On a Mission of Mercy While the Hellephant Rampages

 Mid-July howls and yowls, shapeshifter lovers.

So, while Ewan is heroically trying to save his damsel in distress, and Talbot's Peak is in the path of the mutant mammoth werewolf's mighty trampling feet... what are our other heroes doing?
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On a Mission of Mercy While the Hellephant Rampages

The day before Mammoth-zilla...

About to lift the stein of ale, and enjoy a long draw of the premium brew, Dante paused, then asked, "Gorgio, what can I do for you?"

The goat shapeshifter approached, a nervous smile on his Greek-handsome face. Popular with the lady patrons at the pub, Dante had recently promoted Gorgio to a head server, a raise in pay included, of course.

"Sorry to disturb you, boss. I know you must be busier than–"

"Yeah," Dante interrupted, taking hold of the printed page Gorgio was about to crumple by handling it too much.

"My friends are in danger. Since you don't allow cell phones here..." Gorgio bleated the explanation, even as Dante began reading the intriguing but disturbing news article.

'Werewolf' wreaks havoc on livestock in Central Philippine island

A series of livestock attacks, occurring during the full moon, has Manilla farmers on edge.
 Manila: Bloodsucking creatures are devastating livestock herds in the island of Sibale.

Residents are at a loss over what vicious animal would leave only carcasses of its prey after feasting on them.

An article published recently by the Manila Standard Today said farmers are becoming increasingly fearful of the creature, which strikes when the moon is full, sucks the blood of its prey and tears off the limbs of livestock such as goats.

“It’s a continuing goat massacre happening at the onset of the full moon almost every year since 2012. So far, more than 200 goats had been massacred by this unknown killer,” Sibale Mayor Lemuel Cipriano was quoted as saying by the report.

Locals believe that the culprit was similar to the mythical werewolf, a creature that strikes during the evening and transforms into a four-legged creature. ~gulfnews.com/news/world/philippines/werewolf-wreaks-havoc-on-livestock-in-central-philippine-island-1.1359060~

****

"Nifty, effing nifty," Dante growled in his *about to shift into a werewolf* voice. He scanned the panel instrumentation of Blade Runner's disc-shaped space craft, then watched the ET rabbit shifter expertly control their descent into the Philippine jungle.

"Damn trippy ride through that dimensional rift... like surfing atop Jello," White Fang gutturally commented, then elbowed Dante.

Dante's super wolf buddy -- technically another ET from a planet ruled by wolf shapeshifters -- pointed to the wide screen above the panel. "Looks like we've been discovered."

An array of formidable, futuristic cannons emerged into view. Perched on a rugged, massive cliff above the towering treetops, the sci fi weapons raised into position, obviously targeting them.

"And a fun time was had by all," Blade Runner drily smirked.

He dived the small craft directly toward the cannons. They picked up speed so fast, Dante could barely make out the approaching landscape with his superior vision.

As laser beams streaked and flashed, Blade Runner zigzagged them through the constant fire like a rabbit evading a predator. In this case though, instead of running, Blade Runner played dodge ball, or dodge-the-laser.

Dante resisted the urge to clutch his stomach. Blade Runner had warned him about the physical effects of flying and maneuvering at supersonic speed. At the same time, he grinned, his wolf fangs scraping the corners of his mouth. Wolf hunting howls, his blood rushed through his veins with the wild-thrill ride.

Quick enough, Blade Runner danced the craft past the long established black-ops base. Slowing, the warrior rabbit shifter dipped them beneath the umbrella of foliage, then sailed a path that would take them straight to the cave lair of the so-called werewolves.

Before boarding the craft, White Fang had flown Super Man style over the island of Sibale. He'd used his incredible powers on the reconnaissance mission, discovering the daytime lair of the five beast men, a race ancient to the Earth.

Problem -- according to the psychic remote viewers in the Peak's Witch Circle -- the bestial predators were being programmed by mad scientists at the secret base. Also, their DNA, and even their seed, was being used to build a legion of monster soldiers.

Within minutes, Blade Runner hovered above the cavern, hidden by a blanketing layer of vines. On screen Dante watched the five, thickly furred bipedals with canine heads awaken, and leap to their feet.

"They've been warned about us," White Fang stated in his warrior voice. "I attempted to mind contact them. It's been blocked by their brain implants."

"Magneto grid around them, too," Blade Runner reported. "My limited weaponry can't penetrate. You're on your own, wolf boys. I'll hold down the fort, as your human counterparts say. Or  more precisely, I'll keep the frequencies now targeting my ship from blowing it into ion particles."

"No choice." The words growled up from Dante's gut. His wolf had sensed the killers unsatiated need for a bloody feeding could only be stopped by death.

With his fur sprouting fast, and his shift to full werewolf accelerating by the moment, Dante focused his altered gaze on the ramp Blade Runner now lowered. Beside him, Dante keenly felt White Fang morph to his wolf form, his force nearly overwhelming.

In sync, and on all fours, they both launched out of the craft. Side by side, he and White Fang raced toward the cavern's small entrance.

As he ran, the bloodthirsty side of Dante exploded, then consumed his very being. He rarely entered this state, but when he did...

He sprang, his jaws snapping around the bipedal werewolf's huge throat. Dante drove his fangs deeper and deeper as they savagely wrestled body to body, claw to slashing claw. All the while, the enormous fangs and claws of another bestial wolf man ripped at his hide.

After several quick rolls, Dante tore out his foe's throat. In the great spray of blood soaking him, he whirled on the beast wolf ruthlessly attacking his flank.

Dante lunged for his enemy's belly, shredding the tough-as-steel hide with ferocious zeal.  Simultaneously, his own hide was being viciously raked off in hunks. He didn't feel a thing, the high surge of adrenalin protecting him as he rapidly tossed large pieces of flesh, seeking access to the beating heart.

With a mighty crunch of his jaws, Dante chomped through bone, and snagged the swiftly pumping heart. He burst it with several quick penetrations of his fangs, then spun toward the remaining bipedal who had a muzzle full of Dante's fur.

White Fang joined the battle, and between the two of them not much remained of the beast wolf's body.

"Time to depart!" Blade Runner hollered from his craft. "Six bogeys bearing down on little ole rabbit me. And someone needs to clean up this mess. Can't let those scientist idjits have any of your genetic material. Right, wolf boys."

Once he and White Fang ran inside and collapsed, Blade Runner lifted off, even as the ramp closed behind them. Dante yielded to the excruciating pain caused by his rapidly healing body. But, howls yeah, it had been one hellishly good fight.

~~~~~~


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

Savanna 

Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance

Armed and Dangerous

The human kid behind the counter at the sporting goods store barely glanced up from his texting when Ewan and Deuce burst in. “Help you gents?” he said distractedly.

“We need an elephant gun,” Ewan said.

“What the hell for?”

Ewan pointed out the window. “For the elephant.”

That got the kid’s mind off his cell. He pressed his face to the window and gawped at the mutated mammoth wading through, or in most cases on top of, the slew of cars stalled out on the two-lane, while their drivers wisely fled on foot.

By now the police had arrived. The cop cars hung well back. There wasn’t much they could do against this sort of traffic hazard.

Meanwhile, Ewan and Deuce did a quick inventory of the gun racks. “Is this all you got?” Ewan called.

“Yeah. Where are the assault rifles?” Deuce demanded. “You’re a gun store in America. You’re supposed to have assault rifles. The right to bear arms and blow shit up and all that.”

The kid wrenched his gawp away from the window. “We don’t carry those. Just regular hunting gear. I mean, since when does Montana have elephants?”

Obviously the kid had never ventured into Talbot’s Peak itself. Ewan assessed and mentally discarded the array of rifles, compound bows, hunting knives and other sportsmen’s implements of mass game destruction. Nothing here would pack enough wallop to even put a dent in the former Freddy le Douche. What could they use that would stop him without putting Maureen at risk?

“I can’t let you have a gun anyway,” the kid continued. “There’s a waiting period. It’s the law.”

Deuce jabbed his finger at the window and the chaos beyond. “He’s not waiting.”

“He’s not trying to buy a gun. The best I can do is sell you a bow. The elf guy killed an elephant with a bow in that hobbit movie, right? That should work.”

Yeah, if you were a stunt man working with props and the elephant would be added later via CGI. Live, PO’d mutant werewolf/mammoth hybrids were trickier. Especially when they had your mate trapped on their back.

Ewan turned away from the gun racks. The kid did have a point. He’d seen Lord of the Rings several times, especially the last one with all the action sequences. A gun wasn’t going to cut it. If only he could get close enough to get Maureen out of harm’s way …

Maybe, just maybe, he could. All he needed was a different movie.

He bolted for another section of the store. Yes. They had what he wanted. He yanked one out of its rack and waved it at the kid. “Is this what I think it is?”

“Yeah,” the kid said warily. “We don’t get much call for those around here. I don’t see what—”

“I’m taking it for a test drive. Bill me.” Ewan grabbed Deuce’s arm and charged out the door with his weapon of choice gripped tight in his other hand. This would work. It had to.

God, it was said, looked after little children and idiots. Chaos didn’t look after anybody. Coyotes quickly got used to handling disaster on their own. And they were damn good at it, too.

Ewan and Deuce piled into the car. The former Freddy had already left the strip behind and was moving at a rapid clip up the road. Ewan dodged Dante’s muscle car around abandoned RVs and soccer mom mobiles and took off in pursuit.

# # #

Abram Turkle’s daughter Sharon liked to listen to the police scanner while she did her chores. Now she called out to him. “Pa! Come listen to this. Something weird’s going on down at the exit.”

Turkle listened intently to the hysterical voice of the dispatcher and the disjointed reports from cops trying their mightiest to stay calm in the face of insanity. As he listened, his grin got wider and wider.

When he figured he had the full picture, Turkle went into the den, where his house guest was field-stripping and cleaning—with the proper care and reverence, Turkle was pleased to note—the family’s collection of defensive weaponry. The man had a keen eye for quality hardware and healthy respect for a gun. Pity about his human parentage. He’d’ve made a damn fine turkey.

“Trouble down at the exit,” Turkle announced. “Sounds like a woolly mammoth’s running loose.”

Cochrane glanced up from his cleaning. His glance became a stare when he realized Turkle wasn’t kidding. Not that Turkle was much of a kidder to start with. “Woolly mammoth? Aren’t they extinct?”

“Guess this one didn’t get the memo. Y’wanna go kill something big?”

Cochrane got up. His grin matched Turkle’s for sheer ferocity. “Point me at it.”

SNEAK PEEK SUNDAY: Her Midnight Stardust Cowboys ~ Chapter Twenty-four

Her Midnight Stardust Cowboys 

Note: Sherilyn's life has gone totally topsy-turvy, and she's faced with an unbelievable circumstance.

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First SIX paragraphs from ~

Chapter Twenty-four:
Everything faded, and Sherilyn could see nothing... 

Everything faded, and Sherilyn could see nothing but blackness. The next thing she knew, she blinked, and her eyes adjusted to the early morning light.

Nothing felt familiar, especially not the bed. Alarm kicked at the pit of her stomach, but ended fast as her memory clicked on, crystal clear.

"My horses." Sherilyn automatically thought about taking care of them, as she did every morning.

For the moment, that remained out of her hands. Not moving, she reeled from everything that had occurred since being hit by her truck.

Deciding she'd better get up, Sherilyn shook her hair off her face, and slowly sat up. She looked around for a clock. No, none she could see.

However, she spied her bag atop a dresser that appeared to be an early fifties design. Her clothes, now folded neatly, had been placed on a small, teal-colored ottoman.

~~~~~~ 

For more Sunday Sneak Peaks ~sneak-peek-sunday.blogspot.com~  

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Blurb & Excerpts for HER MIDNIGHT STARDUST COWBOYS are on my page above.  

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Have a Magickal Shapeshifting Week...  

Savanna

Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance

Talbot's Peak Prepares for Retribution Shapeshifter Style Or Paybacks Ain't Nice Here on the Peak

Gill wondered how many more times he needed to pound on the table before anyone paid attention.  Talk about chaos and shouting.  He glanced around council chambers and sighed.  Not even two weeks into his new term in office and helter-skelter was breaking loose.

“I don’t care about. . .” Vernon McMahon’s words faded as another council member moved between Vernon and Dante.  Over behind them, Louie and his district cohort energetically motioned as they talked.  In the opposite end of the chamber, Rachel along with Tyburn huddled with four to five other members from across town.  Center of the room, the human delegation stood tightly together whispering as they looked up from time to time.

Gill inhaled, swung the gavel upward, and bellowed.  “Enough!!” He rapped on the table hard twice, then yelled again.  “Sit down and come to order.”
Silence took a few moments to flood and wash away the murmurs and whispers until quiet filled the room from floor to ceiling.  Gill swallowed hard as he met each gaze upon him with his own.  Bickering and fighting amongst themselves had to stop.  Vandals, thieves, and infiltrators want to take over.  More importantly, someone wanted them afraid and suspect of each other.  They wanted fear to reign while the perpetrator remained silent and out of sight, unknown—glimpses of his stooges who offered their own description of their boss when questioned didn’t help either.  There was only one way to fight this villain.  Unity and a few well-placed hits of decimation would send them running.
“All right, now that I have your attention, “Gill began.  “Let’s get down to business.”

The scraping of chairs sounded as all present retook their seats.  Quiet regained its priority status as gazes once again fell on Gill.  He swallowed twice, wet his lips, and began calling each council member by name for their vote.  Rachel hastily scribbled each name and vote as she walked toward him.   Her vote along with his would make or break their decision on what came next.

Gill called out the last member’s name.  Rachel recorded their vote.  She slid the pad across the table to him.  Her vote lay halfway down the page.  Gill looked up.  Her gaze met his.  She nodded almost imperceptibly.  He looked away.  His vote mattered regardless of the count on the pad.  A unified Talbot’s Peak wasn’t putting up with shit from anyone or anything-shape shifter or some tinkered with amalgamation.

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

Happy weekend Gang!

Looks like our serial continues with our Peakites ready to wage all out war if necessary.  A preemptive strike appears to be happening.  Who's heading to the Turkles for the bazooka?

We continue to slowly mend and heal here at the Spice Homestead.  More doctors appointments and follow up are happening.  All is good.  We're making sure good health and balance return to all of us.
Stay safe as these storms pound us.  A new cold wave is going to hit the Mid-Atlantic in the next few days.  Severe weather is predicted.  Get your supplies and home ready.  Be safe!
Keep a few good books close by to share with your loves and spice!  Happy reading everyone!

Until next week,
Solara

No Boy's Allowed

Smoke puffed from his human nostrils as Erol watched his fair love and her friend scurry around her abode packing clothes for a trip to Las Vegas of all places.  Why would his Greely choose to go somewhere dubbed “Sin City” when she could be with him?  “Why?”

“Why what, Erol?” She all but huffed at him as she gathered her toiletries.

“Why do you think to go to a place of sin with her?” Erol pointed to the woman currently picking her way through Greely’s overabundance of footwear. 

“Her, has a name, Slimey.”

Erol glared at the arrant camel with the smirk on her face.  She and his Fair one had been trying to change what they call “his sexist ways” since the beginning of their time together.  He didn’t think he was a sexist.  He didn’t think women weren’t bright.  His Greely was one smart lady.  So was Karma.  He worried not that they could be talked into harm or out of their knickers, but he did fret that they could be overpowered by any number of ruffians. 

If he had a hope of winning this battle he needed to guard his words.

“Why do you venture to a dangerous city with Karma rather than going to this Hardly Plotter world thing with me?”

“Hardly Plo…, Erol I think you mean Harry Potter.”

“Yes, fine, that.  Come with me.  I think they have my cousin chained to their roof and I must free him.”

Greely looked at him as though he had spent too much time underwater without replenishing his air supply before a loud gasping laugh burst from her lips.  Karma rolled on the floor, no sound escaping.

“Oh Erol, that’s not a real dragon.  It’s like a sculpture.”

“It breathes fire.”

“Animatronics… a mechanical sculpture.”

“Oh.” Why in the world would they have a reproduction of his cousin on the top of a building in a children’s fun park? “Fine.  Come with me then to verify it is a reproduction of my irresponsible cousin and then we will fly to Britain and find him so that I might scorch his arse and bring him back to Talbot’s Peak.  He clearly needs a keeper.”

“Erol, this is a girl’s weekend.  We’re going to have a spa day, drink, dance, take in a show and gamble.  No boys allowed.”

“Then it is good for us both, Fair one,” he said, crowding her closer to the wall. “That I am not a boy, but a full grown man.”

“Yes, well, yes…Erol,” she gasped into his ear as he dived into the smooth skin below her ear.  Her moans encouraged him.  He grabbed the backs of her thighs and hefted her up, wrapping her long legs around his hips as he ground himself against her softness.

“Okay, wait,” Greely’s sassy camel friend pushed her way almost between Erol and his mate, forcing him to set down his precious load.  “Break it up you two.”

She clearly did not worry for her safety.

“Erol, if we go to Vegas without you, are you going to follow us anyway?”

“Of course.  My mate must be protected.”

“Erol!” Greely squealed. “It’s a girl’s weekend.  I’ll be okay.”

“Gree, let’s face it, he’s coming whether you like it or not so let’s make the best of it. To be honest, I’ve always wanted to get my hands on a wand of my own and the sweet lovin’ of a dragony Brit.”

“What about Vegas? I thought this was a shake it don’t break it girls get-away?  Do you not want to go any longer?”

“Oh no, we’re still going there, but now it’s going to be a girls gone wild weekend…nudity optional and we’ll have our big strong protector to keep the skeezers away.  Then we’ll take the dragon express to Hardly Plotter and across the pond.”

Erol should have wondered what he’d gotten himself when Karma finished her speech, but he was still stuck on nudity optional.  “There will be NO nudity, Fair one.  Unless you are alone with me.”

“Don’t be a killjoy, slimey.”  Karma poked him in the chest before crossing her arms and tapping her finger to her chin.  “So, do you have a cute dragon saddle?  And where exactly do I put my luggage?”
~~~

So Erol, Greely and Karma kind of took over my brain this week and also my post.  Erol has been crusing the internet of late and happened upon the pictures of the new Harry Potter World in Florida.  I kind of wish Greely hadn't told him the dragon was not real...I can just see him scaling the building to "have a little talk" with his cousin.  LOL

Have a great weekend!
Serena

Running With It

You can blame/thank Pat for this little bit of flash fiction. It came to me after reading her post on Monday.

~ Rebecca

She was tiny, cute, and nothing but trouble. At least, that's what Myra kept telling herself. She'd read every self-help book she could find on the internet about positive re-enforcement. You are what you believe you are. People will treat you the way you project yourself. Picture yourself as you want others to see you. Fake it until you make it.
Yeah, none of that really worked.
To be honest, Myra wasn't entirely sure she had workable material. She was short. She had been told several times that she was adorable in a gawky nerd girl sort of way. And she was a bit clumsy and did tend to be getting into scrapes all the time, usually in ways that were a bit humiliating. The problem was that she was having a hard spinning that into something vaguely attractive. Maybe she just wasn't faking it hard enough.
Time to try being hot, young and exciting someplace new, where they didn't automatically pull out a first aid kit as soon as she walked in the door. Fake it 'til ya make it, baby. She still had a couple months until her ten year high school reunion to transform herself from an awkward caterpillar to a glorious butterfly!
Myra peered at the hole-in-the-wall honky tonk bar through the fogged over windows of her Camry warily. They were fogged over because she'd been sitting here in the parking lot, talking herself into giving this one more try for the last forty-five minutes. I wasn't going so well. Maybe she should go back to her usual bar. Surely they wouldn't actually pull out the first aide kit again.
It wasn't like it was her fault that someone had needed a butterfly bandage every time she visited. She had only been at the Bozeman Bar and Grill for fifteen minutes when those drunk tourists got into an argument that resulted in a broken beer bottle and a slashed palm. She hadn't even talked to them, for crying out loud! And no way could Hank, the bar's owner pin that bar fight the month before on her.
Fine, she thought. This bar in Talbot's Peak would probably be much better anyway. For starters, it wasn't owned by her sister's ex-high school flame. Why, she'd be willing to bet that no one person here had ever even heard of Myra Mazeltov! With that though firmly fixed in her mind, Myra opened the door of her car and stepped out.
Right into the path of a rampaging mastodon.
As she sat quietly sobbing in the back of an ambulance while a totally hunky EMT used a whole box of butterfly bandages to close up the multiple cuts in her scalp, Myra had to admit that maybe she was the one to blame for all her misfortune. After all, only she could get run over by an extinct species of pachyderm in the parking lot of a bar in Montana...