Friday, April 20, 2012

Earth Day Blog Hop

Jada Bi’sone sat at the bar, picking her nails, and waiting her turn. Each person in the lineup had picked a be-bopping, Britney blah of a song. Not her though, she been practicing for weeks to perfect her favorite song for tonight's karaoke madness.

I Feel the Earth Move by the musical genius of Carole King. Jada knew the song forwards and back having listened to it for the better part of her formative years. She'd waited so long for the chance to sing this song in public. What better a time than as an Earth day tribute?

What she hadn't taken into consideration was the knee-weakening, gut-freezing fear she suffered at the thought of standing in front of this liquor laced room and singing, quite literally, for her supper. Dante was offering the best performer of the evening, tickets +1 for a complementary dinner and dance at the pleasure club. A win tonight would get her feet in the door and hopefully her nerves in check. It was rumored there were places in the pleasure club so erotic one needed days to experience them. Good thing she’d been saving up her time off.

The hyenas at the table to her left cackled and hooted at bombshell number twelve, who sang the same song as three, five, seven, and ten. This group of mental minors worried her more than anyone else in the bar. So far every performer had been blonde, busty and weighed, at most, a buck five—she could just about imagine the collective hyena thoughts when she schlepped her mousey brown, kinda saggy, a buck five times two or maybe closer to three, body, up those stairs. Boos would be the least painful of what she knew was coming.

"Excuse me, beautiful. Are you getting ready to go on stage?"

Chills raced across Jada’s skin as the deep voice whispered next to her ear. She looked to the side, away from the voice, making sure she wasn't intercepting a message for someone else before turning herself into the awesome sound.


"I – I'm sorry, do I know you?”

Not yet Dom thought, aroused by her thickly lashed milk chocolate eyes and her obviously submissive nature. He'd stopped by the bar tonight looking only for a glass of aged whiskey not a date, but as it always seem to happen the best things came to those who weren't looking. "Alas, we have not yet been introduced. My name is Dom Beauregard Phant."

"Dom Beau?”

The beautiful creature had yet to take the hand he’d extended. Good for her, she was cautious; life had trained her to be safe. He would train her to find safety at his touch. "Yes, my parents had a twisted sense of humor. Maybe you've met my sister Ella Phant."

"No I haven't, met her that is, but I've heard she's a wonderful person. My name is, ah, Jada and yes I had planned on singing."

She touched his hand so gently he wasn't sure she’d really done it until he brought her fingers to his lips. Her soft gasp was nearly covered by the calling of her name. "Break a leg, beautiful Jada.”

Her cheeks blushed prettily and he couldn't help but wonder, as she walked on stage, how her lower set would fare after his hand set them aglow.

"Hi, I'm Jada, and I'll be singing…”

“Bring back the blondes!” The loathsome hyena and his cackling crowd needed a lesson in manners.

“Be quiet and sit down,” Dom growled, infusing a deliberate threat into his voice which sent the men back into their seats.

"… I feel the Earth move."

As the music started its sassy piano intro he could see Jada’s nerves flare. The near constant laughing and joking of the idiots he now stood behind didn't help.

"I feel the earth move under my feet…”

"That's because you've got a Buffalo butt.”

The sound of a hyena's head meeting the hard wood table and the satisfactory crunching of a now broken nose stopped his lovely lady from singing. "You will stop squealing so that I may hear my lovely lady’s song. DJ, start the music over. Jada love, take it from the top.”




Laurie gazed out at the garden through Digger’s kitchen window. “It’s working,” she said.

Behind her, Digger took a pitcher of iced tea out of the fridge. “Huh? The what now?”

“The garden. You planted it to attract rabbits, right? Well, it’s working. There’s a whole—herd? Flock? What do you call a bunch of rabbits?”

“Breakfast, lunch and dinner.” Digger darted to her side to peer out the window. His enthusiasm left him in a blast of profanity. “Scat.”

“What is it?” Laurie said, but Digger had dashed out the back door. Puzzled, Laurie followed.

She was surprised to see the rabbits still in the garden. She’d expected them to bolt in all directions when Digger burst outside. This must be a really brazen bunch, or really stupid to hang around with a wolf eyeing them up. Laurie debated going back inside. If a bunny massacre was in the offing, she didn’t want to see it.

Digger didn’t lunge into the garden with jaws snapping, as she expected. He stood with his arms folded over his chest. “Okay, how many of you freeloaders are shifters?”

For answer, the whole bunch shifted. A dozen naked dirt-smudged men and women now sat in the garden. Most still nibbled on the carrots, radishes and lettuce they’d been snacking on when Digger came out. None displayed even a touch of guilt.

Digger shook his head and sighed. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. C’mon, guys. What does that sign say?”

“What sign?” the wererabbits chorused.

Laurie edged forward to stand beside Digger. “They’re shifters?”

“They’re moochers, is what they are. Those veggies are for the real rabbits. The ones I eat.”

“We’re trying to help them,” a busty blonde proclaimed. “Every carrot we eat keeps it out of some real rabbit’s hands.”

“Real rabbits don’t have hands. Just shifters with sticky fingers in other people’s gardens.”

The blonde looked around for a distraction. Her gaze hit on Laurie. “Hey, is that your human girlfriend? She’s cute.”

“Nice try, Lorelei. Now pack up your buddies and vamoose.”

“You realize you’re interrupting a solemn religious ceremony?”

Digger shook his head again. “Do I even want to know?”

“Earth Day,” Laurie said.

Digger stared at her. So did the rabbits. “It makes sense,” Laurie went on. “Earth is sacred to rabbits. It provides their food and their homes.” She flicked a wry look at Digger. “It gives them a place to hide from hungry wolves.”

“Yes. Exactly,” the blonde said eagerly, hopping up and down. The action created a seismic reaction in her generous rack. The males watched with interest. The big buck beside her hooked his arm around her waist and glowered at the others. Not to be outdone, Digger slipped his arm around Laurie.

The blonde stopped bouncing. The males made rude noises and were shushed by their mates. “You’re up on your shifter lore,” the blonde said to Laurie.

“I’ve got a bear for a brother-in-law. He’s walking me through the finer points.”

“Yeah, it’s Earth Day and we’re all one and it’s the Peaceable Kingdom and all that scat,” Digger said. “Look. I like the earth as much as the next wolf. Maybe more. They don’t call me Digger for nothing. That doesn’t mean I celebrate with rabbits, unless they’re on a plate with mint sauce. Isn’t there some all-you-can-eat salad bar you can invade?”

“They threw us out,” the blonde’s big buck explained.

“Anyway, this is better. More authentic,” the blonde said, patting the ground she sat on. “And it smells so nice. You’re composting?”

“Oh yeah. Rabbit bones and hides. If you’re not out of here in five minutes I’m adding you to the—” He broke off to stare at Laurie. “What are you doing?”

“Joining the party.” Laurie tugged her blouse over her head, then wriggled out of her slacks. “I can’t get down and dirty with these on. What? I’m hungry, and the veggies are almost gone.”

Instantly the rabbits set about gathering up fresh salad fixings to present to her. “Gifts of the Mother,” the blonde said. “By the way, that’s something else we do to celebrate Earth Day.”

“Fertility ritual. Got it.”

“You’re okay with it?” This came from an astonished Digger. “I mean, you’re human. I thought you’d be more … prudy.”

Laurie reached behind herself and undid her bra. “Did I mention I used to be a nudist? I don’t go skyclad all that often. Montana’s too chilly for that. But I’ll risk goose bumps for a good cause.” She let her bra drop to the ground. The rabbits applauded. “If you promise to keep me warm, Mr. Wolf Fur Coat.”

Digger licked his lips. “Hold that thought. No way I’m eating veggies, even for Earth Day. I think I’ve got some leftover barbecue in the fridge. And nobody mentions this to the pack, okay?” he added to the rabbits. “If word of this gets out, I’m toast. Now, who wants iced tea?”

Every hand went up, including Laurie’s. Grumbling under his breath, Digger went into the house.
Posted by Pat C.


Tongson watched as the group of school aged children settled around the campfire. Several stood out as their distinct Native American features indicated their heritage. Inuit and other North American tribes lived within the newly designated lands close to the Canadian border. A new reservation set up to promote green living and communal substance for everyone.
The tribal elders had asked him to come and speak to their youth. Rumors and gossip flourished outside the reservation. Ones that walked with the animals and shared their habitat lived alongside the tribal community. Rather than fear those different from themselves, the council asked for help in understanding their neighbors.
Tongson cleared his throat and stood. He nodded to Chief North Star and Shaman Wild Pony. Octavia sat with Mickey and Night Hawk nearby. Mickey held her daughter, Tiffany. Night Hawk rocked the wooden cradle carefully carved by Thomas before he left for Talbot’s Peak. His son slumbered peacefully within. On Octavia’s lap lay their daughter. Nestled in the crook of her left arm slept their son.
Quiet and peace filled the night air. The clouds slipped away revealing perhaps thousands of stars. Tongson raised his hand and pointed to the Big Dipper.
“Many moons ago, our forefathers and mothers walked the land in search of a home. A place of acceptance and abundance. Just as your parents and grandparents came here seeking a place to call home.”
He glanced around the fire. Many parents had joined their children. Eyes watched him from small and large faces. Some nodded at his words. Tongson smiled and spread his hands.
“In the beginning, there was enough for all. None lacked or wanted. Animals shared with their human brethren and vice versa. Until a few became greedy. They pillaged and took more than they could use or needed. Animals perished from lack of food and humans rampant desire to consume without thought to what the future held.”
Chief North Star rose, standing next to Tongson. “My parents came from the South wanting nothing more than a job and money to buy food to feed their children and a place to house them. Many mocked them and turned them away.”
Shaman Wild Pony stood, tossing his head back he neighed like his namesake. Gasps sounded and smiles warmed faces that watched him intently. “My past mingles with both. The stars are where it is said much of life originated. We are on a star that others out there wonder about as we wonder about the stars. We return to them to find an unknown future.”
Tongson smiled as he sat. “My medicine name is Spirit Bear. My alter ego pulses within me and guides my life. Each full moon I wonder the forests communing with my animal brethren. They seek to live with us and share this star we call home. Our Earth. We must care for our home.”
Chief North Star and Shaman Wild Pony dropped to the ground on either side of Spirit Bear. Each grasped the other’s hand and raised them above their shoulders. They spoke in unison.
“As brothers and sisters, we all must care for our home. We need the animals as much as they need us. The plants and trees depend on us. They clean our air and feed off our carbon dioxide. If we produce too much, we all die. Balance is the key to everything. Moderation is essential to all we do and envision. Taking more than our share leaves others in need. There is enough to go around. Each of us is important. Without the others, we cease to exist. We are one community. Animal, man, woman, and plant bring us together and bond us in unique ways.”
The three lowered their hands. Each slowly rose, embracing the other. Hands shot into the air and voices rang out with questions and greetings. Tongson’s smiled grew as he griped Octavia’s shoulder. A new generation appeared ready to accept those different amongst them as well as their stewardship for their shining star called Earth.

posted by Solara Gordon
“Earth Day is a day early each year on which events are held worldwide to increase awareness and appreciation of the Earth's natural environment. Earth Day is now coordinated globally by the Earth Day Network,[1] and is celebrated in more than 175 countries every year.”
“Clarissa, I think you need to take this back,” Tim said, trying very hard not to sound angry.
“Why, Mr. Strigidae?”
“Because this is word-for-word a direct quote from Wikipedia. Which makes it plagiarism since you were told to write an essay on Earth Day, not copy and paste one,” Tim replied.

“Really? How did you know,” the flighty girl asked.
“Other than the fact every other girl in your click turned it in?” Tim asked, now failing to contain his natural sarcasm.
“Oh,” Clarissa said. “So I still, like, get partial credit right? I mean you obviously can’t give me an A or nothing—even though it’s clearly well written—“
“You get a zero for this assignment. Just like everyone else who didn’t bother to do it.”
“That’s it for this class. Everyone have a safe weekend!” Tim said over the shuffle of high school seniors evacuating his 8th period science class. He didn’t have to fake that bit of cheer at all, he noticed. Gods, what made him think teaching high school science would be a good career move? Oh, yeah. Because he needed to eat and it left him free every summer.
“You ready, Mr. Science Man?”
Tim smiled but didn’t turn around.
“That depends, my Lady of English,” he said with a smile. “Are all the kiddies gone?”
“They are indeed. Let’s fly!”
This time he did turn around, and just in time to watch Wynona, the sweet little golden eagle shifter who taught 9th grade English, drop the wrap dress shed been wearing. And she hadn’t been wearing any underwear under it, either, he saw. A slow smile spread over her face as Tim struggle to get his jeans off past the rising bulge she’d caused in his pants.
“Ah, ah, ah! None of that till we get there, my bookishly sex owl!” she laughed. In a flash, she shifted into her animal form and was winging her way out the window he’d left propped open. Time grinned a remarkably wolfish smile and shifter into his owl form to follow her. This was going to be the best Earth Day weekend ever!
Posted by Rebecca L Gillan

The White Wolf and His Beautiful Godiva

Their howls split the night air. Wyatt Silvertongue and his white wolf shapeshifter pack sang in tune with Mother Earth. They celebrated her time of Spring regrowth, and her time of celestial regeneration.

Like radio frequencies, their singing howls soared Gaia's essence toward the starry heavens, and into the higher realm. The angelic ones listened, then flowed a blanket of healing vibrations over the Great Mother.

Wyatt observed the golden and silvery rays of light whenever they paused. With the wisdom of his ancestors bred and born into him and his pack, they knew at this time of the 2012 Awakening, that sounds -- music, drumming, tones, songs -- were magickal.

Every living being on Gaia needed the sacred energies of sound to ascend their natures, to build their lives anew. The fifth dimension had arrived.

With the magick thrumming through his veins like sweet and raging fire, Wyatt threw his muzzle higher. He sang in harmony with his pack mates, as he did when they played their trippy rock 'n roll tunes on stage at the Interspecies Pleasure Club.

Their wolfen-style music had proved to be so wildly popular, they'd been hired long-term for the Kaleidoscope Party Hardy room at the Club. The regular gig had come at the perfect time since it gave them a chance to put down roots.

Wyatt listened to their howls reverberate around them. He heard the echoes ping off the distant mountain range, causing the enormous stone walls to hum in concert. Using their great power, the granite sang joyous notes along with them.

Once they finished their songs, as one, the pack gazed toward the heavenly body, Venus. Earth's neighboring planet shone with a blazing brilliance Wyatt had never witnessed in his long lifetime.

From atop the ancient plateau, he stood in reverent and alert silence enjoying the night sounds. The brushing winds provided his nostrils with a feast of smells, and once again, Wyatt gave thanks for the lands he now roamed at will with his extended family.

A lone horse's drumming hoof beats caught his attention, and Wyatt pierced the darkness with his kind's telescopic eyesight. The horse raced with a wild stride over the short-grass prairie. Yet, Wyatt knew, both by scent and sound, the mare carried a rider.

Curiosity hummed his blood, and Wyatt focused on the rider. He sat on his haunches fast, astounded by what he saw. The woman rode naked.

Wyatt stared at her athletic and curvaceous figure, at her long hair streaming behind her. He howled a wolf whistle.


"Sing the Earth electric, wolves," Zeanna whispered. She paused an instant listening, appreciating, then leapt astride her mare.

Moon Shadow loved to run the wild animal trail through the long stretch of prairie as much as Zeanna did, always dancing in her stall, and flashing her dark eyes in anticipation. So far this Spring, Zeanna had been able to get away with their weekly untamed run -- with riding Lady Godiva style.

Lessening her chances of being discovered, Zeanna rode at night. She used her second sight to make certain the trail was clear. Besides, the nighttime called to her, made her feel deliciously alive.

Even now as she leaned over the mare's neck, and squeezed with her thighs, her magickal energies rose, crackling around her like an ethereal form of static electricity.

Eager, pulling against the bit, Moon Shadow took off and sprinted onto the trail. Within a few strides, the petite mare ran full out, and Zeanna felt glorious, her spirit unbound.

As they raced with the prairie wind, as the cool air whipped her bare body, Zeanna sizzled with excitement, and burned with freedom -- almost unbearably burned.

She became aware about halfway along the trail that someone with paranormal abilities watched her. The sensation scorched like a laser aimed at her back yet did not immediately alarm her.

Once she knew the trail remained clear, Zeanna cast her psi-gaze in a wide circle, searching. She had no care if 'whomever' merely observed, and meant no harm. But if...

"White wolf," she spoke, only her lips moving. In that instant, Zeanna realized the shapeshifter and his pack had been the ones howling the sacred tribute to Mother Earth -- the wolves raising Gaia's planetary frequencies to the Divine.

The thought thrilled through Zeanna, and she considered making contact. However, as usual, her wary nature intervened.

After all, how many of her ancestresses had been burned at the stake for real? Or their lives destroyed by other means as vile. As well, humankind were not the only enemies her people faced daily.

What the persecutors had not known, did not realize now -- that with each of their heinous crimes, the next generation of her supernatural kind only grew in power -- in their psychic strengths. This ability to protect themselves was part of their ancient genetic code.

Zeanna grinned at the white wolf's appreciation of her naked assets. After mentally wishing him well, she shielded herself against his amazingly keen eyesight.


Tossing off his guitar with a carelessness unusual for him, Wyatt ignored the break-time banter of his band mates. He went on the hunt, his nose telling him the woman he called 'The Beautiful Godiva' had just walked into the Kaleidoscope room.

For weeks now, she haunted him during his waking hours and in his nightly dreams. With increasing frequency, she possessed every moment of his dreams.

Often Wyatt awoke howling in frustration, his cock so hard and miserable he would dive into the chilly waters of the large rushing stream close to his bedroom.

Her cinnamon-fiery scent guided him, and Wyatt soon spotted his Godiva standing at the far end of the bar. About to take a sip of her drink, she lowered it slowly as their gazes collided.

He'd been aware that she'd used a witch's magick to block his gaze. He hadn't known precisely why, other than he was a peeping-tom wolf, and proud of it in her case.

Wyatt halted instinctively knowing she would bolt if he approached too fast. As they continued gazing at each other, he watched wariness cloud her crystalline eyes -- eyes the color of the purple Iris blooming around the remote ranch house he and his pack mates owned outside of Talbot's Peak.

No one, nothing else existed when she took a teasing sip of her drink. With her steps slow and careful, she moved toward him. Alpha by nature, Wyatt leashed himself tightly, though the effort cost him.

A fine sweat broke out on his brow, and he reminded his stud cock to deflate and wait. That, or forfeit any chance of ever mounting her.

"White wolf," she softly intoned, once she stood before him. Her gaze sparkled with naughtiness. "Did you enjoy my ride?"

"I dream of you," he paused, "riding."

For excruciating moments, his little Godiva witch rubbed the rim of her glass across her lovely lips. She sipped, taking her time. When her gaze locked with his again, she sexily crooned, "Should I tell you my name?"

"Wyatt, Wyatt Silvertongue. Now that I've told you my name--" He stopped as her expression became frozen, her gaze guarded.

"Is something wrong?" Everything inside him plummeted at the thought that she would refuse him, flee him. Yet Wyatt knew he would pursue his little red-haired Godiva to the ends of the Earth, and beyond, until she agreed to ride him naked. Only him.

"Mate," she finally murmured. "It is written... but I'm not ready."

Wyatt reached out easing his hand onto her elbow when she would turn away. "You will be, my beautiful Godiva. Once you hear me play."

As he brought her beside him, she didn't resist. She allowed him to cup her elbow.

"Zeanna... my name." Her voice was all breath and hesitant. "Play well enough, White Wolf, and I may not be able to run from you."

Rejoicing like a prize fool, Wyatt led her toward the small stage, and vowed he would play his guitar as if his life depended on it. Because it did.


Happy Reading!


Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance ~

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