Tuesday, March 8, 2011

The Shapeshifting Chihuahua as Villain



Mad as a March Hare *greetings”, shapeshifter lovers. It’s that time of year, and Spring is less than two weeks away. I see the yard bunnies gamboling about, and no doubt, they are creating baby bunnies.
~~~

This past week I received an unexpected gift, one we authors excitedly jump and down for in giddy-landia. Our very own Serena Shay wrote an Author Discovery for my futuristic erotic romance, MURDER BY HAIR SPRAY IN GARDENIA, NEW ATLANTIS.

I’m going to share it near the end of this post. Never fear.

However, while my heroine, Sheriff Kalypso, and my hero, Zryphus, are not official shapeshifters, the starring villain is, and so are some of the secondary characters.

When it first emerged in my writerly mind that the serial killer was a Chihuahua shapeshifter... well, it struck me as deliciously bizarre. I mean, a Chihuahua. Yes, they can be fearsome attackers for their size. In fact, I’ve read where burglars fear small yappy dogs, especially Poodles and Chihuahuas, more than most breeds.

Still... an adorable, put-him-in-your-bag Chihuahua?

But there he was before my mind’s eye, looking smugly dapper as a Southern gentleman... and, by that certain gleam in his eye, I knew he was also diabolically psychopathic.

So, how is it in the year, 2051, there is a shapeshifting dog capable of turning into a serial killer? Here’s a bit of back story.

Picture this scenario, if you will...

It’s been a rainy weekend. The sun has finally broken through the clouds. The birds are chirping. You step outside to take out the trash, or to simply enjoy the beauties of nature... and there he is. Near your doorstep.

Drenched, shivering, and so tiny, he gazes at you with pleading brown eyes. A Chihuahua. Maybe, he even looks like the tan-coated, “Yo Quiero” Taco Bell Chihuahua. And you always were gooey-heart fond of that little critter.

He’s wearing no collar. No way to ID him at the moment. He looks hungry, pathetically in need. He’s shivering so hard you wonder why his itsy bitsy bones aren’t rattling... you call to him... eagerly he comes to you... you pick him up and coo sweetly...

But... what if... he’s been designed to be the perfect spy... and you’re the target...

WHAT IF... 40 years earlier... on March 7, 2011.
~~~

Shapeshifting Infiltrator

Infiltrating, it’s a specialty of mine. I come by it naturally. Though, my talent has been honed to a laser-like precision.

Once I present my face to the biometric scanner, I adjust the Level Six security badge filched from the woman I am impersonating -- using her mannerisms, of course.

No worries, said woman is now on a planet in a nearby solar system. She is luxuriating at a resort-like, interplanetary trade center. Men interested in purchasing a bride with her charms will bid for her, and, as they say, the rest of the story is a ‘happily ever after’. That is, if you revel in carnal pleasures.

Careful to stay in tune with the woman’s energy matrix, I glance around the waiting room, as if it’s all too familiar. It is standard for many of the underground compounds where advanced experimentation, especially genetic manipulation, takes place on a humongous, mind-blowing scale.

Why am I doing this? My shapeshifting kind needs to know, if we are to survive and prosper. Also, you can imagine the market for this type of information. It brings in those pots of gold. And silver.

Hearing the twelve-foot thick door open with my inner animal ears, I remain seated, and smooth my uniform skirt with one gloved hand. Inside, ‘the game’ thrills through me. The hunt is on, and I am the one being chased.

He doesn’t speak as I rise, the large bull of a man who is likely a clone of a WWII General. In fact, we will not converse in any way.

The woman officer I impersonate has the ability to mind-record her experience, then write a report for her White House boss. No, no one in residence who is a politician. The ‘elected’ are kept out of the loop.

According to protocol I am to walk beside him, but two inches behind, so I am able to follow his lead. With a piercing stare, he watches me approach.

I wouldn’t be at all surprised if his gut is warning him about me. Still, he smartly turns on his heel, and we move into a corridor that has been designed to accommodate beings up to twenty feet in height.

The white-blue glare of light not only reveals the finest detail of an individual’s features, but sterilizes. No germs allowed here.

Sooner than I expected we enter a dome-shaped room of mammoth proportions. The rounded ceiling allows for perfect light distribution, as well as distribution of any released aerosols.

It takes several blinks of my eyes before I comprehend what I’m viewing. Tanks, like good-sized aquariums, hold liquid-suspended bodies of Chihuahuas. Different colors, all different sizes. Stunned is not a strong enough word for the emotion I suppress.

Slowly, we walk by tank after tank, and it becomes obvious human genetics have been introduced. Hands instead of paws. Skin instead of a dog’s coat. The front half is Chihuahua while the back half is humanoid. Then, the reverse.

I cringe inside, but keep my impassive demeanor. What is the precise goal? It certainly doesn’t appear to be only placing the brain of a human inside a Chihuahua.

My question is answered as I look ahead at a semicircle of giant tanks. They hold the dead bodies of a man-dog creature in different stages of a shapeshift.

The obvious hits me. Why a Chihuahua? Having no time to consider answers, I refocus on the horror-sad creatures suspended in some type of blue-tinted gel. At least, they have escaped through death.

What I see next, though, in hanging translucent tubes. They have not escaped. Obviously, the human-looking males are biologically alive. Their bodies are slender in stature, and I sense they are primitive shapeshifters.

This is born out in a gruesome demonstration. One of the tubes is electrically charged. White arcs of plasma lightning spiral rapidly up and down, reminding me of a scene out of Frankenstein. Only this is the futuristic version.

Except, it’s occurring now. The man creature comes alive, moving, then writhing. In a process that is painful to watch he gradually shifts into a misshapen dog. It resembles a Chihuahua.

For the barest instant, I lose my connection to the woman officer’s matrix, the energy copy I have made of her that I wear like a garment. My nausea surfaces, and I taste it.

Slipping back into character, I sweep my gaze over the twenty tubes, and memorize every detail as the officer would have done for her report. If I’ve failed due to my momentary lapse -- if I’m about to get caught, well, there’s no time to worry.

I keep panic from nipping at my heels, and wait on fate’s next move.

With an abrupt turn, the General strides for an exit. Like a programmed robot, I follow, keeping my place beside him. Before I know it, we pass through some type of energy field.

The bright New Mexico sunshine beats down on me a moment later. Before me, thirty feet away, is the black limousine I arrived in, waiting. The driver holds the back door open.

As the General pivots from my side, I hear in a growled whisper, “Whoever you are, you’re damn good.”

I know in that instant, he’s letting me go for reasons of his own. Who says clones don’t have souls? Or...

I move with a military stride toward the limousine, then lower myself within. As we glide through the opening gates, I realize in the time it takes for a trap to snap, that the General is an infiltrator, too. Just not a shapeshifter.

I have a sense he’s a time traveler. But, only as sense.

So, jump for the juicy grapes...that changes my plan of escape. Why endanger a fellow infiltrator?

Closing my eyes, I explain my mission to the Guardian Wind Spirit, and ask for his assistance. Several minutes later, a desert whirlwind arrives out of the blue. Like a mini tornado red dust whips around the limousine, forcing the driver to stop.

I throw off the uniform. With a mischievous grin, I open the door, even though it’s been secured.

Diving outward, I roll. All the while I transform into my furry self.

Free, I race for the nearest cover. It won’t be long. Already, I hear the whir of our clan’s small, phase-shift hovercraft.

Who am I?

My kind may be living next door to you right now. For sport, we may peer at you from a dense thicket, knowing you can’t harm us. Or, we might lead you on a merry chase.

Have you noticed a sly smile flitting over your neighbor’s features? Perhaps, a flirtatious, even vixenish personality?

Some of my kind are cooking enthusiasts, specializing in fowl dishes. Chicken, duck, pheasant, squab...turkey and goose... the holidays are always a tummy-filling banquet for us. We laze about the den, the fireplace crackling happily.

Oh, and pudgy pigeons are a favorite food, when we can snatch them unnoticed. If you dare boast, count on family and friends to invite themselves over for a savory roast and a wine toast.

My kind are fox humanoids, as old a species as humans. Yes ~grins~ why not admit it up front? We are only cunning and sneaky when it’s a necessity, or to our advantage. Often in these times.

The difference between us and the human population today, we were never genetically altered to serve a master. My kind never lost the ability to shapeshift because of cruel genetic interference, as was done to humans after the fall of Atlantis. Since Earth became our home, age upon age ago, we have preserved the ability to change forms at will.
~~~~~~

AUTHOR DISCOVERY ~ Murder by Hair Spray in Gardenia, New Atlantis


An Author Discovery by Serena Shay

What happens when two strong-willed characters collide? A whole lotta alpha goodness!

Kalypso Sun Wing and Zryphus Vasquoz are sure to delight readers with their sassy interactions with one another and their "my way or the highway" attitudes.

Kalypso Sun Wing likes to think she's as hard-headed a leader as they come, what with her command position during the conflicts and her general dislike of Federal, but really she is a mushy-gushy marshmallow on the inside. She protects her friends, her society and the ones she loves.

Zryphus, whew, what can I say about Zryphus? He's smart and a male in all the wonderful ways men can be male. He comes on strong and stays that way, proving to Kalypso that he's here to stay and that she can trust her heart with him.

I love the way Ms. Kougar has taken a real historical event and injected it into a fabulously fictional future. The mixing of the two era's offers, to this readers way of thinking, an innocence to a fast paced, post war society.

Don't miss Murder by Hair Spray in Gardenia, New Atlantis - New Atlantis Trilogy, Book 1. You'll want to be ready for the next installment on the newly re-risen continent!

Serena Shay

Author of the top selling, THE CHALLENGE ~ serenashay.com ~ shapeshifterseductions.blogspot.com ~
~~~~~~

Murder by Hair Spray in Gardenia, New Atlantis
by Savanna Kougar

Blurb:

In 2051, Atlantis is no longer a legend. The risen antediluvian land has been colonized by rebels who battled for freedom against the Global Elite.

New Atlantis Sheriff, Kalypso Sun Wing, has survived the sterile fifties' suburbs, the revolutionary turbulence of the sixties and the disco guru seventies. After the suicide of the man she loved, Kalypso barely survived the designer eighties or the fast-forward nineties. Watching Atlantis rise from the ocean she realized her destiny.

Zerculeon, Zryphus Vasquoz, chose an enforcement career with Earth's Federal Union. He is fascinated with primitive worlds and wants to make his own way outside the family heritage. Once he gets an eyeful of the beautiful Sheriff, as they investigate the Hair Spray serial murder, Zryphus knows he's found his one woman, despite her cold disinterest.

When the Hair Spray Killer stalks Kalypso, Zryphus won't let her out of his sight, or his bed. They realize those controlling the Killer's leash will use every evil to win world dominion.
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Available at ~ bookstrand.com/murder-by-hair-spray-in-gardenia-new-atlantis ~ bookstrand.com/savanna-kougar ~
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The Kougar’s news ~

Just Another ParaNormal Halloween, an anthology, received a 5 star review from Linda at Goodreads~ goodreads.com/book/show/9476103-just-another-paranormal-halloween

What Linda said:
Just Another Paranornomal Halloween Is A Collection Of Great Stories By Eight Authors That Combined Their Tales In One Awesome Good Read! From Pixies And Wolf Shifters Falling In Love, To Vampires And Tiger Shifters To Witches And Necromancy, There Is Something For Every Taste! This Is A Chance To Read An Author's Style Of Writing And Enjoy Their Books. I Just Loved Every Story That I Read And I Laughed At Ms. M'Lady's Wit And Cried At Ms. Phelan's Story Of Lovers Separated By Fates.

THE TIGER’S MASQUERADE is my erotic romance short story. Here’s the blurb ~

Stacy wasn’t looking for a tiger-man to erotically and exotically fill her tank , then steal her heart. That is, until the Halloween ‘Call of the Wild Masquerade’ ball. But, what kind of tiger does she have by the tail?

Zyrru wasn’t looking for a human woman to un-tame his fiercest passions, and alter his royal life forever. After all, he’s only vacationing on Earth, and is almost engaged to The Princess. But her rosefire scent is irresistible.

Available at ~ mojocastle.com/ParaHalloween.html ~
~~~

HAVE A WONDERFUL SHAPESHIFTING MARCH

Savanna

Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance ~

7 comments:

Serena Shay said...

Oooh will we see more of the fox humanoids in your next New Atlantis installment?? ~thumbs up, wicked grin~

Rebecca Gillan said...

A chiuahua serial killer called "the hairspray killer?" That sounds like a rolicking good read!

Serena Shay said...

Oh, it was Rebecca. ;)

Savanna Kougar said...

Serena, that would be a fun addition to the next installment, futuristic-definitely.

Course, Talbot's Peak might 'benefit' too.

Savanna Kougar said...

Rebecca, there were certainly rollicking scenes, especially with chihuahuas.

Pat C. said...

I have a theory that Chihuahuas are actually Hellhounds and when they cross over to Earth they get compressed so you have all the evil of Hell in a 3-pound body. Chihuahua shapeshifter as villain? Totally plausible.

Geez, Sav, that imagery in the lab was scary. Have you been reading Stephen King?

Talbot's Peak could definitely use a few "foxy" visitors. Louie knows how to cook up a squab just the way they like it.

Savanna Kougar said...

Pat, now that's a fabtastic story idea... Chihuahua as compressed Hellhound. I have a Halloween pic someone took of their Chihuahua mix dressed up to be a Hellhound.

Pat, nope. Not reading the King. I remote viewed it, you could say.

Oh, that's right. The foxy kind would relish Louie's cooking.