The Heavenly Chocolate & Ice Creamery

Tuesday howls and yowls, shapeshifter lovers.

Wherever you are, I hope you are staying cool enough in this blistering summer heat. Given rain is very much needed in my area and across the Midwest... well, my heroine in this flash scene decides to summon the local rain god.
~~~~~~

The Heavenly Chocolate & Ice Creamery

It wasn't impressive, and certainly not 31 flavors, but the Heavenly Chocolate & Ice Creamery -- tucked between two larger brick buildings on a corner in Talbot's Peak, Montana -- was all hers. Kalindi dipped out generous scoops of the vanilla ice cream she'd handmade for tomorrow's opening of her very own ice cream parlor.

Her spirits high, she spun around adding the thick dark chocolate syrup made from the best organic ingredients she could get her little half angel hands on. Oh, yes, Seraphim Watchers -- Kalindi rolled her eyes heavenward for a moment, then added huge spoonfuls of the scrumptious malted milk powder -- yes, she'd followed the celestial rules, relying only on good earthly suppliers instead of her ethereal powers.

Thanks to Dante... well, the handsome werewolf did owe her a favor or two when it came to being with his beloved Kitty... still, thanks to Dante and his cadre of friends at the Pleasure Club, Kalindi had been put in contact with those already in business or wanting a way earn a living.

It certainly didn't matter to her if bovine shapeshifters provided their milk and cream, given while in cow form. Especially since the divine taste caused Kalindi to smile ecstatically.

Even now, her invisible wings flapped happily as she poured in the fresh whole milk, then placed the stainless steel container on the mixer. One trick to a perfect chocolate malt was how well it was blended, yet not over blended.

Okay, so she'd added a few ephemeral vibes to her ice cream, meant to enhance the flavors and improve health. The Watchers didn't need to know she cared about helping the kidlets and shifter-supernatural population beyond simply keeping an angelic eye on them, and instantly reporting whenever they needed a 'miracle' intervention.

Kalindi enjoyed every last moment as she slowly poured the thick chocolate malt into a soda fountain glass. Not in the mood for whipped cream with a cherry on top, this time, Kalindi plucked up one of the heavy duty straws, and tore the paper off.

She plunged the straw in the chocolatey, creamy mixture, then moved around the pristine marble counter. Once she'd ensconced herself on one of the high chrome stools, Kalindi wiggled her butt making herself more comfortable atop the thick cushiony seat.

Before indulging in her first sip, Kalindi glanced around her place, admiring the simple lavender and white decor. She'd included an open booth area for families and a more intimate area toward the back for teenagers and lovers.

After a long draw on her straw, she savored rolling the cold, thick chocolate malt around her tongue. She so hoped many in Talbot's Peak would come to love her dream-come-true ice cream parlor as much as she already loved it. If her glimpse into the future held true, there would be devoted customers.

Kalindi blamed her ice cream obsession on her other half. Her mother was a minor Norse goddess, and also a direct descendent of Kamadhenu, a Hindu bovine goddess. Very much in love, her parents lived high in the Alps, where her mother kept a large herd of dairy cows, breeds from all over the world, and ancient breeds thought to have vanished.

"You summoned, my ice queen?"

Kalindi spun around on her stool, nearly knocking off the malt glass. She grabbed hold of it as her gaze locked onto the imposing, hunk o'rama stature of Zhuvius. He hadn't bothered wearing anything but a white linen sarong slung low on his lean, definitely kissable hips.

"Notice I did not say ice cream queen." His eyes, reflecting the current color of the sky, glittered wickedly.

"Yeah, greetings, oh great rain god." Years of practice had given Kalindi the ability to answer in a slightly sarcastic, could-care-less tone.

Quickly recovering her poise, she watched him saunter ever closer. His careless grace tempted her tongue to hit the newly polished floor in sheer appreciation. But why let His High Arrogance know that?

"My little ice angel, is that any way to plead for a day-long soaking rain?"

Zhuvius powerfully glided to the stool beside her. Instead of deigning to seat himself, he tossed his dark bronze hair, then indolently leaned one elbow on the counter facing her.

Ignoring the terrible itch to run her fingers through his shiny waving locks... ignoring everything carnally delicious about his muscle-bound arms and chest... and trying not to inhale his erotic, new-rain potent scent that made most women insatiable, Kalindi gave him a disinterested glare.

"I was planning to bribe you with your favorite flavor of ice cream."

"Why not simply appeal to my compassionate nature when it comes to the creatures of Mother Earth?"

He arched a dark brow, and Kalindi purposefully avoided his mesmerizing and compelling gaze -- the one she managed to escape so far.

"If compassion ruled your heart, rain showers would have drenched Talbot's Peak and the surrounding lands by now."

"You know better than most there is an established sacred order. Not to be violated unless there is a prayerful demand by the people, thus allowing for another outcome."

Zhuvius dipped one long finger into her glass, swirled his fingertip, then languidly withdrew it. With obvious sensual enjoyment, he tasted the remnants of her chocolate malt.

"Good excuse, blue god boy." Kalindi let her gaze caress the blue-tinted, caramel-colored skin covering his perfectly sculpted biceps. "I'll make you a malt if you agree to do your god thing. Make it rain. You know, a steady pitter-patter, that wonderful ozone smell... merrily singing frogs. Blissfully growing crops and vegetation."

"Ice cream made by your angelic hand is a temptation I have great difficulty refusing, my Kalindi. The intoxication is always extreme ecstasy."

"Coffee ice cream," she sang in a lilt. "I made it with you in mind."

When he didn't respond immediately, she stiffened her spine, then her jaw against what she knew was coming. 'Coming' not being the best choice of words.

"Melting my ice queen beneath me, with the strength of my passion.." He paused and her heart hammered against her breastbone. "It is only your surrender that will cause rain showers here before they are due, and thereby altering the tapestry of life."

Kalindi swallowed hard and stared at her reflection in the large chrome mixer. She knew when the rainstorms would let the thirsty land drink again. Not for two more weeks.

If she appealed to the Seraphim Council for an intervention that would be as useless as watching her nails dry whenever she polished them. Zhuvius, being the local rain god, owned the final say. As well he knew, the blue god bastard with... well, how blue were his balls? She'd wondered that for a long time now.

"Sapphire blue," he whispered, having leaned close to her ear.

"Stop reading my mind. I didn't give you permission. That little trick should cost you, rain god."

"Kalindi." His voice was dark, steamy as the coffee he favored. "There will be rain tonight, a brief shower as my penance."

Wings over clouds! What good was it being part angel? She only owned one choice. That is, if she wanted to stop the developing drought conditions.

"What is your unholy bargain, Zhuvius?"

"For every day you desire rain, my ice queen beauty, you will be at the mercy of my desires each night."

Kalindi decided she needed a typhoon to cure the sudden dryness of her throat. "Yes," she finally croaked out like a frog who needed water.
~~~~~~

Wishing you shapeshifting love on the wild side...

Savanna

Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance ~

~~~~~~

A Stinky Situation

“Mr. Harding,” the middle-school secretary said, “your two o’clock is here.”

Alan glanced at the clock on his desk and grimaced. Right on time. Naturally. Their kind was known for deadly, pinpoint accuracy. He got up from his chair and hastily scraped his unruly hair out of his face. He didn’t care for these parent-principal conferences, or the incidents that necessitated them, at the best of times. Most shifter breeds he could deal with. But this case, and this parent … Alan caught himself sniffing the air. Was that a hint of “fragrance” wafting in from the hall?

Stop it. You’re imagining things. They don’t do that in public any more. At least the adults don’t. At least they’re not supposed to. Just take shallow breaths through your mouth. And try not to think of her as “their kind.” It’s supposed to be all’s fair in here.

“Send her in,” he told the secretary, and took as deep a breath as he could hold.

Surprise made the captive air whoosh out of his lungs. She didn’t look, or smell, at all like the stereotypes had led him to expect. The right makeup and different clothes and she could probably pass for a high schooler, college age at the outside. Not that he had any complaints about her attire. That dress clung to her curves like a tick to a coon hound, and brother, did she have her share of curves.

And that hair. “Striking” fit the bill quite nicely. It fell past her shoulders in a billowy cloud, and of the same cottony color, except for the jet-black streak down the middle. Alan slammed his jaw shut before his tongue could roll out.

Bite it all, she smelled fantastic. Something light and flowery. Had to be perfume. No way that could be her natural scent.

He waved at the chairs in front of his desk. “Won’t you have a seat, Mrs. Odor?”

“O’Dell.”

Oh scat. Stuck his foot in it right off the bat. She didn’t seem to hold it against him. She even smiled a little as she strolled up to his desk and parked those intoxicating curves on one of the chairs. Alan dropped onto his own chair so hard it squealed. Yeah. Flying start.

“I take it this has something to do with Ronald’s behavior,” she said.

“Um, yes. There was another incident, this time in the gym.”

She sighed. It did incredible things to that dress-hugged bosom. “How many were there?”

“Seven. Three got it right in the face. They’ll be all right, but it’ll be days before we get the smell out of the bleachers. There goes basketball practice.”

“I hope you don’t intend to punish Ronald for defending himself.”

“Not at all, Mrs. O’Dell. We—”

“It’s Ms. O’Dell. There is no Mr. O’Dell. Why don’t you just call me Aurora?”

Aurora. Bite it. He wanted to call her a dozen dirty things and follow up with hot panting action. Male dogs didn’t come into heat, did they? Alan cleared his throat. “We’re very serious about our anti-bullying programs. The pack who cornered Spritzer has been punished. That’s in addition to the, well—”

She nodded, understanding.

“The school understands Spritzer’s actions. We encourage the students to stand up for themselves, especially against wolves. It’s pretty much all a wolf responds to. It’s how he defended himself that’s the problem. As I mentioned, the gym is pretty much unusable for a week at least. If Spritzer can’t control his natural impulses in a social situation—excuse me.” Alan stumbled over the words in a kind of low-grade horror. “I mean Ronald.”

Aurora smiled. “It’s all right, Mr. Harding. Ronald doesn’t much care for his given name. Even I call him Spritzer.” Her smile vanished. “My concern is what you expect me, and him, to do if the bullying continues. He was surrounded by seven young wolves. How else was he supposed to react?”

“I don’t think we need to worry about any further incidents. Nobody’s going to mess with him after this. He’s kind of a hero, in fact. That’s another possible problem. I don’t want your son to become a bully in turn.”

“I’ll take care of that,” she said firmly. “What else?”

“Well, we’ve got him scrubbing the bleachers. He’s experimenting with different cleaners. We’ve turned it into a science project. We’d like to stress that he follow school protocol in dealing with these incidents. Run, make noise, tell a teacher. Actions less … smelly.”

“That won’t be easy, at his age. He has a talent and he likes to show off.”

“His … talent … is part of the reason he gets bullied in the first place. I’m sorry, but there’s no delicate way to phrase this. Your people have a reputation.”

“I’m well aware of that, Mr. Harding.”

“Alan. Look, Aroma, we’re concerned—”

“Aurora.”

Scat. Scat scat scat with a cherry on top. What shade must his face be by now? Beet or tomato?

“You’re not going to sue the school, are you?” he blurted.

Thank the Good Shepherd, she laughed. “Of course not. When you trap young predators with their prey in a building for seven hours a day, it’s a wonder these things don’t happen more often. As long as it doesn’t happen again.”

“That’s the whole idea behind our education system. Socialize carnivores and herbivores early to minimize, um, adult accidents. Nobody said it was easy. I don’t suppose … ”

Her eyes flashed. “I’m not homeschooling Ronald, Mr. Harding. I can’t afford to. The other students will just have to deal with him.”

“That’s not what I was going to suggest. Every year we hold a Diversity Day for the freshman classes. Parents talk to the kids about what it means to be a shifter of their species. It’s supposed to promote empathy and understanding. Mostly it ends up being a warning to the predators about picking on ‘weaker’ species. If you’ve ever seen a wolf kicked in the package by a jackrabbit, you know what I mean.” Alan shifted uncomfortably. “I don’t believe we’ve ever had a skunk”—there, he’d said it—“at one of the talks. Would you be interested?”

“If it will help Ronald, absolutely.” She had the cutest dimples when she smiled. “Will the teachers be in attendance? That might help too. I’ve noticed even adults can become uncomfortable around … ” The dimples deepened. “Our kind.”

“Reputations are powerful things, whether deserved or not.”

“That’s too true, sad to say. When do you want me?”

How about right now? Let me clear off my desk. Alan swallowed hard. Skunks must have two types of smells, because her current one was driving him crazy, in all sorts of wonderful ways. “How’s next Thursday suit you?”

FRIDAY NIGHT FULL MOONS

Gill cracked one eye open.  Groaning, he raised his- - -paws!  “How the hell. . .”  He clutched his head and slammed both eyes fully closed.  One breath.  Then two, one more made three.  He slowly opened both eyes.

Sunlight blinded him dizzily as he tried to sit up.  The view tilted and the world spun.  Two moans and several cuss words later, Gill lifted his face from the dirt pile in his back yard.  He inhaled, planted his hands in front of him, and shoved himself upright into a seated position.  His bare back rested against the trunk of the tree straddling the property line between his and his nude sun bathing neighbor’s back yard.  Dusting his hands off, he tossed his head back until he felt the bark of the tree touching his bare shoulders.

Gill swallowed hard.  He didn’t want to look down.  He couldn’t be buck ass---could he?  “Yeouch,” he cried out jumping up, swabbing his hands over his. . .oh, shit he was.  Yes, naked and covered with ants!

Gill raced toward the hose he kept outback.  He turned the faucet on full blast and grabbed the hose.  Drenched and fuming, he tossed the hose aside.  As he cut off the water, female giggles caught his attention.  He shoved both hands through his wet hair.  He blinked.  Twice to make sure the water cascading down his face didn’t reach his eyes.  

“Wow you are something else,” she called out, waving as she stood up.  Mercedes in all her glory faced him.  Breasts the size of cantaloupes with nipples the color of strawberries drew his stare.  The hair on her head matched the nest between her legs.  Gill gulped as she walked toward him.

“Uhmm hell-ll-o,” he managed to stammer.  A gentleman averts his eyes, his grandmotherly conscience admonished.  So he did.  The lower his gaze swept the warmer he felt his cheeks become.  His cock had a mind of its own.  Hard, swollen, and oozing pre-cum, his red member stood at attention ready for Mercedes.  Great, how did he explain this?

“Remembering last night, eh?”  Mercedes stopped short of touching him.  She stood toe-to-toe, so close he could reach out and. . . . 

“Last night?”  Gill groaned as images of Friday night sprang to life.  

“Oh, frisky doesn’t begin to describe your,” Mercedes paused as she stroked her red manicured nails down Gill’s hip.  “You do squirrel real good.  In fact you’re excellent at it.”

She winked and licked her lips.  The bewildered look on her neighbor’s face told her more than if she’d fondled him outright.  Moving closer, she leaned in and whispered, “Full Moons and Friday nights.  You’re a squirrel's delight.”

Gill blinked.  He looked sideways, over his shoulders, and back toward Mercedes’s patio.  A squirrel whistle drew his gaze downward.  At his feet, a medium sized chocolate colored squirrel eyed him.  

Gill jumped back, blinking again.  Mercedes stood in front of him as before nude and smiling.  Gill inhaled and swallowed.  Her excitement and interest filled his mouth and nose.  Full moons and a squirrel shifter next door might make Friday nights more delightful than he’d imagined.

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

Happy weekend Gang!  Sorry to be late posting.  I was off enjoying time in the cool air learning how to shoot.  Fun basics with one of the spice.  Another of the spice family bought a coupon as a gift to a  simulator for my lesson.  Wonderful time with my spice and time for story fodder too.

Keep cool with this heat wave.  Be safe too.  Drink lots of water and remember to share a book or two with your loves and spice.

SOLARA

Happy Independance Day

Guts ‘N Butts Gazette

Special Editorial by guest editor Walden Smith, Fire Chief or Talbot’s Peak

Howdy folks! Fire Chief Walden Smith here with my yearly ‘Ten Commandments of July Fourth Safety.” As you all know, there are ten separate wild fires burning in the state of Montana right now and more than forty burning across the entire western United States. This stuff is serious, so let’s try and follow these commandments this year and not start any wild fires in our own back yard.

 No campfires, bonfires, or open flame cooktops. It’s hot enough, you don’t need them for warmth and there are other ways to cook that won’t leave you as the carcass on the fire!

  No fireworks. Not even kiddie sparklers. Even one spark from them could set the saw grass on fire, as dry as it is this year.

 If you are going to grill, keep a large amount of water handy. A little spray bottle of water can help with flare-ups but make sure you have something a little bigger available as well, just in case someone nocks over the grill.

 No guns, please. If you must practice your marksmanship, stick to super soakers and water bombs.

  No ‘creative lighting solutions.’ This one goes out to the Coyote brothers specifically. They started a small fire last year by using jumper cables to run electricity out to their shed. Any fire started like that this year will not be small.

 No smoking outdoors. I know most smokers say that they are careful with their cigarette butts, but there are ashtray fires all the time started by people who didn’t put their butts out all the way. That’s a recipe for disaster, as dry as it’s been this year.

  No motorized vehicles in the grasslands. A hot exhaust can get dry the saw grass burning. Be safe and hoof it.

  Do not use this list as an excuse to beat the snot out of a rule-breaking neighbor.

  Do not break these rules in order to get your pissy neighbor to come over and confront you.

  Do not sneak on to your arch enemies land and break them and then call the police. We check the caller as well as all people found on the premises.

All that being said, there are some great events planned this year by myself and the city council to make sure everyone has a safe and festive Fourth of July.

•  Ghost Trail Ride: the Haunted Trail Ride was so popular last Halloween that we have talked Merry and Dash into holding a summer version. It begins at sundown at the north end of town. Admission is $1 for the wagon and $5 for horseback.           

•       Music in the Park: there will be five stages set up with music spanning may cultures and genre tastes. This is free, so bring a pick-a-nick basket and the kiddies for what promises to be an interesting melding of cultures.

• ·         Marksmanship Exhibition: Who needs firearms when you can have a safe Fourth of July with the old stand-bys of archery and knife throwing. Heck, Digger’s even going to do a boomerang demo. There will be plenty of straw bales set out for practice targets, so bring your bows down and enter into the all Talbot’s Peak Marksmanship Challenge.

As well as the formal events, many local vendors will have stalls and goodies available. So come on down and have a fire-free independence Day!

Kitty Gets Rambunctious, Even Naughty

Full Moon in Capricorn howls and yowls, shapeshifter lovers.

Here's wishing you a HAPPY, STAY-COOL FOURTH OF JULY!
~~~~~~

Kitty Gets Rambunctious, Even Naughty

Kitty gave her long blonde locks a sassy toss. Restless despite not being in heat, she scanned the crowd, mostly Talbot's Peak families having fun on the small carnival rides, and singles flirting at the booth games.

Gypsy Red Wolf and some of her psychic friends had arrived, and were giving readings. The modest sums collected were to be used to augment the library's collection of ancient shapeshifting manuscripts.

Recently, Kitty had tracked down a private source. However, after the owner provided proof, he'd demanded an exorbitant price. Further, he'd specified no rich donor could be contacted for the funds.

Why? Kitty didn't possess a fricking clue. Flea-scratching frustrated over the situation, she frowned as she strolled toward the roped-off food area. Children of every type and stripe hopped up and down, squealing happily over the ice cream novelties, and other sweet treats.

Sergei, Gypsy's devoted lover, had suggested the street fair company. The motley troupe of shifters and gnomes had a good safety record, even impressing Mayor Link. They'd been willing to include all the town's businesses. Plus, obviously they knew the paranormal score here in The Peak.

Determined to enjoy herself, Kitty cast aside her library worries, and smiled. She spoke and waved cheerfully to everyone who called out to her, everyone who waved.

Before moving toward the snow cone stand -- calling her name and tempting her tongue with its icy and colorful allure -- Kitty gave herself a bit of a slinky shake. The tingles of friskiness assaulting her belly paid no heed.

Sure as the catnip always growing in her sunny kitchen window, she missed Dante terribly. As usual. But this wild urge had to do with her cat need to be rambunctious, act up in some silly way.

It shone like a magic beacon. With her inner huntress aroused, Kitty eyed the rainbow snow cone as the gnome attendant placed it on the counter in the holder.

Evidently he was making one for each of the six fox shifter kits, all of them Brianna's grandchildren. They vacationed with her currently, and every other day, she brought them to the library for reading time. Brianna was a former schoolteacher in the human world.

Before she could stop herself, Kitty darted behind the food stands. Spying one of the imposing oak trees, she slipped close to the broad trunk. No longer able to ignore her impulse -- one heckuva of an itch desperately in need of a good scratch -- Kitty practically tore off her clothes, then tossed them hither, thither, and yon.

Meows! Yowls! It felt positively wonderful to be naked. After a fully body stretch, Kitty quickly morphed into her cat form. She bounded toward the snow cone still before her mind's eye, the one irresistibly beckoning her.

Anticipation sizzled her spine as she streaked the last few yards. Stopping only to crouch low, Kitty sighted her rainbow prize. She sprang, her blood running high.

With ease, and light-footed of course, Kitty landed next to the snow cone holder. Six rainbow treats waited to be handed out.

Yielding to her mad desire, she licked the nearest one. And kept licking despite major tongue freeze. Then big-time brain freeze.

Yeee-owwws! Yee-owsa... but so good.

****


Free to leave the business side of his life behind, Dante strode to his Harley. He'd taken great care to shine every inch of chrome, and now he took a moment to admire his handiwork.

He grinned as the memories of his road trip days flashed through his mind. With a leap, he straddled the beast machine, rapidly put on his helmet, then roared his Hawg to life.

The rough precise purr of the power-packed engine was a balm to his soul. Gunning his Harley just for the alpha thrill of it, Dante spun his tires. He performed a quick wheelie, then peeled out of his biker bar's parking area.

Right now, the afternoon temp had to be hot enough to fry a good-sized steak on the asphalt highway he was about to speed over, toward Talbot's Peak proper. Dante anticipated the slapping force of the wind as he wound down the isolated forest road.

Given the Independence Day celebrations happening all over The Peak, the freedom vibe had gotten under his wolf hide and his human skin. So had his never-ending, humping-ravenous lust for one Kitty Katrina Collins.

A couple of days ago, he'd learned his estranged sire, and most of his criminal pack of no-goods, had skipped town for some high level conference in Las Vegas. Oh howl-hell yeah, he'd sent his carefully chosen spies to infiltrate, find out what meaty morsels of info they could.

That handled, and with the Pleasure Club humming to his tune, time now belonged to him. Paying not the slightest attention to his cruising speed, Dante flew over the highway, his only concern making certain he endangered no one.

He laughed inwardly. No cop car, no highway patrol car possessed the horsepower to keep up with his souped up Harley, let alone hope to catch him. Black ops tech vehicles, now that was a another, utterly nightmarish story.

Not today, wolf boy, he told himself. No worries. Only my sweet Kitty.

Wanting to surprise his beautiful cat woman, Dante hadn't mentally communicated with her. As of late, he relied on his lonesome heart, then his nose to locate her.

Dante slowed his speed to a crawl once he reached the outer limits of Talbot's Peak. His tamed chrome beast prowled the neighborhood street where his Kitty lived. Though, he knew she wasn't at home.

Catching her deliciously pungent scent, Dante followed the invisible trail. Howl to the Full Buck Moon that would be shining tonight! Was he raw with the need to buck inside his woman.

Dante handled his monster bike on automatic now. Closing in on Kitty's exact position, he rumbled a long growl. His impatient cock lunged against his leathers the instant his wolf gaze sighted her standing next to a good-sized oak tree.

What the... holy fuck? An apt expression since his little Kitty tossed off all of her clothes in a cat fit of absolute abandon.

Her fast shift struck him like a punch to the gut. Stopping his Harley, he hit the kickstand fast, then dismounted in one leap. Dante followed after her.

Concerned but amused, he watched her spirited run toward one of the food vendors. In hot pursuit, Dante was just in time to see his gorgeous white cat lap a rainbow snow cone.

He paused only long enough to see her eyes cross, and her tongue turn bright with the different colors. With a huge grin cracking his face, Dante reached for the cash he kept inside his leather jacket.

"There you are," he scolded. "I've been searching all over for you. Naughty, naughty pussy." Dante scooped up his Kitty, and holding her in the crook of his arm, he cuddled her close against his chest.

He tossed a twenty on the counter. "I've been trying to break her of her snow cone habit," he addressed the wide-eyed fox shifter children. "So far nothing's worked."

"A good old-fashioned spanking might do the trick." The fox woman gave him a sly wink. "Here," she reached for one of the snow cones, and handed it to him. "Put that to good use."

"Yes, ma'am. I certainly will." Dante returned her wink.

****

Kitty mewed as she kissed Dante feverishly, then languidly. Their icy tongues tangled, and explored each other with a thoroughness that left her purring-hot inside, and nearly boneless.

Good thing, she was astride his big bad bike, and within the circle of his muscle-bound arm. His oh-so willing captive.

Dante growled possessively as they dipped their tongues into the melty snow cone again. "Come here, woman." He pulled her closer against his hard virile chest, and they spent timeless moments twining their tongues together in every possible position.

Later, as they languidly caressed each other's tongues, Kitty found enough strength to raise her legs and wrap them tightly around her sexy wolf man.

"How long are going to keep me naked?" she naughtily, throatily purred.

~~~~~~

Full Buck Moon Kisses...

Savanna

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

Chicken Supreme

LaZorra let her BFF Trina haul her by the wrist toward the clearing deep in the woods. “Are you sure this is legal?” she asked.

“The fights are. The betting isn’t,” Trina replied with a vulpine grin. “That’s why they hold it way out in the woods. Just remember, if the cops show up, you don’t know me.”

“Gotcha.” They had arrived at the clearing. A burly jaguar gave them the hairy eyeball, but let them pass. Using feminine wiles and fox flexibility, they wormed their way to the front of the spectators. Just in time; the Friday night fights had begun.

A pair of wolves opened the show with a lackluster wrestling match. LaZorra figured she enjoyed it more than the rest of the audience. This crowd was jonesing for mayhem and blood, and wolf fights on the whole lacked both, in spite of the body slams. The wrestlers, clearly low-rankers, were more intent on dominating each other as opposed to annihilation. Finally one pinned the other, and the crowd howled and boo’d. The winner shot them the finger while he helped his opponent to his feet.

“Why do they always start with wolves?” Trina complained. “They snarl at each other and then they show throat. What kind of fight is that?”

“If they held the best fights first, everybody would leave early. Look at it this way: it has to get better.”

Next up was a cat fight. The jaguar got in the ring with an African lion. Halfway through the bout they forgot themselves, shifted to their animal forms and went at it fang and claw. The crowd went berserk, LaZorra along with the rest.

Blood or bloodless, the primitive beast within her loved watching males in combat. Since foxes weren’t an aggressive breed, she had to feed her dark streak in other ways. Cock fights and dog fights, using real animals, were not only illegal, they were cruel and disrespectful to their little cousins. But if two shifter males voluntarily chose to pound on each other in public, where was the harm?

As the lion bore the jaguar to the ground LaZorra felt a hand land on her backside. She slapped at it without turning around. The lion shifted back and rose up, blood running down his sweaty brown body, grinning with his arms in the air. The jaguar slunk away to the hoots of the crowd.

The hand hit LaZorra’s rump again. This time she whirled around. “Hands off,” she snarled at the wolf behind her.

The wolf leered. “You’re feisty. Bet you like to fight."

LaZorra called him a name and nudged Trina. The vixens moved across the ring. They found a new spot just in time for the start of the next fight.

Oooh, nice, LaZorra thought. Muscles piled on top of muscles, just the way she liked them. A bit squat, barely as tall as she, but little guys had big guy energy. He’d shaved his head except for a tall Mohawk, dyed bright red. The seams of his tank top strained to hold together over a chest that looked as broad as she was tall. The name El Gallo had been stitched across the front.

El Gallo’s opponent was a vicious-looking wolverine. They circled briefly, then attacked. The wolverine was counting on a few swift punches to end this fracas early. El Gallo ducked under his swing, leaped into the air and kicked. The wolverine went down with a bloody nose and a look of pure shock.

“I’ll be damned,” Trina murmured. “He must know some UFC moves.”

“More like KFC.” LaZorra grimaced. The grabby wolf had followed them. He shouldered his way next to LaZorra. “No wonder he has to cheat with his feet. Those chicken wings don’t have enough power for a real fight.”

“They look like they could snap you in half,” LaZorra said. “Why don’t you get in the ring and find out for yourself?”

“I like it here.” The wolf made a grab for her butt. LaZorra swayed aside.
Scat. Now she’d missed the end of the fight. El Gallo stood with one foot on the chest of the fallen wolverine and crowed. The crowd yelled approval, and money changed hands.

Suddenly a raven’s shrill caw knifed out of the woods. “Cops!” somebody hollered. “Scatter!”

In human and animal form both crowd and fighters bolted for the woods. In less than a minute the clearing had emptied.

As arranged, LaZorra and Trina split up. Trina went fox, but LaZorra stayed human. She circled back to the parking area. There might be cops around, but without any proof they’d have no cause to hold her.

Suddenly the grabby wolf darted into her path. “Where you going, sweet thing?”

“Get bent.” She tried to duck around him, but he seized her by the arm. “Are you scatty? There are cops all over the place.”

“So we alibi each other. A shifter and his she in the woods, who’s going to question that?” He hooked his leg around hers and tripped her up. LaZorra landed hard, with the wolf on top of her. He pinned her to the ground with a knee on her chest. She thrashed and bit, without success. The wolf just laughed in her face. “Did those fights get you as hot as they got me? I bet they did.”

“The senorita doesn’t want you, perro. Let her go.”

The wolk glared over his shoulder, and LaZorra stared beyond the wolf. The little fighter, El Gallo, stood at the edge of the trees. He flexed his arms in warning.

“Go lay an egg, chicken boy. You know what wolves do to you twerps?”

“Where I come from,” El Gallo said, “this is what we do to wolves.”

LaZorra almost missed the fight, it went by so fast. El Gallo leaped in and yanked the wolf off her. The rest was a flurry of jabs and kicks and lots of grunts and yelps. In desperation her attacker shifted to wolf form. El Gallo laughed and caught him by the tail. He twirled the beast around a few times, then let go. The wolf went flying into the bushes. LaZorra heard a heavy crash, followed by heavy whimpers.

Then she was lifted from the ground by muscular arms covered with soft yellow down. “You are not hurt?” the rooster asked.

She assessed her triple-action heart rate and decided she’d live. “Just shaken up. He outweighed me, but I’ll bet I could have out-bitten him.”

“Perhaps.” El Gallo grinned. “Now come, before la policia find us. You will be safe, but I’m known to them.”

He took her hand, but it was LaZorra who led the way back to the parking area. As she’d feared, the cops had posted a couple of officers by the cars. They were already questioning several people. LaZorra spotted Trina’s silver fox shape in the bushes just as an officer approached them. Trina nodded her muzzle and slipped away.

“Excuse me, ma’am, we have a couple questions.” He barely glanced at her. His suspicious stare landed on El Gallo. “You know anything about an illegal fight club out here tonight?”

“I’ve no idea what you’re talking about,” LaZorra said with a flutter of lashes. “I came out for some privacy with my boyfriend.” She squeezed the rooster’s hand. He smiled benignly. “We like to play fox in the henhouse.”

“Boyfriend,” the cop repeated doubtfully. He looked at El Gallo as if he recognized him. LaZorra made sure to keep her tight tee and short shorts in the cop’s line of vision. The diversion must have worked, because the cop let them go with only a couple more questions and a warning. She gestured at her car. El Gallo held the door for her, then climbed in himself.

Out of the frying pan, she thought, stealing glances at the burly bantam beside her. He must have guessed her thoughts, because he said, “You’ve nothing to fear from me, senorita. We are born and bred fighters, yes, but we are also gentlemen. You may let me off anywhere once we get back to town.”
“I’m not scared,” LaZorra said. Surprisingly, she wasn’t. “Thanks for the hand back there. And the fists and the feet. You’re good.”

“We live for combat. Among other things.” He eyed her body with frank appreciation. “You are a fox?”

“You’re not in any danger from me either,” she said with a grin. “I’m LaZorra.”

“Ah! You are Mexican also?”

“East Texas. I guess Mexican if you go back far enough.”

“Esta bien. I am Eduardo. I do not fear foxes.”

She doubted if he feared much of anything. All of a sudden, neither did she. “Pleased to meet you, Eduardo. I’m too wired to head home yet. Do you have room in your fight schedule for a cup of coffee?”

# # #

SHAMELESS PLUG DEPARTMENT: Legacy is now available in print at Amazon and Barnes and Nobel. I ordered my copy already. What can I say? I like physical books. Drop by Title Magic on Thursday, when I’ll be running an excerpt. (end of commercial)