Bargain

(continued from Monday’s blog)

At first it looked like Serenity might just get her man/ride home. Competing bids were scattered and half-hearted. She got the impression this bachelor might not be too popular with the crowd.

Why not? He was handsome enough to turn a girl’s head. Not a shorty, not too tall. His dark face appeared blemish-free. He didn’t look too thrilled to be up on stage, like he’d only entered the auction on a bet and now regretted it. His reluctance might have communicated itself to the women, accounting for the spotty bids.

Which made him perfect for Serenity. A ride home from a man who didn’t want to date her was exactly what she wanted right now.

She topped a bid with her own for $300. No one else spoke up. Obeying gestures from the drag queen auctioneer, the man on stage struck a pose. It didn’t help. Serenity had to squelch her urge to hop up and down. She was going to make it out of the shifter club unscathed!

“Three-fifty.”

Crud. Serenity glanced over to where the bid had come from. A hard-faced older woman in a tight cocktail dress and too much lipstick gazed at the man on stage with clear predatory intent in her gemstone eyes. She licked her overglossed lips. Even at a distance, the bachelor's gulp was visible.

Serenity’s normally weak temper suddenly flared. Not my ride, you don’t. “Four hundred.”

“Five hundred,” the woman instantly countered. She snarled at Serenity, with a growl and teeth showing and everything. In her case, “cougar” was probably literal.

No way, Serenity thought. No way she was spending the night here. “Five-fifty.”

“Six.”

Double-crud with an egg on top. She’d gone over budget at $400. The man on stage stared at her beseechingly.

“One thousand.”

Serenity jumped, with an audible, “Eek!” The bid came from right at her shoulder, and the voice was undeniably male.

She risked a glance at her new competitor. Skyscraper-tall, dark-haired, dusky-skinned, wrapped in a silk suit that sneered at off-the-rack. He grinned down at her and winked.

Serenity slumped. I’ve been bidding on a gay man. In public. My life is now officially over.

The bachelor on the block flared to life. “Guri!” That was either a curse or the bidder’s name. He made it sound like both. “This travesty is for the women only!”

“I’m trying to get you a suitable date. Just stand there and look desirable.”

The bidders howled with laughter. Serenity wanted to sink into the floor. She opted for slinking away.

The tall man caught her arm and held her in place. “It’s all right,” he assured her. “Bid as high as you like. I’ll cover it. Sanjay is my brother. I want him to go to a lovely maiden, not some dried-up hag.”

Lipstick Lady overheard. She snarled at the man like a panther. Serenity’s new benefactor snarled right back at her. Lipstick Lady backed off.

Serenity shrank as far from the man as his grip on her arm would allow. Runny eggs and bacon. Her pay pal was a predator. If the one on the stage was his brother, then that meant—

“Going once … going twice … SOLD for one thousand dollars to the girl with the panicked look on her face,” the drag queen cheerfully announced. “He’s all yours, chica. You might as well take off the bra right now. Save you both some time. Oooh, look who’s up next! He’s an EMT and former football star, with a hard head and an even harder—”

Serenity’s spinning head tuned out the rest of the spiel. She was now the proud owner of some kind of shifter. She let the tall ATM in the silk suit guide her off to the side, where her purchase waited beside a cashier.

Brothers. They were brothers. Good Lord, he’d just paid a thousand bucks. Would she have to go with both of them?

Her resolve steeled its spine. As long as they had a car. That was all that mattered. The rest she could figure out when the time came.

Serenity’s ride home was buttoning up his shirt. He didn’t appear any more comfortable than she felt. His brother shoved the two of them together and then abandoned them to pay the tab.

Okay, let’s get this over with. Serenity took in a deep breath, steadied her nerves, and looked her bachelor in the face.

Oh my.

For an alleged predator, he had the mildest eyes she’d ever seen. Not in color, though. That green was intense enough to blast paint off a truck, or resistance off a woman. His sudden smile matched his eyes, peaceful and reassuring while at the same time brutally lethal. He smoothly took her hand and kissed the back of it. Serenity made a little mewling sound.

“I am Sanjay Ghan,” her impulse purchase introduced himself. “And you … ” He regarded her hand. “Are very sweaty.”

“Sorry.” Serenity snatched her hand away and scrubbed it frantically against the butt of her dress. “I never bought anybody before. I’m Serenity.”

“Serenity.” His accent turned it into a song. A little shiver took her, that for once had nothing to do with her hair-trigger nerves. “How lovely. If I may ask … are you a deer? You’ve got that look about you.”

“A deer? No! I mean, no, I’m not, I’m not a shifter, I’m just here by accident. I’m human.”

“Human? That’s even better.” A smile exploded across his handsome face like an H-bomb. “Father will shit in his pants.”

“Uh, what?”

“Excuse me.” Sanjay’s brother returned to them. He was stuffing a wad of bills back into his wallet. Serenity’s eyes bugged at the thickness of it, and the visible denominations. He slipped the wallet into one pocket and his hand into the other. This hand came up with a set of car keys, which he handed to Sanjay. “I have to leave you now. There will be many ladies who will lose out in the bidding tonight. I must stay and console them. Take the car. I’m sure I can find a ride. Or a room. Or I’ll have someone come get me.” His grin and wink took in the two of them before he sauntered away. “Enjoy your date.”

Serenity gaped after him. They were rich? They had people who would come collect them if they called? She shook those thoughts off. They were also shapeshifters, species unknown, but in all likelihood predators, and she was a jumpy human girl whose date had just mistaken her for prey.

He had a car. Good enough.

“About that date,” she started. “All I really want is—”

Her bra strap slipped again. She reached for it. Sanjay’s hand stopped hers. He took the bra strap, slid it back up her shoulder and tucked it beneath her dress. His fingers left a trail like fire up the bare skin of her arm.

Serenity’s brain flatlined.

“Have you eaten? Would you like dinner?” he asked in his musical voice.

From somewhere in the outer reaches of the universe Serenity heard herself say, “Dinner sounds great.”

The Legend Of The Michigan Dogman

Sorry, busy, busy day. Here's a fun little song/video I stumbled across. Sorry for anyone running dial-up.

Bachelor Auction: Owner of a Lonely Heart

In the wake of the Full Wolf Moon, howls and yowls, shapeshifter lovers.

Hope your new year is off to a good start. Today's flash continues the *Bachelor Auction at the Pleasure Club* theme of Pat's howl-wonderful Monday flash scene.  Only this is a spinoff with a different hero and heroine. But it's all wildcat and wooly at the Interspecies Pleasure Club.
~~~~~~

Bachelor Auction: Owner of a Lonely Heart

Drice Zhellius of the Vothura Clan assessed his reflection in the primitive 3-way mirror, as it was called in this Earthen culture. The dark gray suit made out of a liquid-flowing fiber called silk fit his large *compared to most human males* frame as he'd requested of Dante's personal tailor, or garment constructor.

As was the way of his planet-kingdom, Drice wore nothing beneath the pants that skimmed his lower half and only outlined his sculpted musculature. The jacket accommodated his broad shoulders, toned by a lifetime of warrior's training.

Drice's sire had spent precious time to oversee and train his fourth son. That alone sparked the enmity of his three politically, uber-ambitious brothers, which had worsened over time despite the peacemaking efforts of his beloved mother.

His brothers wanted exclusive rule of the three realms of their Vothura territory. Bored, tired of their constant verbal attacks, their intrigue-machinations against his rise in status and power, Drice grabbed the opportunity with both clawed paws to rule a small satellite realm in their far-flung, but loosely governed galactic empire.

Only a trick occurrence now owned his destiny. At the first stargate his durable uni-craft spiraled through an unexplored space tunnel, and Drice found himself on the edge of Earth's solar system. With no apparent course home.

He'd explored the possibilities of the many inhabited worlds, deciding on Earth for two reasons. The beautiful women and he could flex his warrior's muscles, especially in Dante's alpha-claimed territory. Protectors were always needed according to the werewolf leader.

Besides, the freedom to transform into his animal side, even though he was no breed-match for an Earth species of big cat, was to be treasured. With the bounty of unusual creature-humans in Talbot's Peak, Drice felt comfortable enough.

Yes, his alliance with Dante and his circle of Protectors, was relatively short. Even so, Drice chose to find a permanent mate. This would guarantee his safety from the minion-assassins his brothers were certain to shoot like arrows from a quiver into the wider cosmos to find him.

However, once the message reached the three that he'd mated on another world, their attempts to eliminate him would cease. He'd no longer be a threat to their rulership, given his marriage to an off-world woman.

Drice performed a dance move before the mirror to, once again, observe how the open suit jacket moved, revealing his contoured chest. With a decided starry twinkle in his eye, Dante had promised him such a display would be a sexual invitation, and bring in a large donation for charity purposes.

There was much to enjoy on this mongrel-primitive world, and Drice intended to fully devour life here. With a shake of his shoulder length mane, and that determination fueling him, Drice departed his personal domain at the subterranean Pleasure Club. He strode toward the spiral concrete walkway that would take him to the individual club hosting the bachelor auction.

His hormones surged high in anticipation of all the gorgeous-smelling women that would be present. Already he caught the sumptuous whiff of female power, and his big-cat tail began to erupt, a sign of sexual interest.

****

Khiarro stilled in mid-action, the shout of approval stuck in her throat. She plain out ogled the man now strutting to the center of the stage. His powerful gliding steps were in sync with the song, "Owner of a Lonely Heart".

Good gawd, visions of her plastered against him as they slow danced took up every inch of space inside her head. What would he feel like, all that latent, steel-muscled strength moving against her?

Khiarro never ogled. But dayum, a new carnal hunger possessed her. Oh, she appreciated a man's attributes, and intended on claiming a date with one of the available bachelors... and she'd come prepared to donate generously... but now all  financial caution was cast to the winds of *I want him*.

Tipped too far forward on her stiletto black heels, Khiarro re-balanced quickly. Yet her gaze never wavered as the tall cat-beast of a man prowled and danced down the long catwalk. His fluid sexy moves were somehow a distinguished version of John Travolta in "Saturday Night Fever".

Feminine screams, yowls, and yells created a din around her as Khiarra simply stared. With her gaze absolutely trapped by the gorgeous man's partly exposed, very lickable chest -- all tan-golden muscle -- and by the potent sensual gyrations of his hips, she felt her grip on her minibag tighten, as if she held a football.

Was she preparing to hurl the tiny bag, and the wad of cash and Talbies inside, at Lamar before the bidding even began? 'Hell yeah, anything that works,' her mind said.

Before she knew it, Khiarra shoulder-shoved her way to the end of the catwalk. To the tune, to the primal beat of "how ya like me now"... had Lamar said the name, Drice?... Drice sauntering-danced closer and closer. 

As he showed off his all too impressive assets, Khiarra's inner leopard claws sprang forth. She ached to rake the women around her out of existence -- another extreme emotion foreign to her nature.

Shocked at herself, she stumbled back a step. Blazing eyes the color of antique gold caught her, and seemed to single her out.

Khiarra shiver-burned down to her heel-scrunched toes. Her knees threatened to collapse as the *hunk of purrfection* continued to gaze at her. As his mouth formed the word, "You."

"Okay, ladies, time to bid for our latest, out-of-this-world bachelor." Lamar had barely hiss-shouted the words, when Khiarra heard a cacophony of shrill excited voices rapid-firing their bids.

But all she had to do was bide her time, then compete against the last two high bidders. Khiarra smiled while squeezing her cash-fat minibag. Finally the wealth from her small, fashion-design company for shapeshifters was paying off. She could afford the Big Cat Man of her dreams, a dream unknown to her until this fateful moment.
~~~~~~


Wishing you love and passion on the wild side in the New Year, 2015 ...

Savanna 

Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance

Impulse Buy

Today’s post refers back to an oldie but a goodie, this one here. It’s also a two-parter. The results will be posted next week, or Thursday if there’s enough demand.

# # #

Serenity Miller tugged at her bra strap. She never should have worn a bra tonight. Sure, it made her boobs stand up like puppies begging at the table, but the underwire was cutting a line into her skin and the one strap kept slipping down. All the perspiration wasn’t helping. She reached up to fuss with her hair, caught the action and forced her hand back down.

Of all the places to get dumped, a freaking shifter bar. God only knew how many “I’m lost, helpless and afraid” signals her sweat was blasting out to the clientele. The predators would sniff it and start circling. The herbivores would smell the predators and leave her to her fate. Just like Roger had, a half hour ago.

Of course he’d taken the car.

Now here she was, alone in a club in the middle of nowhere in a skimpy skintight dress and an ill-fitting bra, surrounded by wild animals and sweating up a storm. How would they fit all that on her tombstone? She’d need a billboard, at least.

Or a cab. But when she went to the bar to ask, the bartender told her, “No cabs, not at this time of night. We can rent you a room, if you like.” He glanced at her sagging bra strap and winked.

Serenity shivered. No thanks. She took refuge in the ladies’ room and locked herself in a stall. She sat on the throne while her mind raced and her heels clacked a rhythm on the tiles. She forced them to stillness. After a second one toe started tapping again.

No doubt about it, Mom must have been soaring on pain meds when she picked the name “Serenity” for her newborn. Maybe “Jitters” hadn’t looked pretty on the birth certificate.

She knew she couldn’t stay in here forever. Neither could she leave without a car. The exit from the Pleasure Club—the name right there should have tipped her off—led through the bar upstairs, where a visible bra strap would act on the rowdy clientele like an engraved invitation. There had to be a way out of this, one that didn’t involve meshing body parts with something inclined to sprout fur.

The restroom door opened. Serenity froze. Some female something, likely not human, in four-inch stilettos paused in front of a sink. Serenity held her breath. After a moment the door opened again. A woman’s eager voice shrilled, “C’mon, Jill, the auction’s starting!” The stilettos clicked rapidly over the floor, and the door thumped shut.

Auction?

Oh, duh, she thought a second later, once her brain finally registered the notice taped to the stall door right in front of her. The Interspecies Pleasure Club presents our Charity Bachelor Auction, with details in smaller type she didn’t bother to read. She vaguely recalled seeing it advertised both in the bar upstairs and in the club itself. She’d been too concerned with fussing over Roger to pay the advertisements any attention.

Who the hell brings their girl to a shifter bar to break up with her, and then leaves her there? The asswipe who’s already found someone else, that’s who. Triple bonus asswipe points to him for timing their date to coincide with the end of his new paramour’s work shift. The two had bolted out the door while Serenity was still processing his hasty, “We should see other people.”

At least they hadn’t ordered yet. He’d only left her paying for the drinks.

I hope she gives you rabies, Serenity thought. I hope she bites your nuts off. I hope you get fleas.

Beyond the door an amplified voice boomed something that was greeted by a thunder of feminine cheers. The show must have begun.

Suddenly she thought of a way she could get a ride home. One she could ditch without trouble or qualms once he delivered her to her door. Paid escorts had to do what you told them, right? One of those men parading around on stage had to be an herbivore or something equally harmless. A hedgehog or whatever. And anyway, the poster said the money was going to charity. She’d be doing something positive for the community.

Abandoning the sanctuary of the stall, Serenity gave her bra strap a last, desperate tug and burst out of the ladies’ room. She sucked in a full breath and headed for the stage.

Oh, runny eggs. That was one huge crowd of females packed around the stage. More predators than she was comfortable being downwind of, and quite a few of those firmly ensconced in the cougar age ranges. Even the herbie girls were eyeing the line of potential dates like Eve had the apple. Serenity swallowed hard and clutched her little clutch purse. Her $47.32 in cash wasn’t going to get her very far.

She let the first two men go without bidding because they were wolves. She could tell by the way they stalked across the stage, with their tight butts wagging like tails. She did not want to be in a car with a wolf. Or anywhere else, for that matter.

A pair of brunettes who looked like sisters snapped up bachelors #1 and #2. The four left the club in a pack, heads together and hands in each others’ back pockets. Hey, Serenity thought, whatever floats your boat. She returned her attention to the stage.

The third one came out shirtless. He had to be a horse. He had hair past his shoulders and shook it a lot. He also pawed the stage with one booted toe. Definite ride home.

Serenity bid up to $200—they’d take plastic, right? They’d better—but chickened out when a blonde in a cowboy hat started hissing at her. The horse-man went to the hissing blonde, and Serenity went into another spiral of despair.

C’mon, she told herself. Don’t let them intimidate you. You want to be stuck here all night? These bitches won’t do anything to you in public. You’ve got pepper spray.

The next one, she promised herself. Bid on the next one no matter what he is. Get him and get the hell out of here. Please please please let him be something harmless.

Okay, this was promising. Unlike the previous flannelphiles, #4 had a suit on, with the jacket and shirt open to reveal a smooth, firm-looking chest. He prowled to the center of the stage and stood there stiffly, squinting against the lights.

“Now here’s a sporty number,” the auctioneer said with an open leer. It appeared to be a woman in a sequined evening gown with pink hair teased into a ‘60s beehive, but the voice revealed “her” as a man. “Who wouldn’t want to put this racy tiger in her tank? Do I hear one hundred dollars?”

Serenity’s hand shot up before she could talk herself out of it. “One hundred.”

TO BE CONTINUED

Happy New Year

Happy weekend gang,

Sorry no post this week. Double holidays and work
has me pulling overtime. Keep tuned as the name game
continues. I'm working on the list that Chloe's family wants along with Gill's relatives like Louis Bastian.

Until next week,

Solara

What's in a Name?

Ralph walked back to his cabin still pondering the board back at the gazette.  The baby name pool still had not been finalized.  Were Nick and Ziva ever going to name their spawn?  And now there was another board he’d had to wager on for Mayor Gil’s new fleet.  He had high hopes that between all the multiple births here lately one of them would choose his pick—Dwayne, such a fine name.

“Ugh,” he grumbled.  It was 2015 and things still weren’t going his way.  The movie selection was meh, the town was all happy-happy, Joy-joy, lately; the most exciting thing to happen was the awesome mammoth battle of a few months back.  At least it gave him fuel for his op-ed column.  His most recent submission made him chuckle…What’s in a Name?

Since both Nick and Ziva were off on baby leave, they’d left Mistress P in charge of getting the gazette out so he stood a good chance of this article making it into the mix.  Hopefully, it would help the alpha’s finally settle on one of the names he’d picked.  He’d included names not just for their two, but also for the mayor’s lot.  Now he’d go home and submit the poem he’d penned to the online gazette; anonymously, of course.  Then he was due a few winks.

Dwayne, is the name

So sturdy and strong

It will bring with it fame

So you can never go wrong.

Another is Rock,

Or Rocki for a girl

Now don’t you bock

Don’t you remember the squirrel?

I also like Jon or John,

Nice and short, not too long

For a girl go with Joni

That’s a short “O” not a longy!

~~~

Happy New Year everyone!  I'm busy working on the newsletter so don't forget to sign up.  There's lots of free reads and catching up with our Talbot's Peak residents.  If there's anyone y'all are interested in reading more about, leave us a post and let us know...we authors always enjoy poking our characters for more.
Serena