Steel Saber, A New Tabot's Peak Neighbor

Steel  Saber came down from the mount’n

And gazed at the really weird fount’n

It was a dog dish he was seeing

That’s why he felt like peeing

His prowess he felt like a flout’n

Of this town he’d heard stories

About shifters in all their glory

Some were cats and some were dogs

Some turtles and assorted frogs

Yet they lacked those with heads so hoary

He liked the town’s feel

The people seemed real

But he missed the age of his teens

A time when none preened

And the humans could be his next meal

Should he eat Barney or Fred

Or leave them just shy of dead

Then to slake his thirst

And show them his worst

When he took Betty and Wilma to bed

~~~

 Wow, clearly I've been neglecting my poetry of late that this post would come out not just as a poem, but a really weird limerick!  

Yeah, who am I trying to kid...weird or not, I love limericks.  :D

How about ya'll, feel in the mood to share a little ditty about the Saber-toothed devil in the picture above?  Give it a whirl and remember a limerick follows the standard (aabba) rhyme scheme.

Serena

An Ale By Any Other Name...

“Blast those… those fools! Don’t they realize they are standing in the way of noble progress?” Lex swore. The urge to crumple this ill-fated letter and hurl it in the snow was so strong he forced himself to put it down. He needed to keep this offensive letter for his records.

“What is the problem, azizam?” Lex looked behind him toward Dori, his once-fiancé and current… something. He wasn’t sure he really wanted to rekindle their long lost love, but Dori and his own traitorous heart weren’t giving many choices. Not that he wasn’t still fighting—he had no intention of just rolling over for the beautiful Persian goddess. She broke his heart thousands of years ago and she was going to have to do a lot of groveling to get it back. Nor was he going to share his frustrations with her. Niether she not the monkey-child, Marissa, fully appreciated his brewing genius. He would wait until Mooney, Marissa’s wolf, returned from whatever errand he was running. Mooney would support him he was sure.

Dori watched Lexor carefully as a kaleidoscope of thoughts flashed across his smooth, exotic face. A person could read him like a book if they were paying close enough attention, which was a good thing since this ancient Egyptian demi-god rarely said what he really thought about anything. She saw the usual: that he was still fighting his god nature to fit in with common shifters, that he was still obsessed with making her earn his heart back—never mind that he’d already forgiven her almost a year ago. Dori was somewhat alarmed when she spotted an underlying air of sneakiness. Lexor was up to one of his schemes again. Sometimes they turned out fine but usually they blew up in his face. Or Marissa’s face, rather.

“Lexor, azizam, my sweetheart. What is bothering you?” Dori said with a gentle smile to soften the not-so-soft purr in her voice.

“Nothing assal,” Lex replied airily as he quickly folded the slightly crumpled letter and tucked it in the inside pocket of his blazer faux-nonchalantly. Dori knew better. The only time he called her any endearment, even assal, old Egyptian for honey, was when he was trying to be charming. Lexor was never charming. He was too literal to be successful at artifice and knew this so he didn’t usually even try. Dori, after thousands of years living in the Persian Court of Gods, found his guileless approach to life refreshing and very attractive. Of course, since he was definitely trying to hide something, the feline goddess inside her would not let her drop the subject until she knew what the great mystery was.

“Lexor, my love,” Dori said as she slid behind him and wrapped her arms around his trim hips, rubbing her cheek on the tweed of his coat. “You know and I know that something is bothering you.” Next, Dori buried her nose into the warm, brown skin at the nape of his neck, leaving a trail of little kisses that made him shiver. Dori was please to note that he was standing perfectly still instead of trying to move away. He may still think he was angry at her for her defection when they were young, but he could never lie with his body.

“It was nothing,” he finally said, his polished voice a bit huskier than normal. Dori smiled and let her hands slip inside his coat, exploring his chest as she continued licking and nipping her way over his neck. He sighed and she grinned all the more and began working his coat off his well muscled shoulders so she could reach more of his neck.

“I just got notification that those incompetent fools at the US Patent Office have refuse to grant me a patent on my newest creation, Blue Moon Ale,” he said, very little of his earlier angst showing in his voice as he shrugged, deliberately helping her remove his coat. Dori grabbed it before it hit the floor and used setting the coat on the counter as an excuse to move around to his front.

“I believe there is already a Blue Moon ale out there,” she commented as she renewed her exploration of Lex’s body, carefully running her hands down his hard belly so that she avoided and skin-on skin contact, touching him only through the thin cashmere of his trendy sweater. Lex loved it when she teased him this way, she knew. Modern fashions that exposed too much skin for all to see annoyed him. Not because he was a prude—as an ancient Egyptian demi-god, he’d once run around in a kilt and head dress and little else. Rather, Lex liked the “unwrapping of something no one else got to see,” as he put it.

“But their product is completely different than mine,” Lex argued halfheartedly as he began “exploring” her completely covered body, as well.

“Ale is ale, my love,” Dori purred, dragging her nails along the thick ridge that had sprung up inside Lex’s jeans. “Maybe you could give it another name. What about “Smurfberry Blu Ale?”

“Um, what were we talking about?” Lex mumbled?

Mission accomplished! Dori thought as she grinned. One bad-mood evening averted and replaced with something much more enjoyable. Let him be stubborn, she thought. All’s fair in love and war and winning these little battle of will made the victories all the sweeter for both of them.

When magick rises once again...

Tuesday howls and yowls, shapeshifter lovers.

Yesterday I learned a startling fact. Thanksgiving Day is next week. Can you believe it?

Run for the hills, turkeys. It’s now or never!

And, here’s a somewhat odd flash scene. However, my hero wanted to arrive in Talbot’s Peak, and talked me into penning this flash.
~~~~~~

When Magick Rises Once Again

Hearing the crackle-rustle of autumn leaves, Zalasdair halted and watched the cottontail rabbit dash away from the intruding human. In this case, the intruding warlock.

The young buck rabbit ran as if a demon grabbed for his tail, and Zalasdair admired his speed. Likely he would survive despite the large population of wolven, big cat, and other predator shapeshifters.

Zalasdair used his force and that of the Mother Earth to gift the rabbit with greater speed and more endurance. Afterward, he closed his eyes and silently intoned his gratitude to Gaia for their deep connection, one that had lasted since the end of the Mage Age -- as Zalasdair thought of it, to his sardonic amusement.

“What prize-ass fools,” he darkly muttered. With a twirl and flick of his power staff, Zalasdair spoke the short incantation destroying the satellite tracking him. “Machines are never a match for magick.”

“Never?” Attired like a mock version of Robin Hood, the woman, curvaceous as an hourglass, regarded him, one hand planted on her cocked hip.

After a leisurely scan of her feminine figure -- from the tip of her suede-laced boots to the feathered cap perched atop her flyaway auburn tresses that she’d untidily tied back -- Zalasdair settled his gaze on the delicate yet blatantly sensual features of her face.

“My record ‘against the machine’ as they say, remains one hundred percent. Do you have a challenge? A technology you wish to see rendered useless, little dryad?” Zalasdair arched his brow, a match for hers.

“Human and Dryad,” she corrected, her tone dulcet and deadly.

After an assessing gaze that swept over his tall length, the woman sauntered toward him. She didn’t need an archer’s bow to fire arrows. Zalasdair suspected she possessed the power to shoot lightning from her fingertips. Or create it at will as a thought-form.

Taking her sweet time, Maid Robin Hood walked around him, looking him up and down as if judging him worthy of purchase. Knowing it would be to his later advantage, Zalasdair placed his cantankerous ego aside. Immediately, he felt the human-dryad’s energy as pelting sparks of white light.

Having been in what could be called a dimensional stasis until his recent emergence into this critical period of time, Zalasdair wasn’t surprised at the sudden animation of his cock. After all, the woman owned a lusty nature, one he would like to explore with the art of pleasure.

“As you must know, Mage, I have been sent by the Golden Oak Circle to act as your guide.” She lifted her gaze to him, her hazel eyes shining like sunlight on water.

“Warlock. Here, at this time when magick rises once again, I wish to be called a warlock.”

Her eyes narrowed while her softly pointed chin aimed at his face like a drawn arrow. “I suggest you begin, warlock, by disabling the GPS units that have been attached as spy devices to many of the vehicles in Talbot’s Peak.”

Zalasdair let a small smile tilt the corner of his mouth before he spoke. “Lead on, merry maid.” He paused to take note of her expression. When she twisted her mouth and glared, he asked, “May I know your name? Or, perhaps, the title you desire?”

“You toy with me as if I am autumn’s leaf and you are the wind.”

“You invite my wind to buffet you, my autumn leaf. However, since the matter of the GPS units are crucial to you, and to the welfare of those in Talbot’s Peak, let us attend to them.” Zalasdair lifted his power staff then struck the ground for emphasis.

Like an affronted warrioress, his human-dryad faced him. She planted her fists on her hips as if she channeled Errol Flynn. “I didn’t ask for this assignment... warlock. I didn’t want this assignment.” She huffed out a breath. “Given your reputation...”

“Ah, yes, one’s reputation. Sometimes a blessing. Sometimes a curse. However, I assure you I live up to mine.”

Hearing the sudden drone of several helicopters, and knowing they searched for him, Zalasdair opened himself to the strength of Mother Earth. As he raised his staff directing it toward the infernal flying machines, Gaia quaked her force through him. Zalasdair married his power to hers and closed his eyes.

“A soft landing you will achieve. Only if you turn and leave.” His tone thundered even though his voice remained low -- almost a whisper. “Remain my enemy, if you dare. And I will have no mercy to spare.”

“What are you doing? You can’t make them crash,” his autumn leaf snapped.

Zalasdair cracked one eye open observing her flushed angry face. “But, I can make them crash. Shall I demonstrate to your satisfaction?”

“Stop it. Stop it right now.” She stomped her foot, the sound muffled by the moist thick bed of colorful leaves.

“What if I refuse your command?” Toying with her was a wicked sort of joy indeed.

“Your crotch becomes my target,” she threatened. “I am responsible for --”

“My crotch is yours to target as you choose,” Zalasdair interrupted as he listened to the helicopters retreat, a slight hitch in the sound of their engines.

Her gaze flared brilliantly, and with her rage barely contained, she demanded, “What’s your actual name since I’m stuck being your guide? I refuse to call you Magician of the Sacred Woods. Or ‘Warlock’ of the Sacred Woods.”

“Sacred wood... yes, I must confess I am feeling quite wooden at the moment in the area you intend to target. Since you ask, my autumn leaf, you may address me as Zalasdair.”

His human-dryad flitted a few steps back. Fright darkened her eyes.

Frowning with his concern, Zalasdair asked, “What’s wrong? Certainly, I have never harmed --”

“You have! My grandfather...”

“Explain.” Zalasdair raised his voice in a manner that did not allow her refusal.

An immense sigh burst past her lips, and her shoulders slumped forward in defeat. “There is no need to explain. Your... your magickal retribution was justified. It’s just that I...I can’t forget. Won’t forget.”

Zalasdair refrained from weaving his power around her. To bring forth a confession of truth would not serve him now. Her emotions already swirled like barbs around him, and likely she would never forgive him.

No, he would wait. Although, patience had never suited him. “Shall I request another guide from the Circle?”

Raising her chin high, and stiffening her spine, his autumn leaf faced the trail that led to Talbot’s Peak, the trail he had been traveling to meet his current destiny.

“I will do my duty, warlock.” She spoke without looking at him. “There is no one else. As you said, magick rises once again. We are needed to bring down the machines. The human and shapeshifter soul is very much in peril. Evil has ascended, and the old ways are their salvation.”

“Yes, the old ways. Yes, truth passes your lips. Salvation is needed from the mad brutal beasts who would use the magic of technology to enslave instead of enlighten.”

Once she turned and moved onto the trail, Zalasdair followed yet kept a goodly distance. With his gaze on her light tread, he wondered about the beauty of her dryad wings.

No doubt lived within him that his Maid Robin Hood could manifest them if she so desired.

However -- while an asset to being his guide in the shapeshifter and human world, it was as clear as his ring’s ancient, all-knowing crystal -- his autumn leaf favored her human side.

“Kellyn.” Her voice floated back to him, becoming part of the gusting wind. “My name is Kellyn.”

“Lovely.” Zalasdair dared utter no more words. She had offered him a fragile truce.

To gain more patience, and keep his bond with Gaia strong, Zalasdair swept his gaze, his senses over the Montana forest. His own ability to shapeshift would serve him with the locals, so he assumed. He witnessed evidence of them everywhere.

Perhaps, on a whimsy, he would present himself as a turkey on the day that was called Thanksgiving. From his dimensional window Zalasdair had studiously observed life as it played out on Earth. Helpful, and necessary to fulfilling his destiny, yet he fully realized it was a poor substitute for all that he had missed as real life experience.

Moving ever downward, Zalasdair fondly gazed at the bare-limbed trees who prepared themselves for the rigors and the resting time of winter. Whipping in the stiff wind, a large russet leaf refused to let go, despite being all alone.

In that moment, Zalasdair realized to the depth of his being, he felt all alone.
~~~~~~

Have a Magickal Autumn!

Savanna

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

God and Man (for lack of a better word)

The room was noisy and dimly lit. It stank of liquor, mammals, and the desperation of mortality. In short, it mirrored the world Itzcoatl now found himself in. He’d awakened from centuries of slumber to become the ruler of this?

Why fight it? The state of the world, and this place in particular, suited his current mood perfectly.

He bellowed for more grog. The mammalian servant brought him a tankard and was wise enough to leave him in peace.

Itzcoatl scowled at the sweaty shifters spasming across the dance floor in time to the pounding music. He ought to rip a few hearts from their rib cages. Or swallow some raucous drinker whole. Perhaps that would cheer him.

What was the use, though? This world was overrun with the smelly little pests, like maggots on a corpse. If he chose to conquer it, what exactly would he be getting?

He downed half his drink at a gulp and glowered at the dancers on stage. One was a snake. Such a one should be preparing to serve as his priestess under the new regime – or priest, he amended, as his senses saw beyond the pink wig and padded dress. Instead he writhed for the amusement of drunken mammals in a bar. Perhaps, Itzcoatl mused, he ought to simply destroy this entire world now and be done with it.

The dance, and the loud, awful music, finally ended. The dancers hopped off-stage to mingle with the customers. The snake slithered in his direction.

Just shy of the table, he stopped. His eyes grew huge. The pink wig slipped askew, so quickly did he drop to his knees. “Dios mio!”

“I’m no one’s god,” Itzcoatl rumbled. “Not in this mammal-blighted world.” Still, the touch of proper worship – finally! – brightened his mood somewhat. He slapped the back of the chair beside him. “Come, sit.”

The snake scrambled onto the chair and desperately tugged his dress into a semblance of decorum. Its high-riding hemline made such an effort futile. “Excuse the outfit. We don’t get many gods in here. Hell, we don’t get any gods in here. You know I’m a guy, right?”

Itzcoatl nodded. “In ages past, your kind were revered as seers and prophets.”

“I’m not much in the seer department. That’s Gypsy’s thing. I just like to dress up. If I’d known you were coming I’d have set up an altar. I’ve got one at home, for Quetzalcoatl. Mice and everything.”

A faint smile, his first in hours, touched Itzcoatl’s lips. “You eat the mice yourself, I assume.”

“Well, the Feathered Serpent doesn’t seem to want them. Shame to let them go to waste.” The snake coiled his body more comfortably on the chair and patted his wig back into place. “At any rate, you’ve come to the right town. Talbot’s Peak is a magnet for the weird. There’s only one reason a god would come to Dante’s. You got woman problems.”

“The affairs of gods are none of your concern.”

The snake continued to watch him with his smug, unblinking stare. Itzcoatl glowered back. They stalemated. The Obsidian Serpent relented first. “She is my mate,” he growled. “She carries the blood of the Feathered Serpent. We are destined for each other. Yet when I tried to claim her, she refused me.”

“Claim her, as in … ?”

Itzcoatl’s glare chilled the ambient temperature by at least twenty degrees. The snake nodded. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. I take it you’ve been away from the world for a while.”

“Women long for a strong hand to master them. The world could not have gone so far awry in my brief time asleep.”

“Kicked you in the hidden assests, did she?” The snake grinned at Itzcoatl’s startled stare. “Thought so. Just because I don’t sleep with women doesn’t mean I don’t knoq them. Your intended’s a daughter of the Feathered Serpent, verdad? That makes her a goddess in her own right. No snake goddess worth her scales is going to go down without a fight. Would you really want one who did?”

This gave Itzcoatl pause. The notion had not occurred to him. Of course his Suzy was a warrior, as were all children of Quetzalcoatl. The urge to battle coursed through their veins. “I see now. It’s a fight she wants. It will make her ultimate surrender all the sweeter.”

“Whoa! Hold up there, my divine amigo. There’s fights, and then there’s fights. We’re not like the furries. We don’t need to resort to anything as gauche as brute force, do we?”

“No. We do not.” Slowly Itzcoatl smiled. The snake in the dress recoiled slightly. “You are wise for one so young. When this world is mine, I will set you high in my council.”

“Um, that’s really nice of you, but I’m happy where I am. Spying on the mammals,” he said in a conspirator’s whisper. “It’s a dirty job, but somebody’s gotta do it.”

“Indeed. What is your name, little serpent?”

The snake hesitated, as if weighing lies, and finally answered, “Lamar.”

“Lamar, you have earned the gratitude of Itzcoatl, the Obsidian Serpent. Name your most desired boon and I shall grant it.”

“Thanks, but I’m good, really. How about if I down a mouse in your honor tonight?”

“That will be sufficient.” Itzcoatl rose abruptly. “This planet and its plague of mammals may continue, for the time being. My mate awaits.” He strode across the dance floor, shouldering patrons aside with arrogant abandon, and out of the bar. His exit sparked a lot of glares, but no one tried to stop him.

Lamar spotted the half-empty flagon on the table and drained it. Quzetzalcoatl’s feathered ass, that was too damn close. You never wanted a god indebted to you. Definitely not a snake god.

Gypsy hurried over to the table. “Lamar, are you all right? Something horrible was just in here. I’ve got this awful feeling – ”

“It’s okay, chica. It’s gone.” Itzcoatl’s departure had taken all memory of the god with him as well. Already the ambiance on the dance floor reflected immense relief, as if a bomb had been defused and removed. Lamar stared perplexedly at the empty flagon. “I don’t know why, but I’ve got this crazy impression I just saved the world.”

Six Sentence Sunday: Santa Baby, Several Stars Away

From the Kougar’s Writing Den ~

Six Sentences from my short shapeshifter erotic romance manuscript. [yes, according to the computer it is *6* sentences]

Chapter One ~ Santa Baby, Waitin’ Just for You

Rarely reckless, Kaily flung off the negligee she’d first thought to wear. It landed in a red ephemeral heap beside the tastefully trimmed Christmas tree.

So what if she’d just broken into his house...well, she hadn’t exactly broken in...more like she spied on him until she found out where he hid the extra key...lodged in a crack of the frame above the door of the Victorian mansion he’d resurrected from certain crumbling death, and now obviously treasured.

There was only one thing Kaily could see amiss in the traditional holiday atmosphere he’d created with the help of the town’s local historical club -- a garish red ribbon. The long sash had a simple bow attached to one end, and practically shone despite the low lighting.

Kaily stared at the unexpected invitation.
~~~~~~

Have a Magickal Six Sentence Day!

Savanna

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

~~~ Find out more about Six Sentence Sunday at ~ sixsunday.com ~~~
~~~~~~

Dante's Side Business

Macy looked at the labels on the boxes Kazim set inside Dante’s office door. The word sex stood out in bold letters all over the portion of the label she could see. The whispers Kazim and his friend Frank exchanged had Macy wondering if she dare ask what was going on.

Dante’s agreement to let her work under the table as head cashier and bookkeeper got her into sections of the interspecies pleasure palace most would not know existed. Kitty’s off and on appearances were nothing short of miraculous. Macy knew from the moment she’d seen Kitty morph that Macy would help her any way she could. Love didn’t come easy and the heavens knew folks deserved a bit of happiness where they could find it. So now, this new business venture had Macy and Kitty talking whenever they could.

Macy pulled her cell phone from her purse. She thumbed through her contacts until she found Kitty’s number. Hitting speed dial, Macy wondered if Kitty knew more or would share what she knew.

“Hi Macy,” Kitty’s breathless voice answered. Macy smiled. Kitty probably had her purse buried half way across the shop and hadn’t thought about someone calling her.

“Did I call at a bad time?” Macy wanted to add that Kitty could take her time answering. If the shop was full of patrons, Kitty would need to respond and be brief.

Kitty’s warm laughter followed. “No just my usual focus on one thing. I forgot to put my phone in my pocket.”

“Has Dan- - -” Kitty’s next words cut Macy off.

“That name is never to be mentioned on an open line. Got it?” Macy blinked and held her phone away from her ear. The shrill command and pitch in Kitty’s voice cut through Macy like a hot knife creaming through chilled rock hard butter.

Licking her lips, Macy nodded and cleared her throat. “Did you hear me?” Kitty’s tone had softened.

“Yes, I did. I got the message loud and clear.” Macy winced at her own tone. Kitty’s friendship meant a lot to her. Many of Kazim’s shifter friends snubbed Macy or spoke down to her as though being human made her less than desirable. Kazim’s apologies and attempts at explanations didn’t stop the quick pangs of pain and sorrow. Sorrow for those who lost a chance at true friendship and acceptance from parts of the human community that didn’t mind living amongst those differed from them. Still the same could be said about humans too.

“I’m sorry I yelled. For both of our safety the less you mention or talk about him the better off you are. Kazim’s reputation is in the shadows. He needs to stay there.” Kitty’s hushed words sent shivers up and down Macy’s back.

“I understand. I guess you don’t know about the boxes.” Macy waited, glancing around the office. Twenty to thirty boxes circled her desk. As she looked at the letters and stick figures adorning one box, she gasped.

“Macy, are you okay?’ Kitty’s question pulled Macy back from blurting out her thoughts.

“Oh yes, I’m fine. Listen I hear someone coming. I’ll stop by later to talk in person. Bye.” Macy ended her call and quickly stuffed her phone in her pants pocket.

Kazim’s and Dante’s voices carried down the hall.

“I can’t believe what a hit these toy parties are. I knew shifters were sexy and positive on getting it on. But rubber toys and sex ones?” Kazim’s laugh warmed Macy’s cheeks. His love of pleasure and pleasing her continued to make her squirm each time she remembered one of their love making episodes.

“Oh hell yes. It’s like the rubber bone humans give their dogs or the squeaker toys. Except with shifters, they start out human and end up letting their animal side take over. Remember last Saturday night?” Kazim’s next words echoed through the hall adding to the red hue Macy was sure warmed her cheeks and neck.

“Which part? When the she wolf got pissed off at the drunk male who wouldn’t take no for an answer and she double knotted the elastic straps of the strap on cock on his head after she tripped him? Talk about embarrassment. Running around with a neon glowing purple cock pointing off your head sure shit ain’t dignified.”

Dante’s snicker preceded his reply. “Yes, that was good. No, my favorite was when the two got into the tug of war over the glow in the dark cock ring. Three tugs later and did they glow from using it. Broke the ring in half spattering themselves with the fluid inside.”

Kazim coughed and sputtered. “I hear they couldn’t get the fluid off for days! Sure adds a new meaning to sex makes you glow.”

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

Has the colors of fall graced your country side and trees yet? Here the vibrancy and richness of change is upon us. The chill at night has me snuggling closer to my spice and loves. Sharing blankets, hot kisses and hugs helps. Keep an extra blanket next to the good books you're sharing with your spices and loves. Remember to warm your hands up before you grab those delicious nether regions.

Have a great weekend!

SOLARA