, and became a servant class. In most cases, they were treated in a loving manner, and when their sentience evolved to a certain point -- I believe a matter of two generations -- your ancestors were treated as children, and educated in the knowledge and ways of this race."

Vibrating inside, the way she did when chords of truth were struck, Sherilyn asked, "When you say sentience, do you mean a human type of awareness?"

"Excellent question since all creatures great and small, as they say, possess sentience. Let us say, an expanded awareness of the cosmos that would include the building or constructing of an environment."

"Empire building. For good or ill," Sherilyn mused.

"Yes, the sacred urge can be used to build love-based empires where creativity reigns. Or... "

"What is happening on Earth right now." Sherilyn spoke what Pasha left unsaid, even as the cat goddess paused in her steps.

Sherilyn followed Pasha's gaze, seeing the very skimpy, nail-polish red costume. "Ohmy! Omy effing stars."

TO BE CONTINUED...
~~~~~~


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

Savanna 

Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance

Sunday, October 27, 2013

ShapeShifter Seductions ~ Snarkology Paranormal Blog Hop




Welcome! Shapeshifter and Paranormal Lovers. For your Halloween pleasure we authors at ShapeShifter Seductions have written flash scenes.

To win our prizes leave a comment with your email addy. 

~~~~~~ 

Pop, Fizzle. . .Oh a rabid were what?!

Josh looked at the contents of the small bowl closest to him.  Two large packages sat across from them.  Tory’s carefully-printed labels showed who each bowl was intended for.  The packages contained sweets for the town’s children who came by trick-or-treating.  Popular candy, confections, and small items filled Halloween decorated goodie bags to bulging.  Sally and her husband were busy decorating the back room for the town’s progressive party.  Families and youth would crowd Main Street working their way from one business to the next, spending several moments eating, drinking, playing games, and gathering goodie bags to take along with them.

Josh spun the small bowl to get a better view of Tory’s label.  The label read in bold capital letters: FOR ADULTS ONLY.  Josh lifted the bowl, smelled, and sniffed again.  Strawberries and sugar teased his nose and set his mouth to watering.  He loved the red berry.   Memories of the triad’s last jaunt south to their California holdings flashed over him.  In particular their stop at two roadside stands selling fresh fruit and vegetables.  They gorged themselves on local produce for the next two weeks.  On their way back, Josh bought two pounds of strawberries and an industrial-sized bottle of chocolate syrup.  Three days later, hives and a half-morphed wolf became fierce enemies.   Ten days of allergy shots and oatmeal baths didn’t add to one’s dignity. 


 

Josh held the bowl away from him as far as his arms would allow.  He set the bowl back on the bar and shoved it further away.  A soft feminine laugh sounded behind him.  Josh turned, catching Tory smiling and laughing.

“I thought you knew better than to get near strawberries,” she teased, slipping her arms around his waist.

Josh snuggled Tory to him.  He kissed the top of her head before answering.  “Yes,” he offered.  “I don’t know who laughed harder: Anthony, every time I came home shaved more, or Doc Wilson, hosing me down to get the oatmeal out of my pelt to treat the hives.”

Tory’s giggles reached him as she reached up to pat his cheek.  “Anthony got his turn when he tangled with the blackberry bushes and the beehive.”

Josh tossed back his head laughing.  “God, I didn’t know he could cuss in four languages besides wolf.”

Tory’s hand clapped over her mouth as she started laughing harder.  She fanned herself with her other hand.  As she caught her breath she spoke.  “I’m glad I didn’t ask him to translate.”

Josh held Tory while they both laughed. 




Meanwhile in the back room, Sally and her husband paused in their decorating, listening to the group of teens helping them.

“Come on, Matt.  What’s so bad about going as our Myers-Briggs animal persona?”  Nathan stood six-foot and towered over the two male teens helping him.  Nathan’s kangaroo persona matched him.  His native panther shape shifter form prevailed during most full moons.

Deke, the basketball team’s star center, faced Matt.  “Look, if I can go dressed as a rooster for the night, why can’t you be a. . .”

Matt dropped the orange and black crepe paper streamer he held, tossing both hands in the air.  “It’s bad enough we’ve got to dress up, but come on, as. . .”  Matt looked down, glanced over his shoulder, and back around the room.  “A bloody damn octopus! “

Sally nudged her husband hard at his first snicker.  She shushed at him and shook her head.   She whispered as she leaned closer, “Remember what your male pride was like then.”  Her husband nodded and winked.

The teens continued their discussion on what costumes Matt might choose.  As they exited, one thing became clear: Matt refused to name his choice. 



 

Three nights later, groups of people filled the street, human and shape shifter alike.  Couples walked arm in arm.  Children held out their bags calling out, “Trick-or-Treat!”   A quarter moon filled the sky, peeking out from behind clouds that swept through the night sky.  Tory, dressed as Little Bo-Peep complete with shepherd’s staff and a stuffed lamb under her arm, greeted patrons as they passed the bar’s open door.  Inside, Anthony wore a black Fedora hat, black pinstripe pants and shirt with a red vest.   His partially transformed face displayed his wolf side.  His name tag read ‘Wolf in Charge.’  He guided visitors through the bar and into the dining area.  Josh wore a bartender’s outfit from the Twenties complete with a side holster holding a water pistol revolver.  His semi-morphed Husky dog state complemented Anthony and Tory’s costumes.

In the back room, Sally in her witch’s outfit, accompanied by her husband, dressed as a broom, chaperoned the partying teens.  Several asked about Matt.  Even Deke and Nathan couldn’t tell if he was present.  Bette, Matt’s girlfriend, strolled around the room with her dog.  The golden retriever followed her patiently, taking her commands, and doing tricks for treats here and there. 

“Food and game time,” Sally called out.  “Everyone take a seat.”

Bette slipped tidbits under the table as she ate.  Deke and Nathan offered items too.  The dog lapped them up and came back for more as he made his rounds.  In the middle of the table sat a bowl filled with candy.  Several packages of Pop Rocks Candy filled the bowl.  Deke nudged Nathan.  Nathan nodded.  As the retriever made another pass under the table, each held down their hand.  Moments passed as the dog licked their hands filled with more treats again.   When Bette pulled her hand back up full of meat, she leaned down looking under the table.

She stood up and pushed away from the table, crying out.  “Matt, you didn’t tell me you were rabid!”

A yellow streak burst out from under the table, rising up on two legs running as fast as he could.  Fur flew as he morphed.  Foam and froth hung on both lips.  Matt grabbed the first glass he came to as he bolted into the bar.  Beer foam mixed with the candy foam added to his bubbling.  Naked, foam pouring out of his mouth, and cussing, Matt raced out the door into the street.  Bette, Deke, and Nathan followed fast on his heels.

The next morning, Tory set her coffee cup down on the bar as she paged through the paper.  She clapped her hand over her mouth to stifle her mirth.  The society page headline read, “Rabid Were-Retriever Sighted.”  Pictures of Matt, Bette, Nathan, and Deke streaking down Main Street followed.

Posted by Solara Gordon


~~~~~~


CROSS-DRESSING

Vernon McMahon stuck his head out the bedroom door. “You about ready, son? We’re running late as it—oh, my blessed Lupa.”

All innocence, Nick rolled puppy eyes and said blandly, “What?”

“Like being turned into a horse wasn’t enough for you. First thing you do back in human form is … this.”

“I don’t see anything wrong with my costume. The theme for the Halloween party is Opposite Day, right?”

Nick stood defiantly before his father, a wolf in sheep’s clothing … or, in this case, the rattiest, tattiest, sheepskin he’d been able to find. He’d topped it off with a mask with a goofy, dumb-as-a-sheep expression, and a pair of curving ram’s horns that were clearly plastic. He’d hung a clunky bell around his neck for good measure. Like the costume by itself wasn’t going to annoy every herbivore in Talbot’s Peak.

“I’d get out of that right now, if I were you,” Vern warned.

“Or what? Your wife’ll butt me, like her hair-trigger daughter? I thought she was grown up enough to take a joke.”

“It’s not my wife I’m worried about. We’ve reached the age where we can take just about any stupid thing you kids dream up. It’s him you have to watch out for.” He nodded toward the kitchen.

Standing in the doorway was the biggest, bulkiest, scariest wolf Nick had ever seen. He blinked, and the “wolf” came into focus. It wasn’t a wolf; it was Elly’s son Hannibal in a wolfskin. He had on an ill-fitting jacket and tie over the tattered gray pelt. A sticker reading “Press” rode the lapel of the jacket. He carried a ruler in his front pocket, just to make sure everybody got the point.

Hannibal flashed a  vicious grin that would have done any wolf proud. “A sheep. How fitting."

Nick snarled right back. “You really think you can pass as a wolf?”

“I’m not trying to be a wolf. I’m trying to be you.” He pulled out the ruler and waved it around. “Tell me, Nicky, did I get it right?”

“You’re going to get it, all right.”

Nick charged. Hannibal ran to meet him. The two reluctant stepbrothers crashed together like furious Olympian gods. The universe shook—the universe, in this case, being Vern and Elly’s living room. Months of pent-up hostility vented itself in thrown punches, harsh cursing, lots of snapping on Nick’s part and a lot of kicking on Han’s. Vernon threw up his hands and retreated into the bedroom.

The plastic horns, Nick quickly learned, weren’t good for butting. They weren’t good for much of anything other than slipping off the back of his skull. His fists weren’t doing much good either. Hannibal was built like a tank. What the hell did he eat for breakfast, concrete?

Just the same, Nick managed to get in a few good licks before the inevitable outcome, which was Nick pinned to the floor with what felt like a ton of bighorn sheep on top of him. Both their costumes had been reduced to tatters. Han had blood on his chin and a cut on one arm and several bruises where Nick had battered him with the ruler. Both were panting heavily. “How about it, wolf?” Han said. “Give up?”

“Bite me.”

“This doesn’t change a thing. My ma’s still married to your dad. Just because I can’t stand the situation doesn’t mean—”

“What? My dad’s not good enough for your mom, is that what you’re trying to say?”

“If the fleece fits, wolfie.”

“Listen here, you racist grazer—”

Vernon peered around the bedroom door. “You boys got it all worked out yet?”

Both of them smiled up at him. “Sure, dad,” Nick said. “Han here was just apologizing for being such a jerk.”

Vern noted their relative positions and grunted. “I’m sure he was. Listen, Elly and I are off to the party. I guess you two won’t be going, seeing as how you’ve wrecked your costumes.”

Hannibal shrugged. “It was worth it.”

“I’m sure.” Vern stepped into the living room and held out his hand. “Are you ready, m’dear?”

“Good to go.” Elly trotted into the room and twirled, showing off her high school letter sweater and poodle skirt to full effect. Only then did Nick realize his dad had on a leather jacket and chinos, and had styled his silver hair into a classic DA. “What the hell are you two supposed to be?” he demanded.

“Us?” Vernon said. “It’s an opposite party, right? So we’re going as teenagers. These duds were really hep back in the day. Just the thing for cruising.”

“And wrestling in the back seats of Chevys.” Elly giggled. “Wanna take a ride up to Makeout Point after the dance, big boy?”

“Drive the Chevy to the levy till my levy runs dry,” Vern misquoted, and nuzzled her neck. Elly’s giggle ran up the scale.

The mental image alone was enough to make Nick taste bile in his mouth. “Dad!” While Han bleated, “Maaaaaaa!”

“Oh, stop it, boys. It’s just a bit of fun. We’ll be back whenever. Don’t wait up.” Vern escorted his date/wife out the door.

Hannibal made a choking sound. “It must be Halloween,” he said, “because I’m scared scatless. You?”

“Yeah.” Wolf and bighorn looked at each other. “There’s nothing we can do to break them up, is there?”

“Nope. My ma’s been hard-headed from day one. Your dad must be tough enough to take it, so … ” He held out his hand. “Truce?”

“I guess.” Nick took the offered hand and let Hannibal pull him to his feet. He pretended not to notice how easily the big sheep handled his weight. “Wanna go to Rattigan’s, have a couple beers?”

“Yeah, sure.” Han looked down ruefully at his tattered wolfskin. “Maybe we should change.”

“Why bother? We can go as predator and prey. Outcome undetermined.”

Han grinned. “Y’know, you’re okay, for a meat eater.”

“Don’t push your luck. The night’s still young.”

Posted by Pat C.

~~~~~~

OPEN MOUTH, INSERT HOOF...

“We will not be going, fair one.”

“You promised me a date tonight, Erol.” Greely called from his bedroom.

He’d promised her this current day date weeks ago as a way to escape her feminine fury.  He still did not understand her upset at his suggestion.  Was it not reasonable that she go to the communal tent or cave for the remaining days of her courses as the human women did in the past?  Perhaps his mistake was that she was shifter rather than human.  Did shifters go elsewhere during their…

“EROL!  You promised…” she stepped into the living room looking like a large purple dinosaur with tiny, ineffective wings.  “…remember.”

“That was before my magnificence was changed to this beast form.  EeAhh.  Damn it!”

“Erol, stop with the self-obsession!  You make it worse by constantly touting your awesomeness.”

“It is not a self-obsession, woman, I am awesome. EeA.”  Erol slammed his mouth closed, swallowing the end of the obnoxious donkey call. “Why are you dressed like a deranged dinosaur?”

Apprehension skittered up his spine when his mates jaw dropped, followed quickly by the thinning of her eyes.   What had he said now?  Keeping on this woman’s good side was harder than dodging a magic user’s spoken curse, as was witnessed by his current monstrous state.

“How-how dare you!  I’m a Lady Dragon.  YOUR Lady Dragon, though why I bother I will never know.”

“But you’re dressed as a dino…”

“DON’T SAY IT!”  She stomped her overlarge foot, shaking her clearly T-Rex tail.

“…saur.”

“UGHHHHH. It’s a costume you, mule-brain!”

“Also, my Lady Dragon would have large glorious wings in which to fly through the sky with and wrap around me, EeAhh, as we loved one another, EeAhh, in a sexual plummet from the heavens.” 
Erol flapped his wings once and moved them inward to display the appropriate curve. Only then did he note her turned back and the jingle of keys as she headed toward the door.  “Fair one, where do you go?”

“Screw you, you ASS!  I’m going to Dante’s costume party where I just might find a real dragon, or better yet, a donkey to be a Lady Dragon for.”

Erol saw red as she opened the door, preparing to leave.  Fire rushed from his puny donkey nostrils burning like a lava bath taken above the water.  “YOU WILL NOT LEAVE, WOMAN! EeeAhh.  I FORBID IT! EeeeeAhhh.”

His lungs constricted as his once streamlined horse body was transformed into the pudgy girth of a donkey.  “Bugger!  What has been done to me now?  EeeeeAhhhhhh.”

“Self-obsession and general all around buggery.  I tried to warn you, Erol, but you don’t listen.”

“EeeeAhh!”

“Ha! A month free from listening to you go on about your dragon-y awesomeness.  A blessing, for sure.”

Erol wondered if he’d once and for all ruined things with his mate or if he could somehow turn this around in the next few minutes.

“Happy Halloween, Jackass!”

Or perhaps days….

Posted by Serena Shay 

~~~~~~


Park Monitor from Hell! ~ By Rebecca L. Gillan


 Tom blinked as yet another pair of kids ran screaming from the park. He’d just passed a pair of them a moment ago and a had seen a few other couples who’d thought the city park would be a great place to do a little post party trick-or-treating. He supposed it was normal teen behavior but this was a town of mixed shifters and humans. They couldn’t have kids going furry next to the teeter-totter. In fact, the city council employed an old-fashioned park monitor to run the kids off. Manscape Mike didn’t usually make them literally run away, though. He’d better check it out.
Poor Manscape, getting stuck with a moniker like that, Tom thought as he nosed his cruiser into a parking space. He’d been playing in boxes behind the furniture store in his cougar form a while back and had needed to go human to get himself out of one he’d been shut in by a nervous dock worker. Unfortunately, there’d been witnesses to the fact. Those witnesses and shared, in detail, the whole thing including the fact that Mike kept himself groomed bare down there. It hadn’t taken long for the ladies to dub him “Manscape Mike,” and the guy still hadn’t managed to ditch the nickname. 
Tom shut his cruiser off and pocketed the keys before stepping out with his giant Maglite—didn’t want anyone to get the idea that swiping an unattended cop car would e fun—and headed into the park. He hadn’t gone far when yet another screaming pair barreled past him.
“Oh god, Office Tom! Run! Run for your life!”
He loosened his service weapon and flicked the giant flashlight on and watched over his shoulder to make sure the kids made it to the sidewalk before heading in the direction they’d come running from. He didn’t have far to go, though, to see what had them running like hell.
“Mike?” he asked incredulously. The question was not needed. Before him set none other than Manscape Mike wearing a Viking costume and riding a huge draft horse with some unusual armor. As he watched, the stern-faced Viking lost his hard look and grinned.
“Hey Tom! Like my Halloween costume?”

~~~~~~


The Betrayed Witch and the Lone Ranger 
by Savanna Kougar 

Shazelle bent at the waist carefully rolling on the black silk stocking -- actually the sheer black pantyhose she'd purchased when shopping at a specialty costume shop in Talbot's Peak. As she adjusted them for comfort, more unbidden tears slid down her cheeks. She reached for yet another tissue, dabbing away the wetness.

Shazelle pressed a cold cloth to her face. Gypsy Red Wolf, her good friend and belly dance instructor, had brought the bowl of water infused with lavender and rose essential oils, after she'd walked Shazelle to her room at the Pleasure Club -- the seduction-splendid room that was supposed to be her All Hallow's Eve honeymoon suite.

With the scents soothing her, Shazelle sighed, then finished dressing in her 'opposites attract' costume. She was determined to cast off her depression -- throw caution to the Autumn winds -- and enjoy herself at the club's Grand Halloween Affair.

Instead of an 'opposites' costume, though, she'd decided on the brief, naughty horse costume. It had been an act of defiance.

Oh, crap-hit-the-fan yeah, she'd been completely fooled by her fiance's loving manner toward her. That is, until they stood before the altar on the day of their almost-marriage and he'd suddenly shapeshifted into a horse.

Blinking rapidly to prevent more stinging tears, Shazelle gazed at her reflection in the superb, three-way mirror. Not bad, she admitted, heartened by how the costume enhanced her appearance. If she did say so herself, her curvaceous yet warrioress-strong figure looked damn good in the tight skimpy costume -- especially her plumped-up cleavage.

Shazelle also admired how the velvet corset's rich chestnut color complimented her tanned golden skin. Reaching back, she shook out the costume's long, lush horse tail, crumpled from being packed.

On impulse, Shazelle gave her butt a good sassy shake so her filly tail flowed nice and straight. "Ready for my stallion." she whispered, drily teasing herself.

Except for the shimmery strands, the tail's cinnamon-red color was a close match to her hair. Earlier, the clever stylist at the Pleasure Club's beauty salon had designed her long tresses so they resembled a horse's rippling mane.

Shazelle stroked her palm over one of her attached equine ears. They were darn real looking.

"No," she moaned, shuddering visibly. Once again, the devastating scene blazed before her mind's eye.

She'd been about to say her marriage vows when Tony, the Bengal Tiger shapeshifter she'd fallen in love with -- yeah, his nickname -- had uttered a strangled snarl.

Disbelieving, astonished, Shazelle had watched Tony stiffen like a corpse before busting out of his wedding suit. Her memory of the ripping fabric still exploded inside her ears, and she wondered how long she'd be haunted by it.

Then, stunned to her core, Shazelle had seen Tony rapidly morph into a striped horse...well, mostly horse but with the characteristics of a tiger -- as she vividly recalled.

Wheeling around, her fiance, now Tony the Tiger Horse, had galloped down the aisle. Actually since their ceremony had been an outdoor affair, he'd raced between their seated guests disappearing into the Autumn-gorgeous forest.

Only later, after hours of inconsolable weeping, had Shazelle learned about Marissa's witchly spell. At that instant, her psychic powers switched on, and she'd heard the very words Marissa voiced: "Fine. Here's a spell for you. Let all horse's asses look like horses!"

Her intuition ignited like a roaring bonfire then. And with her anger about to go super explosive, Shazelle spoke her own power words. Immediately images of Tony seducing several women played in her mind like a bad movie.

So! That's why the effing *turned into a horse's ass* bastard had encouraged her to keep her witch-force locked away. Not because he cared about the toll it took on her health at times, but...

Shazelle caught sight of her reflection, the formidable scowl contorting her face. No, she hadn't cursed Tony the Turd Tiger Horse. She'd concluded he wasn't worth her time or effort.

Besides, no one in the Peak had seen hide nor equine-tiger hair of him since. Not to her knowledge, anyway.

Spinning around on her black satin high heels -- quite the balancing act -- Shazelle moved toward the lovely vanity to apply her makeup.  "Giddyup," she whispered, her wrath on the rise.

Truth before the Goddess, though, Marissa's angry spell had saved her from a terrible mistake. For that she felt great gratitude.

Still, love couldn't be switched on and off like a water faucet. Her starry-eyed hopes and dreams as Tony's wife had to die a natural death. Shazelle well knew the healing of her heart would take time.

In the meantime, she planned on sipping the old-fashioned honey mead Dante  promised to serve the witches he and Gypsy Red Wolf had summoned to the Peak -- given the hidden persecution of witches had begun again.

Shazelle also planned on slowly, very slowly becoming inebriated. She desperately wanted to banish the tormenting mental images of her disastrous wedding day. Most of all, she wanted to temporarily forget the betrayal of her horse's ass, about-to-be-husband.

****

"Crazy as a herd of rutting studs," Drifter commented beneath his breath, then savored the fiery smooth taste of his apple-flavored whiskey. Recently arrived on Earth from his equine-shifter dominated world, he stood apart from the weirdly costumed crowd. For now.

His distant relative, Trail -- a longtime operative now living permanently on Earth with his human mate, Seneca -- had clued him in about what to expect at the Pleasure Club's Halloween celebration.

Drifter, aka Drifxonn on his homeworld, gave the Earthers credit for their unique, imaginative displays. Not easily amused, he found himself appreciating the amusement offered by many of the guests, who apparently dressed as each other.

With his inner flanks tickled, he scanned for the feline shapeshifters wearing wolf regalia while their mates pretended to be cat breeds of every type -- if his thorough research of the planet's predator species was correct.

After tossing back a swallow of his whiskey, Drifter mentally hoof-stomped down the lust relentlessly coursing through him. The scantily decorated women were a temptation he needed to resist. For now.

Continuing to observe from the eye slits of his Lone Ranger mask, Drifter focused on the energy patterns of the partying shifters and supernaturals -- plus the relatively few humans. The knowledge would serve him well in the future. His people wished to explore an alliance with Dante, the alpha werewolf, who owned the Pleasure Club, and the massive underground complex.

What captured his attention most forcefully was the deep purple energy-light tinting the atmosphere of the club -- a large-roaming area. Drifter not only witnessed the evidence that told him a significant number of witches were present, as they were known on Earth -- but he also scented their earth-fire-wind-water essences.

His whiskey glass empty, and feeling at ease, Drifter sauntered toward the grazing area -- several long tables laden with fanciful Halloween dishes and treats. In mid stride he halted as desire kicked him hard in the head.

The witch costumed as a cute little filly might as well have sidled up to him, twitched her tail invitingly, then galloped away so he could give proper chase. His inner stallion bugled wildly. Then his cock jumped its holster.

Drifter gripped the butt of his replica Colt pistol, while forcing his feet to stay rooted to the highly polished floor. Figuring he looked like the Lone Ranger caught in mid-action, he stared as she chatted with two couples.

He'd met White Fang, given the super wolf knew about the portal between his world and Earth, confronting him several days after his arrival. Now White Fang sported an Egyptian cat goddess costume while his lover wore a comic book version of a superhero wolf. No woman-loving man could miss how much the blue tights revealed her shapely legs.

If Drifter hadn't been thunderstruck by his witch filly, and hankerin' to meet her face-to-face, he might have busted out with laughter. Dante, the alpha wolf king, had costumed himself from head to toe as a fluffy white cat -- complete with an outrageously long bushy tail. Kitty, his mate, had turned herself into a sexy biker wolf girl.

Sensing his unrelenting stare, the little witch spun slowly placing her attention on him. Drifter didn't hesitate. He leapt into action, tossing his empty glass to the nearest waiter, then striding toward her. Used to herds, he shouldered his way through the thickest group without a problem.

"Well, howdy," she drawled, imitating an Old West accent. "I've always wanted to meet the Lone Ranger...up close and personal."

Drifter saw past her smile. Sadness, grief surrounded his filly witch like a swarm of pesky flies. "At your service ma'am," he drawled in return, then tipped his white hat briefly. "How about I escort you this evening?" Drifter offered his arm, and hoped like hell she would take it.

"Why I just can't resist such a gentlemanly offer." She spoke in a teasing voice, then wrapped her small arm around his.

Drifter lit up like a full Earth moon inside. "What's your pleasure, ma'am? Should we hit the feeding trough? Do some kickin' up of our heels on the dance floor? Or would you like another drink?" he asked, since she held a nearly empty glass.

"My pleasure right now, Mr. Lone Ranger, is hearing you say my name. I'm Shazelle."

She lightly squeezed his arm, and Drifter gazed down into sapphire-colored eyes that shimmered like pools of starlight.

"Shazelle," he obliged. Damn certain he wanted to be saying her sweet-sounding name often. "Should I reveal my name? Or do you want to live the masked fantasy?"

She grinned, a real smile shining in her eyes. "Hi-Yo, Silver, away...tell me your name Mr. Horse Shapeshifter. You are real, right? And not under Marissa's spell..." His little witch hesitated an instant, pain clouding her gaze. "Right?"

"Real," he assured, turning to face her while keeping her arm tucked against him. "The only spell I'm under is yours, beautiful witch."

"Then you know I'm not a horse shapeshifter... that this is just a --"

"A costume," he finished for her. "You make one fine filly, I don't mind sayin'."

Shazelle did a little shimmy for him, pleased with his words. "You're a white stallion, aren't you? ... That's why you came as the Lone Ranger."

Her soft voice sang through Drifter, a pleasure he hadn't known for a long while now.

"I am a white stallion shifter, Shazelle. My handle is Drifter." At the look of knowing on her lovely face, he continued. "It's short for my real name."

"Don't say it." She spoke in a hushed voice. "I know you don't want your otherworld identity known."

"I don't." He tugged her closer so their thighs touched.

"Tell you what, Drifter. I'm starving. Why don't we eat first? Then I'd love to dance in those big brawny arms of yours... then," she gave him a slow sassy grin, "I might just want a long, long ride... before you gallop off into the sunset."

"Chow first." Drifter gently brought her against his side moving them toward the food tables. He'd already decided he wasn't galloping off into any sunset without her, his little filly witch. 


~~~~~~ 

 Have a Magickal Season of the Witch...  

Savanna  

Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance

* * * * *

***For more information about our books, please check the sidebar and our pages above.***

~~~~~~

Thanks for joining us! Don't forget to enter the raffle-copter for a chance to win the grand prize, a $60 Amazon.com gift card. And don't forget to leave us a comment to enter our blog give-a-way, a selection of back list books from us ShapeShifter Seductions authors!


a Rafflecopter giveaway

 ~~~~~~



Tuesday, October 16, 2012

Cometh The Bewitching Blog Hop


Tuesday howls and yowls, shapeshifter lovers!

Treat yourself to a bewitching array of fun, flashes, eye candy, and PRIZES! The HOP begins on Friday, the 19th. And, if you refuse this invitation... well, there just might be a werewolf tracking you down... and once he finds you, he just might persuade with a few nips to your tail end.

~~~~~

Okay, then, no flash scene today. The muse is saving her creative energies for the blog hop. However, here's the latest, *close to the end of the story* Chapter of my WIP. It's a transition scene with no sex, and no violence... but, you may enjoy it anyway.

Please, just remember it's UNEDITED and rough around the edges.

~~~~~~

From the Kougar’s Writing Den ~

Her Midnight Stardust Cowboys

'Unedited' Chapter Seventy ~

"Victoria, a pleasure to see you here. Happy New Year."

Dontoya stood as the slender attractive woman approached his table. She carried herself with a bit more confidence than when he'd last seen her, and that pleased him.

Several months before he and Zance spotted Sherilyn, Victoria had caught his eye for a short while. However, he'd soon realized after an in-depth conversation they had too little in common.

"Happy New Year, Dontoya." Victoria smiled in that shy but endearing way of hers. "I hear you're happily mated now. Congratulations."

"I am. Thank you, Victoria." Since she appeared nervous, slightly wringing her hands, Dontoya figured she wanted to talk with him, beyond the usual pleasantries. "Have a seat, and we'll catch up. Or am I keeping you from dancing in Anthony's arms?"

"No, no you're not." She lowered herself gracefully, if a somewhat stilted. "Anthony is...is talking with Nick about the newspaper business. All that good ole wolf boy bantering they do is too much for this gal."

 Dontoya seated himself watching Victoria shake herself, as if casting off negative vibes.

"Understood." Dontoya gave her a grin. "May I pour you some champagne, Victoria?"

"Kind of you to offer. No, thank you. I'm bubbly clear up to here." She swept her hand to the top of her head, and smiled, a giddy expression on her face. "My Anthony never skimps when it comes to the luxuries of life."

"Are you two staying in Talbot's Peak? Or is Alaska still home?" Dontoya offered the plate of biscotti the waiter had brought with their coffee.

Victoria selected one, and took a dainty bite. "This is just a visit. The grand opening of the Midnight Stardust, and a stay at the Pleasure Club...it was simply too irresistible."

"Dante is a magician when it comes to building his underground empire. I've never witnessed its like in all of my long lifetime."

"Speaking of underground empires." Victoria twisted restlessly, and took a large obviously nervous bite of the biscotti.

Every hackle Dontoya owned as cougar, stood on end, like he'd been struck by lightning. His inner tail twitched. "Something you'd like to share?"

 After swallowing, Victoria drew in a big rush of breath, then squared her shoulders. She looked him straight in the eye. "Ever hear of the buried black pyramid...located near Mount McKinley?"

Warnings he'd heard from other shamans, since his youth, swamped Dontoya.  In the next instant, a tsunami as his own 'knowing' seized him. "It's been activated."

"About to be activated. If what I overheard is correct."

Dontoya calmed the ocean of turmoil inside him. "Start at the beginning. Can you do that, Victoria?"

"It's short and sweet, really." She paused, and dragged in a sustaining breath. "I was working the late shift...classy establishment for the late night crowd...anyway, I was serving these two men at the bar. They were, were good looking enough in that yuppy-wealth sort of way.

"But, their eyes were odd, slanted differently. I don't mean like someone who is Asian. So, because of that, I paid more attention to what they were discussing. And they were deep into it. Turned out to be about this strange enormous pyramid."
 
Victoria shuddered delicately, and Dontoya observed the memories in the depths of her eyes. "Go on," he gently encouraged. "I'm listening."

She nodded, visibly bracing herself. "I couldn't believe it when they said this pyramid structure was underground near Nome, Alaska. But," Victoria squirmed, restless.

Dontoya automatically placed his hand over hers, and she continued. "They said it would be a beacon to another race...once inhabiting Earth...when they let it gain full power again. Can you believe that?"

Images of that other race, as they were depicted on the ancient scrolls of his people, flashed before his mind's eye. Dontoya figured the men she'd overheard were hybrids, human and R'sarryun.

"The universe is teeming with life," he purred soothingly. "What else did you hear?"

"That it has something, something to do with the increased activity of the sun."

"The pyramid is on a galactic timer. Or, to explain it this way, it's been tuned to the celestial events of 2012."

"Do you mean the whole Mayan calendar thing?" Victoria's eyes widened, reminding Dontoya of an owlet.

He curved one corner of his mouth, grinning. "A collision of cycles. The end of an age. And the possible return of those who are the progenitors of the star nations."

"Possible?"

"Nothing is written in stone, except where it is written," Dontoya joked, wanting to put her at ease.

"Like the Earth events recorded in the Giza pyramid?"

Dontoya nodded, recalling all that he'd been taught. "Yeah, like that. Several ages ago, one of the black pyramid's purposes was to serve as a power station for some of the craft that are labeled UFOs, in these times."

"I knew you would know." Turning her hand beneath his, Victoria took hold, and squeezed. "There wasn't...wasn't anyone else I could talk to...about this." Her gaze suddenly brightened with curiosity. "Star nations?"
   
"The sacred wisdom once guiding civilizations like early Atlantis. A time when the people lived in harmony with the Earth, in celestial harmony of the universe."

"A beautiful thought," Victoria wistfully sang. She withdrew her hand. "May I stay in touch?"

"Of course." Dontoya sat back, steadily gazing at the wolf shifter who eyed him with yellow-eyed suspicion.

Dontoya suppressed his urge to belt out a huge laugh. Instead, he drawled, "Happy New Year, Anthony."

"Happy New Year." Anthony moved to stand behind Victoria, placing a possessive hand on her shoulder. "Seems as though I thoughtlessly ran off my Tory. My only excuse, Nick and I have newspaper ink flowing through our veins, instead of blood. Although," the dominant wolf offered a semblance of a smile, "we're turning into relics in this digital age."

"Me and Zance appreciate the downright convenience of the internet, but we believe print is more valuable than ever. We're savin' every copy of the G&B Gazette. Another savage solar storm hits, like the 1859 Carrington Event, and we'll be ahead of the game."

"Dante's designed the Pleasure Club like a super Faraday cage."

"Yeah, we've hardened the ranch's electronics against both an EMP or a CME."

"You mean electro-magnetic pulse and coronal mass ejection," Victoria quietly added. "We've been preparing too."

"Tonight is for celebrating." Anthony reached for her hand and twirled Victoria from her chair, then offered his arm.

After their parting words, Dontoya mentally filed away what he'd learned about the black pyramid. Nothing could be accomplished at this point in time.

Desiring nothing more than to be with his Sherilyn, he rose moving to a position where he could more easily view her and Zance. They spoke with Sergei and Gypsy. Talbot's Peak's own fortuneteller was gorgeous in a scarlet gown that flowed like water over her curves.

Mind-hearing Zance telepathically reach out to him, Dontoya stilled. Moments later, he closed his eyes, and entered his shadow-walking state.

Sensing for Tod's presence, Dontoya searched the supperclub. While he could feel the vibration of his light body, Dontoya couldn't pinpoint the precise location of Sherilyn's long lost brother.  

~~~~~~

Wishing you shapeshifting love on the wild side…

Savanna

Savanna Kougar  ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance ~

~~~~~~