Surviving Halloween

Yep, it’s scary season again. Here are some general tips to get you through All Hallow’s Eve.

Never tell a vampire “Bite me.”

Spirits and poltergeists do not like having the theme song from “Casper the Friendly Ghost” sung to them.

Werewolves cannot be deterred by a rolled-up newspaper, unless the paper is rolled up around a lead pipe.

Ogres can be bought off with chocolate. But then, so can just about anybody.

The difference between an orc and a goblin: the orc can throw you farther.

Depowered shapechangers do not appreciate being called “shiftless.”

Jack-o-Lanterns like to get lit.

A black cat crossing your path means bad luck for you, unless you’re behind the wheel of a car at the time.

A buzzard circling overhead means good luck … for the buzzard.

Using a dragon to barbecue burgers is considered animal abuse and will bring down the wrath of PETA upon you. Using a dragon to barbecue obnoxious PETA adherents is perfectly acceptable.

Don’t worry about the monster under the bed. The dust bunnies will get it.

Pteranodons do not breathe fire. However, their farts can be deadly.

****

Got a bit of a lift from an unexpected source the other day. Friday’s episode of Supernatural had Dean turn into a vampire. Since I had “cast” Jensen Ackles as the vampire hero of my story, it was almost like seeing my character on screen. He even cleaned out a vampire nest, in a scene that mirrored a similar scene in my story. This is probably as close as I’ll ever get to seeing my stuff on TV. If Sam becomes a prostitute next week, my life will be complete.

Driving to Work Under A Full Moon

From my kitchen window, I can watch the moon rise on one side of the house and watch the sunset from the library/den window on the front of the house. Odd feeling happened this morning as I opened the garage door and headed out to the car. I looked out over the neighbor's house that sits diagonally across the street. The moon was descending in its orbit though at 5:55AM the sun is still not in the sky here on the east coast yet. The fullness of the moon and its closeness looked as though it sat waiting for someone or something to reach out and touch it. So bright and full, I hesitated for a moment waiting for the noise of the early morning to rush in. No quiet continued to greet me. Since I had to be in at 7 this morning, I drove in the dark. Not a big issue unless you look out over the battlefield and see the streams of moonlight illuminating various patches. And if your mind is like mine where story material comes from all kinds of places mine began to dance around an idea called Full Moon Delight. Read the flash piece below and enjoy!

Smiles.
Solara

____________________________________________________________________

Patches of frost crested the few tufts of uncut grass sticking out across the field. Crystalline beauty danced as flickers of car headlights flashed across them and faded as they passed. Noise rushed by and silence regained its upper hand.

James waited in the shadows, watching and yearning. Would she come again? Sit and listen to his lonely howl, smiling as though she understood him. Her odor graced his palate with each breath, making him wonder why her. What made her different?

He couldn't deny the taste of her rolling over his tongue and deep into his throat urged his need to claim his mate. What mate? A mortal? Human frailty marked her as forbidden. One passionate session of sex----humans didn't understand the sheer pleasure in sex for its own heady release and finding one's own level of satisfaction. Once, twice, perhaps all night long to fall asleep in each other's arms sated, to awaken again and repeat with great vigor. None since his last wolf mate could keep up with his need, human or wolf.

Blast the curse that kept him from fulfilling his longing. There had to be one woman who could accept him and love him for himself. He didn’t need more than one. Though two or three wouldn’t be bad either. He wasn’t greedy, just lustful and down right horny. Oh, yes and male. Very thoroughly male.

A car door slamming and footsteps broke silence’s hold on the night. Had she arrived?

James sat on his haunches sniffing the air, turning his head back and forth. Nothing. Cold air fogged in front of him as he exhaled. Shifting closer to the trunk of the large oak, he lowered his body tight to the ground. Lifting his head slightly, he peered toward the edge of the field closest to the highway.

A lone figure leaned against the parked car. The height and build matched hers. He’d never gotten a clear view of her. His luck this was another person looking for a full moon thrill. If his gonads and cock weren’t demanding satisfaction, he’d give whoever it was a thrill. Chase their ass across the field a couple of times or around their car. That usually got the thrill seekers out of his woods.

Edging to the outer perimeter of his shadow cover, he raised his head higher. Inhaling deeply, he paused. Wonderful aromas and tantalizing tastes clamored over his tongue and blasted down his throat. It was her!

The Dragon's Lair, again...

Lix Tetrax was tired of being summoned, willy-nilly, to harm her sweet Mother Earth. She was tired of being unable to utter her true name, but instead having to go by the demon name bestowed on her by Nathanael in a fit of vengeance. All because she’d refused to bare him a child.


“Like I would ever agree to create a life and then give it over to evil.”

Until six months ago, Lix had never believed in demon curses. She’d spent her life spreading goodness and light, loving life and helping others connect to the earth. Now, due to the curse, she could no longer connect without harming her Mother. She could also be called forth by demons and humans alike to commit horrible acts upon the earth. It disgusted her and with the sheer numbers of humans using her summoning name lately, she was sure Nathanael was giving it out like flyer's in mailboxes.

“I had no choice to go to Gusion for answers,” she said to herself, bolstering her courage as she stood before the dragon’s lair. “He was the only demon who could tell me how to break a demon’s curse.” She only wished it hadn’t meant obtaining a dragon scale.

~~~
Halloween's  coming up soon and we here at Shapeshifters have a special guest for ya'll.  Ashlyn Chase will be with us blogging about  Book Recommendations from a Real, Live, Witch and she'll be hosting a contest for her new release.  Yay!  Stop on by.
~~~
Have a great weekend!

A Challenging Courtship

Hi and welcom to your Wednesday fix of Shapeshifter Seductions! This week I have been busy getting my home ready for winter by pulling a/c window units out, putting storm windows in and winterizing the garden. Soon it will be time for snow!

I did not write an actual blog (forgot) so I'm going to post a little something I already had on hand. This is a condensed spinet from a short story I submitted to a call for submissions that didn't make the cut. But I love it, so I'm going to share it here.

**********

Pearlie knew she was different the day she smelled her mother and thought, she smells like a human. What it meant, exactly, Pearlie didn’t know, or at least tried very hard to pretend she didn’t know. She’d always had an affinity for red meat though her hippy mother had raised her vegan. Wild, lonely places called to her soul though she’d been raised in an artist commune in Nederland, Colorado, which isn‘t all that remote despite being on the edge of several national parks. This new scent was different, too- exciting and just a little bit scary.

To be more precise, the scent itself wasn’t scary, but her reaction to it was. Most people smell a really good cologne and think, “That smells nice. I think I‘d like to get to know that person better.” Pearlie smelled a cologne and wondered why people would pay money to smell like rubbing alcohol and chemicals. This scent, though, didn’t smell like cologne or human or even food. Her brain kept saying mate!

She first encountered it at the farmer’s market. The scent had drifted to her on a waft of breeze, tantalizing her like the smell of fresh baking bread. Before she realized what she was doing, Pearlie found herself wandering the stalls, trying to follow it. Had it been something as benign as bread, that instinctive tracking wouldn’t have worried her. Bread was for eating and only made her hungry. This tantalizing aroma made her gut clench with need. It made her body thrum and whisper mate!

She left the market immediately and drove the seventeen miles back to Boulder to do her shopping, never mind that she‘d made this trip specifically to go to that farmer‘s market.

The next time Pearlie caught the scent, she was at the library on campus doing research for her college thesis on prehistoric apes. It was an odd subject for a vegan hippy who loved meat but refused to eat it. Something about it called to her, though, much like meat and wild, lonely places called to her. Much like the mystery scent called to her.

She left the library immediately and went home. She could do her research on-line just as easily.

As the days stretch into weeks, Pearlie caught the scent more and more at places she tended to frequent. She had a sneaking suspicion that whoever the luscious scent belonged to was tracking her by her scent. She was a little embarrassed, though not surprised. Since first catching the mystery scent, she’d noticed that her own scent had changed, just a little, like her body was calling to the mystery male who’d entered her territory.

She was also embarrassed to realize that she no longer needed to actually catch the scent to become aroused. Her concerted efforts to avoid it meant awareness of the male was always in the back of her mind. Simply seeing two people kissing was enough to bring him to the forefront, which ushered in a surge of longing for the mystery male. After watching an episode of her favorite day time drama, Pearlie caught herself actually heading out to the market- where she’d noticed his scent was strongest- to try and catch a whiff again.

Now Pearlie wasn’t watching TV, either.

**********

Max had been passing through a little mountain hamlet several weeks ago when he first caught her scent. Young. Female. Single. That in itself was enough to catch his interest, so he’d called his clan told them he’d be late returning.

That casual interest had ramped up sharply, though, when he caught her scent the next day after leaving his scent all over town. He’d expected her to come find him, if only to confront another in her territory. Not only had she not confronted him, she’d run from him. And she’d been interested. Max was confused. There were so few of their kind left that the chance for a mate wasn’t something to be missed.

Max stopped suddenly as a thought hit him. She didn’t know what she was. Was she a hybrid who’d been made in the heat of passion then abandoned by a father who didn‘t know he‘d breed a human? He nodded to himself. That made sense. She must not know what the mating heat was, that her body had responded to him because they were genetically compatible. To a young female who’d been raised to think she was human, it would be a frightening experience. How best to woo her, then?

**********

Her nose told her that the mystery male had found where she lived. She was tempted to avoid going home, but decided enough was enough. She’d quit going to the library, the market, and even the movies. She couldn’t even watch her soaps, for crying out loud- enough was enough!

Her indignation lasted until she saw the dead- thing- on her doorstep. Pearlie glanced around nervously then edged a bit closer. Yep, it was a dead raccoon and it was cover with his scent. Why on earth had he left a dead animal on her doorstep? She wrinkled her nose, pretending it was disgust making her stomach knot and not desire to eat it.

**********

Max stared is stunned surprise as he watched her dump his offering in the trash with a shovel so she wouldn’t have to touch it. His brother had managed to win his mate with food offerings- it was proof the male would be a good provider. Maybe she didn’t like that kind of food?

**********

Oh, gross! Pearlie thought in disgust, trying to wipe her foot off in the grass. Who left a pile of rotten fruit on her doorstep? Oh. The male. What on Earth had he done that for? Was this some bizarre courting ritual for his people?

**********

Max watch dejectedly as his female wiped her foot off in the grass while muttering “ew, ew, ew.” She was so beautiful to him- smaller and curvier than most of his kind but with the same dark hair and skin most of them had. He wanted her so badly he could taste it but he had a feeling he was screwing things up. This courtship thing was harder than it looked. He pulled out his cell phone and dialed his sister-in-law. Maybe she could help him figure out what he was doing wrong.

**********

“I don’t want to get out of bed,” Pearlie muttered to herself. After the last two times she’d left the house, she was afraid to see what her would-be suitor had left on her doorstep this morning. She sighed and drug herself out of bed. Better to find it herself than have one of her neighbors find it and call the police. She threw on her ratty old bathrobe and trudged to the door, opening it just a crack. His scent slipped through to wrap around her senses. She pretended it was annoyance that made her close her eyes and breath deeply and not her guilty desire to smell him better. She opened the door all the way and looked. Then blinked. Then smiled. Starbucks was good- much better than dead things.
She looked around carefully to see if he was still there then scooped up her booty and shut the door.

**********

Max smile in delight from his hiding place high in a tree across the street from her den. Mara’s advise had seemed odd at first. What female would prefer baked goods and scalded, milky bean juice over fresh meat caught in their honor? But Mara’s advice seemed to be working, so he figured his sister-in-law knew what she was doing.

**********

That's about it for this week. Have great and wonderful rest of the week!

Rebecca
RebeccaLGillan.com

Blue Jay Wars and Dragon Hopping

Greetings, Shapeshifter lovers, the blue jays in my neck of the woods are at war over territory, if their loud squabbles are any indication. With Autumn flying by faster than a witch on a jet-powered broomstick, it is wise to prepare your winter accommodations.

Of course, the ghoulish and mystical world of Halloween is heavy as fog around me right now. There are online spooktacular celebrations galore for the authors and readers of paranormal romance. Witches, Ghosts, Vampires, Angels, Demons, Gods and Goddesses, Fairies and those of the fae realm, Demon/Vamp Hunters, Werewolves, and, of course, Shapeshifters in every breed and stripe, are making their appearances.

My apologies to any and every being I’ve left out. From what I’ve observed a popular pairing is a witch and a shapeshifter. Yep, that is a natural and ‘familiar’ mating straight from heaven or hell.

Okay, then... I had no idea I’d be writing this. But, here it is, I’m hopping on the Dragon Bandwagon with my freshly written contribution. Be kind, please. It’s not magic-clever like Pat Cunningham’s Dragon Scales. Nor, is it sassitude-clever like Solara’s Dragon. Nor, is it imaginative-erotic like Serena Shay’s The Dragon’s Lair.
~~~

Ruby Fire

Dusk claimed the sky as if silver droplets infused the air. Zrykur commanded the color from his scales, and knew he all but disappeared. Even the super-tech crowd ensconced in their underground compounds couldn’t detect his presence. Dragons were rarely captured and dissected, given their scales redirected beams, from microwave to laser.

Still, as he descended and cruised at about a thousand feet, he imitated a small plane, locking his leathery wings. Cranky as when he lost an aerial competition, a rare occurrence, Zrykur mentally roared. Hell’s blood, if he didn’t feel banished from his world.

Despite his rogue tendencies, he’d never been labeled an outcast. However, before he could depart, Earth had been declared a quarantined planet by the Galactic High Council. No matter that had been 48,592 years ago.

Snorting to lessen his anger, Zrykur flamed a pocket of pollutants in his path. Oh, yeah, baby, that was his mission these days. Sail the skies and use his fire to scorch a path through the gargantuan clouds of putrid slimy chemicals.

A dragon did have to breathe, great amounts of air usually. For his sake, for his brethren dragons, and for the Earth Mother, Zrykur dissipated as much of Beelzebub’s crap as he could stomach. And stomach said it, since he was often grounded atop the nearest mountain by the nausea that slithered like a serpent through his belly.

Riding the prevailing wind, Zrykur glared at the distant town’s sprinkling of lights. If he didn’t want to dry up and blow away, scale by large scale, he had to find a human woman, shift to a man for the night, and engage in carnal relations.

No problem for him, and always erotically enjoyable. Several vigorous rounds of coupling were always preferable, the juicier and hotter the better. The woman’s essence, body and spirit, infused him with what he required to continue living.

The problem, he wanted no attachment that would prevent him from returning to Vaskarlia. And human women could be so delightfully alluring. He always risked taking one as his mate.

Hell’s black cold hearth, that’s how he’d ended up on Earth in the first place.

During the antediluvian time, an appetite for lust had been considered sacred, and beneficial for the land’s fertility. As a youthful dragon shapeshifter, the nights of revelry with beautiful insatiable women who had run from him just to be chased and caught, had proven to be a temptation he couldn’t resist. Then.

Now, he wanted to survive until he discovered a way leave Earth. Slowing his speed to near floating, Zrykur flapped his wings twice, the rush of sound and wind merged with the rising stormwinds. Swiftly, he neared the bar and restaurant district, only upscale because Yuppie’s escaping California had flooded the eastern Oregon town.

Scenting a sexually ripe woman who was alone, Zrykur halted his tail from slashing the evening air in anticipation of being with her. He told his cock to deflate as he folded his wings, and slowly dived toward the large parking lot she approached.

The woman’s scream ripped apart the atmosphere. Streamlining his body, Zrykur flared his eyes searching for her. Using them like giant spotlights he located her on the edge of the lot, a woman with ruby fire hair.

What Zrykur witnessed next boiled his blood and blazed him to fury. A man seized the woman from behind, trapping her against his body. She struggled valiantly to escape, but the brute of a man dragged her toward a pickup truck.

“Stephen, let go! You fucking bastard. I’m not going anywhere with you.”

She started to scream again and the man clamped a hand over her mouth. Wild with rage and fear, the woman twisted while trying to bite his hand. Even though her arms remained captured, she fought to pummel him with her fists.

Zrykur launched himself directly in the man’s line of sight, reddening his eyes. That always frightened humans out of their skin.

“What the fuck...” Speechless now, Stephen stopped dead in his tracks.

Whipping around, the woman beat on his chest taking advantage of his looser hold.

“Let go, you shithead. I hate you. I’ll always hate you!”

Zrykur spread his wings. Stephen’s eyes bulged, threatening to come out of their sockets. His hold slackened and the woman broke free. She backed up so fast, she nearly lost her footing. Recovering, she spun around and ran.

Zrykur felt his blood run cold, and not thinking twice, he flamed the man. Sizzling nicely, as only a human could, Stephen went up in smoke.

“Omygawd.”

Zrykur heard the woman’s shocked horrified voice as he began his transformation. Hovering above an adequate roof, he completed the change and dropped down on his bare feet.

“Omygawd,” she chanted several times. “I never believed in... what is that, that...term? Omygawd, he’s a pile of ash.”

Grabbing the heavy duty bag that had been hanging around his neck, Zrykur pulled out jeans, a leather jacket, motorcycle boots and a black t-shirt. He threw his clothes on and jerked on his boots, knowing he had to get to the woman as fast as possible.

“Oh, god, human combustion. Spontaneous human combustion. I never believed... omygawd. He’s a... he’s a pile ash. Just ash. Oh, god..”

Leaping, Zrykur landed in the alleyway that led to the parking lot. With his senses on high alert, he jogged toward the woman. Once he sighted her, immobile and pointing, one hand over her mouth, he slowed to a fast walk.

Relieved that no one else was around, he approached keeping his stride casual. “Is something wrong, miss?”

She glanced at him, her eyes wide luminous pools. Seconds later, her eyes rolled back, her knees buckled, and she fainted. Zrykur caught her easily, and slung her across his shoulders, all in one motion.

Yet, not before he’d seen the sheer loveliness of her face. And not before his gaze had traveled over her nymph-luscious curves.

“My own damsel in distress.”

Briefly touching her mind, Zrykur headed for her car. He didn’t plan on telling her he had flamed her ex-boyfriend. Or, that he was a dragon shifter from a world far, far away. He didn’t plan on telling her what she didn’t know about herself.

No, not until she couldn’t live without him.
~~~~~~

~ HAPPY HALLOWEEN SHAPESHIFTING ~

Savanna Kougar

~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance ~

Hopping on the Bandwagon

The theme of the month appears to be Dragon Scales, so I’m adding my take to the pile. Enjoy.
****
The hairs along Kendra’s forearms prickled when the man stalked into her shop, and not just because he was the most attractive male she’d seen in a long time. That strong, angular face had a scowl on it, which tainted its handsomeness. Normally she didn’t go in for the shaved-head look, but she found the flame tattoos that decorated his skull intriguing. Her disquiet stemmed from the way he walked. It took her a moment to put her finger on it. He moved the way a cobra would if it had legs. The way the Serpent would have moved through Eden, before God consigned him to his belly. And he was headed straight for the counter.

She took a deep breath and made sure her silver spell knife lay within easy reach. Her confidence in its properties waned the nearer he came to the counter. Close up, he stank of raw magic and a power far beyond her own. What he was doing in a small-time magic shop she didn’t even want to guess. Handsome or not, Kendra decided it would be in her best interests to get rid of him as quickly as possible.

She fixed a bright smile to her face. “Help you?”

He glared straight into her eyes. The impact nearly reduced her to ash on the spot. “Dragon scales. I need dragon scales.”

Goody, a nut job. A potentially dangerous nut job. “Sorry, fresh out. Have you tried Hauptmann’s over on 8th?”

“I just came from there,” he growled. “He sent me here. Don’t play games with me. I know the kinds of wares you really carry.” He leaned across the counter. “I want dragon scales. Now.”

He was even scarier up in her face. His eyes weren’t the brown she’d assumed they were. They were maroon. That deep rumble he called a voice sounded like he was dragging it out of a pit. And –

And he had smoke wisping out of his nostrils.

“Sweet Selene,” she blurted. “You’re a dragon.”

His lips twisted into something that faintly resembled a smile. “Not at the moment, as I’m sure you can tell. I need dragon scales to change back. Tell me you have some.”

“Don’t you have any of your own? I know what your kind is like. You’re hoarders. You never throw anything out.”

“Of course I have scales in my lair. Unfortunately, I’ve been ejected from my lair by the sorcerer who did this to me. I need my true form back to fight him. For that I need dragon scales. Not wyvern, like Hauptmann tried to sell me. Dragon.” He leaned in even closer, and smiled. The heat of his breath hit her face like a Saharan wind. “You’re going to help me, aren’t you?”

“I – I don’t carry things like that.” In the distance she caught the wail of a siren. “I’m only a low-level witch. You’ll have to try somewhere else.”

“There is nowhere else, and there is no one else. You’re my last hope.” The siren grew louder. The dragon’s smile grew broader. “Fire engine,” he pronounced. “Probably Hauptmann’s store. It was burning quite vigorously when I left.”

*****
As I was working out Dragon Man's physical description, the image of Vin Diesel popped into my head. Wouldn't he make one badass dragon? Damn, I wish I could figure out how to upload pictures.