Fat Bastard On A Roll

Sorry this is so late. It's one part I forgot and one part dithering on what to post. This week's snipet is kind of short, but I finally decided you guys needed it so the next few bit make sense. And it didn't make sense to add something else to it to make the post longer. Next week's will be better, I promise.

FYI, last week's Face Book contest had no winner as no one but me posted a caption. Maybe next time. Anyway, here's a peek into the mind of our friendly neighborhood villain!

**********

“Talk to me,” Hamilton, aka ‘the fat Aussie bastard’, grunted into his phone. He said nothing as his underling rattled on about that a bust that went down early this morning. The goddamned Tom Hanson, doggy cop extraordinaire, had been at it again. That made him feel just a tad better about the scene that had unfolded in front of him at the park.

Yeah, Hanson had messed up his first attempt to contact that dingo bitch, but that didn’t mean he’d meant to. Stalking him just to fuck with him after making a bust like this morning’s was just what Hamilton would expect from that holier-than-thou deputy sheriff. Hanson just happening upon the dingo bitch in the park a few hours later might have been suspicious as hell, too, if it weren’t for the fact she was in heat. While there weren’t many shifters who could get in a dingo’s pants, a cop dog like Hanson could. And he’d probably caught her heat musk down town and followed it once he got off work trying to find the bitch-in-heat.

Hamilton cackled gleefully as he hung up the call and switched over to the camera roll on his phone. With the pictures he’d just snapped of doggy cop extraordinaire making out with his drug mule, he might be able to get two dogs with one stone. He’s make sure there was video evidence of the dingo bitch making a drug transfer to someone expendable, then expose her—along with photos of Hanson doing her. Damn, but it was good to be an evil genius!

Wolf Dawg, Bankster Bounty Hunter

Tuesday howls and yowls, shapeshifter lovers.

With the high temps once again taking over my tame prairie this week, I couldn't resist another flash scene set inside the Heavenly Chocolate & Ice Creamery, the new ice cream parlor in Talbot's Peak, Montana.

Alas, the scene refused to end, so I plan to continue it next week.
~~~~~~

Wolf Dawg, Bankster Bounty Hunter

On a mission, two missions in fact, Dawg sauntered inside The Peak's new ice cream parlor. The heels of his biker boots rang as he strode over the real tile floor, and the silver chains jangled similar to spurs. Yep, music to his renegade wolf ears. Not that he wore them when on the hunt in his human form.

Bravado worked with some of his white-collar criminal prey. But stealth was often the name of the capture-game.

In this day of cross, double cross, and triple cross, among the different factions of the bankster gangsters, so far Dawg had managed to deliver the corporate scat with the highest bounties on their well-groomed heads to the mysterious group known as the White Hats. With his rewards paid in gold and silver coin, he'd built a fancy Old West Saloon inside one wing of Dante's Interspecies Pleasure Club.

Dawg added more swagger to his walk, and gave the owner, Kalindi, a wink when she glanced up from making a banana split. Howls and dang, was he ever glad she had customers, most of them the local teenagers.

"Got the goods ready to go, pretty angel?"

"Ready, and waiting, my pickup man," she sang. With an angelic but impish smile, Kalindi beckoned him behind the counter.

Dawg had learned long ago to keep his big paws off another man's woman, but he could never resist charming any female. Their sweetness was just too dang impossible for him and his nose to ignore.

Course, now his nostrils quivered with the scent of her god lover. Scuttlebutt had it Kalindi, who was half goddess, had summoned a rain god. As she'd told Kitty, she'd been concerned about Talbot's Peak, and everyone knew about her good-at-heart nature.

Howls to the Great Wolf Spirit, no doubt, they'd sure needed the rains. Gypsy Red Wolf had been holding rain dances every single day at her favorite forest clearing. Along with a huge ole pack of men, Dawg had licked his chops in enjoyment, watching the uninhibited cavorting of the women. Then he'd joined in.

"Is it you I get to thank for the soakin' in rains we've had lately?" Dawg flashed a smile as he rounded the corner of the counter.

Kalindi flushed red as the cherries in the bowl beside her. She gave him a quick glance, then went back to finishing off the banana split with whipped cream. "I'm just glad the drought is over. Can I fix you something, pickup man?"

"Sure can, sweet angel. Once I get the goods loaded, I'll be ready for one of your hot fudge sundaes."

"Got one with your name on it. Right over here." Kalindi waved toward the freezer section where four sealed, five-gallon buckets of the best ice cream ever, waited to be transported.

Dawg already planned to meet with a whistleblower on the run. His White Hat contact insisted on the ice cream parlor, despite Dawg's objection for the sake of any innocents who might inadvertently get in the way.

He'd been on the verge of leaving his Old West Saloon for Talbot's Peak, when the word had gone out that Dante needed a volunteer for a quick run to the Heavenly Chocolate & Ice Creamery. Now here he was loading the buckets into one of the Club's freezer trucks.

Even with the last minute arrangements, Dawg made certain to arrive extra early. With the ice cream secured, he swung toward the parlor's entrance. His strides rapidly ate up the short distance, and as he held the door open for a family of four, his inner wolf ruff stood on end.

The whistleblower, a woman, was here. Once he entered, Dawg causally moved toward the counter. Acting as if a hot fudge sundae was the only thing on his mind, he propped up a boot, and leaned on his elbow.

Desperation had its own odor. A cat shapeshifter also possessed a unique fragrance, the one now seriously tingling the inside of his nose. The White Hat hadn't divulged that little tidbit of info. Could be, he hadn't known the whistleblower was a shifter. Then again...

From the corner of his eye, Dawg easily spotted the woman. He nearly barked a laugh at her prim uptight appearance, complete with a bun and horn rim glasses. She wore 'I'm vacationing' attire, and devoured a banana split like no other woman he'd ever witnessed.

Fascinated, Dawg angled his body so he could watch her, while still having a direct view of the door. One of those huge flowery tourist bags that could hold everything under the sun leaned against her chair.

"It's her second one," Kalindi whispered close to his ear as she placed his hot fudge sundae on the counter.

"When you get time, make her another banana split on me. Would you, angel girl?"

"You got it, wolf man. Do you want me to serve it to her or do you want to do the honors?"

"Take your time, Kalindi. Bring it to the table whenever you're ready." Dawg picked up his hot fudge sundae. "Time to make my move."

The woman cat shifter, who savored the last bite of whipped cream, then licked her lips feline-style, sat near the back at the table farthest from anyone else. With the gaze of a huntress she eyed his slow approach.

While not petite, she was in no way large, and possessed a daintiness that appealed to Dawg. What he could see of her shapely curves, despite the shapeless clothing she wore, put his cock on alert status.

Howls, given her state of desperation, the last thing she needed was a male befuddled and ruled by lust. Dawg halted, and offered a friendly grin. "Pardon me, miss, you remind me of my cousin, Louisa. She's down Texas way. Lives in Houston."

Tentatively, she offered a small smile, one that froze soon after it formed. Yet, Dawg observed her recognition of the code words he'd used. All while he stared at the unique but beautiful color of her eyes, a champagne gold.

Her features told him the rest of the story, one that threw him for a loop well past the moon. She was Martian. That is, either from Mars, or her ancestors had been Martian. Memories tumbled over themselves in a race that caused him to blink and become rigid for an instant.

Dawg suppressed the total recall of long ago.

"My name is Silkari. I'm afraid I don't know your cousin. If you'd like to join me..." She left the rest unsaid.

Dawg didn't wait for an engraved invitation. He seated himself, and set the drippy hot fudge sundae on the table.

"Are you going to rescue me?" she mouthed.

Gathering his wits, no easy task, Dawg raised a brow. "What am I rescuing you from? Don't worry," he added, "no spy devices are allowed in here. Or in Talbot's Peak."

Skepticism shone in her eyes. Still, she took in a large breath, and released it. He watched her shoulders un-tense.

"Silkari, what a beautiful name." Dawg spoke as she prepared to answer him.

"I...I...my sister was abducted by a white slavery ring. We found her in time, but...well, I decided to get the dirt on the corporation responsible. Because no one believed us -- that it was one of the top corporations...and..." Tears shimmered in her eyes, and Silkari lowered her gaze.

"I understand. Did they know she was a shapeshifter?"

"No, not at first. When they found out, they were going to sell her to an underground lab...oh, god, it was horrible." Silkari still didn't look at him. "Long story short, I posed as a secretary, assistant, whatever, long enough to get all this." She motioned to her bag. "I'd trained as an actress, and thought...but they found out. I'd already gotten most of the dirt, the proof, and more. So, so," she choked a bit, "I ran."

Dawg picked up his spoon, and took a large bite of his sundae -- as if they were two people getting to know each other. Two bad guys had entered. Both of them bounty hunters he knew, and they didn't own hearts of gold. Money was their god.

TO BE CONTINUED...
~~~~~~

Wishing you shapeshifting love on the wild side...

Savanna

Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance ~

Nature Calls

“They’re here,” Jeanine whispered into her recorder. Crouched beside her in the blind, Tom kept his eyes on the images transmitted from the motion-sensitive cameras they’d planted along the game trail. After three weeks of tantalizing glimpses, one camera had drawn a crowd.

“There’s Mutt and Jeff,” Tom murmured. Jeanine trembled with excitement. The big gray wolf and the scrawny gray-yellow coyote had been caught on camera early on. She’d thought they were mates at first, but both appeared to be male. She’d since observed them hunting and playing and chasing down females together. In her five years filming Nature’s denizens, she’d never seen, read of, or heard about any such pairing as this.

She’d already spent the check from NatGeo in her mind. And it was a hefty one.

“Six wolves,” Tom said, “and one coyote. Looks like they’re all male. Bachelor pack? And what's a coyote doing with wolves?"

“I don’t know,” Jeanine said distractedly. She wondered how well the Emmy for Best Documentary would fit in her hands.

“Look. They’ve found the camera.”

The wolves sidled up to the camera. Their nostrils worked. The lens acquired a wet smear from an inquisitive nose. The pack stepped back, but continued to stare at the camera.

“This is weird,” Tom said. “I know I hid the camera and camouflaged my scent. They shouldn’t even know it’s there.”

“They warned us Talbot’s Peak is strange. The animals don’t behave normally.”

Something was happening out there. Jeanine edged closer to the screen.

Then they saw it. Tom swore. Jeanine gasped. “I don’t believe this.”

# # #

Three weeks ago

“Dog!” Sal came running up, all hyper as usual, jolting Harry out of yet another perfectly good nap. “Dog, you gotta come see this.”

Harry got up, yawned, shook the pine needles out of his fur and shifted to human form. “Dude. Pants.”

“Screw pants. There’s two monkeys sticking cameras on trees down by the deer yard. I think they’re doing a nature show.”

“In the deer yard?” That got Harry’s attention. “That’s Hancock turf. How’d humans get past the patrols?”

“The Hancocks are your family. You tell me. The point is, we’ve just been handed the opportunity of a lifetime. What do we do about it?”

Harry scratched behind his ear. Only a coyote would see a human invasion of shifter territory as an opportunity. “Better show me first,” he said.

In wolf and coyote form they trailed the pair and marked the locations of the cameras. They followed them back to their base camp, a pair of tents and several nervous horses holed up beside a stream at the edge of Brandon Wayne’s ranch. They retreated a safe distance and shifted for speech. “Think Wayne let ‘em in?” Harry asked.

“Doubt it. Your alpha either. Well, we probably shouldn’t kill them. That could lead to a total mess.”

“It’s already a total mess. I’ll have to tell the pack where the cameras are. Scat, we’ll have to tell everybody. If they catch somebody shifting on film, this’ll turn into Monkey Central. The FBI we can deal with, but zoologists?” Harry shook his head. “We have to do something. Any ideas?”

Sal grinned and pointed his thumbs at his chest. “Dog. Coyote.”

# # #

“Does that coyote,” Tom said in a shaky voice, “have a camera?”

He couldn’t. He couldn’t, but he did. Using his teeth and paws, he was taking video of the pack. The wolves struck poses in front of both his and the hidden camera. Two wolves held up a cardboard sign in their teeth. It read Hi, Mom!

Then, at some body-language signal, the pack approached Jeanine’s camera. As one, they lifted their legs and took aim.

# # #

Jeanine and Tom hurried back to their camp to find the canvas tents in shreds, the horses gone, their notebooks clawed to confetti and soaked in urine, and their hard drives wiped. While they were rooting despondently through the wreckage several men on horseback rode up. “Brandon Wayne,” the horseman in the lead introduced himself. “You’re on private property.”

Jeanine gathered up her bravado. It was all she had left. “We were told these are state lands.”

“No, these are Wayne lands. That mountain you’ve been tromping around on belongs to the Hancock Corporation. Neither of us appreciate trespassers. There’s some beautiful public game lands ten miles southwest of here. We’ll see that you make it safely to the road.”

The cowboys herded the humans and their skimpy bits of salvage out of camp. Hidden up a nearby tree, Sal caught it all on video.

# # #

From “Naturalists: Exploiting Nature” broadcast on Talbot’s Peak Cable Access Channel 11

“Sometimes the good guys win one, folks. Sometimes we make it through the infestation with nothing more than some bad film to show the humans were here. We dodged a bullet this time, but we need to keep our eyes open and our wits on red alert, because as long as they stay nosy and have cameras, this is bound to happen again.”

Video shows two humans, one male and one female, trudging up Highway 15 past a sign reading Rocky Top State Park, next left.

“Millions of years ago, so their stories go, the monkeys came down out of the trees and started walking around on two legs. News flash, apes. You left, but we didn’t, and we don’t take kindly to you flea-pickers coming back to play Candid Camera with us. Let this be a lesson to you. Stay the hell out of our trees.”

Video fades to black.

This broadcast was made possible through contributions from the Hancock Corporation, the Wayne Ranch, and from viewers like you.

A Howlish Full Moon

Night Hawk leaned back against the side of the hot tub.  Tongson sat across from him, as did Tavia and Tomas.  Mickey sat on the bench close to Tomas.  Steam rose off the water bubbling up from the hot springs below.  Chilling breezes blew down off the still snow-covered peaks surrounding their secluded valley.  The children slept in their room not far from the patio where the quintet relaxed.

“You’re report says little of the antics Sherre Khan continues to support.”  Tongonson slid closer to Tavia.  She laid her head on his shoulder while continuing to hold hands with Tomas.  Mickey’s cheesy grin told Night Hawk her afternoon nap and cuddle with Tomas was worth the private welcome home she’d saved for him.

Tomas sighed and tipped his head back.  A howlish moon filled the sky.  Down in the lower forty-eight, somewhere near the high country in South Dakota, a wolf kept watch and waited.  Dante knew the war would eventually come.  They’d agreed most of Talbot’s Peak would fight against Khan.  Problem remained who would and who wouldn’t.  

“I learned from Serge, Khan wants power.  He craves it like the addict for the drug.  The dissensions within his household appear to go unnoticed by him.  Or better stated by Serge and Dante both as judiciously ignored.”  Tomas snorted as he cuddled Mickey to him.   “I prefer the peace of our quiet domain than adding more who seek to cause discord and resentment.”

Tavia cleared her throat drawing everyone’s attention.  “The powers-that-be want Khan found and gone.  Not as in out of the Peak.  His pelt carries a price.  A bounty that magicks or humans will seek.  I pity the ones who go up against his guard without studying him and his power along with his allies first.”

Night Hawk nodded.  Tavia bit her tongue to keep her words to herself.  The young mage grew by leaps and bounds, as Tongson tutored him in the older magical practices only elite shifters knew.  Serge was amongst the group.  She wondered if he would keep his oath when the time came.  She didn’t want to lose Tongson nor did she want him to be the death of his life long friend.  

Mickey groaned, rubbing her belly, she reached out to Night Hawk.  “Our son moves restlessly.  But a few more of these moons and he will make his way into the world.  I fear you will not be here for him.”

Night Hawk rose and made his way to where Mickey sat.  He dropped to one knee.  “My precious love, I cannot promise what tomorrow holds as it is still being conceptualized, awaiting its own birth as does our son.  My intent is to be here always for you and our family.  If my path takes me elsewhere, may it bring me home to you safe and sound.”

Mickey’s sorrowful smile cut at Tomas.  He wished he could reassure all of them that the balance of power would continue.  That none would perish or turn against family, friend and ally.   He wished a thousand more years of peace would reign. But one exceedingly power addicted shape shifter didn’t understand give and take.  He took what he wanted and the consequences be damned.

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

Happy Weekend Gang!

My extreme apology for this very late post.  My day job announced mandatory over time starting in a few weeks.  My spice family celebrated two anniversaries so far this month with another to come before the month is out.  Spending time together celebrating and discussing logistics while I work 9-10 hour days has taken center stage.  

I hope you enjoy this snippet of the continuing discussions happening once Tomas arrived home.  I understand that the Ice Witch Hadley's ignore back in the Peak is getting ready for round two.  Louie's search for his daughter maybe closer to home than he realizes.  The muse is puttering with who is next up in the serials running from our shape shifter friends.

Solara

Holy Fire ~ Extinction Explained...

“Why has she not come to me!” The man before her morphed back and forth between human and dragon in split second intervals, his anger loosening control of his shifter side.

Karma worried for both her physical well-being and the difficult to obtain treasures in her Egyptian Antiquities shop.  Each item was a personal treasure picked up over the course of a very long life.  She wouldn’t talk age because a woman never divulged her true age.  Sufficed to say, this wasn’t the first birthday she’d turned twenty-nine.  In fact, looking at the darling little broach in the case beneath her fingers reminded her of another twenty-ninth birthday spent getting jiggy with Seti II in 1200 BC.

“Answer me!”

“Holy fire…” She threw herself behind the counter dodging the stream of fire erupting from Erol’s human nostrils.  “You might want to pull it back some, dragon-boy.  Snorting fire will get you a quick trip to a human scientist’s lab for a little slice and dice.”

“They would have to catch me first.”

Karma eased up slowly from the safety of the metal and glass cabinet and shot him a look he should have no trouble interpreting.  “Overzealousness must run in your family, right?”  She pat her hair, making sure no stray fleck of fire took out her new do.  “If you kill me, Erol, I can’t help you win over your lady love…”

“I do not need help with my woman.  She just needs to come to me!”

“Okay, listen up…lesson one.”  Karma grabbed a pad of paper, just knowing she would need to make this Neanderthal some notes.  “She is not your woman, nor is she your dog.  She does not come, sit, fetch or play dead.  Her name is Greely and using her name shows her you respect her independence.”

“She will not be independent…she will be with me!” 

Once again she found herself on the floor, dodging a nasal combustion bigger than Old Faithful’s timely blow.  Were all dragons so volatile or was it just the blacksmith?

“Okay, I see we need to start a bit before names and respect.  Lesson point five.  Welcome to the 21st century.”  The look on his face was beyond comical—pursed lips, squinty eyes and a flared nose that said he wouldn’t take kindly to instructions.  “Women have the right to vote, have burned their bras and are allowed, even encouraged to be independent.  We do not need a man to be happy, but the right one or two at our side is a definite benefit.”

“You can vote?”  True surprise glowed from behind his eyes.

“Yeesh.”  She knew this would be a tough sell, but really…where had this dragon been living for the last hundred or so years?  Under a rock?  “Erol, are there a lot of your kind in town?  Dragon’s that is?”

“A few, but more will be arriving soon…why?”

Great…  “Oh, no reason…I’m just wondering if I need to stock up on athame’s for the soon to be pissed off women around town.”

“We are dragon…we protect our women from danger!”

“Ha!  But who’s gonna protect you from them?”  Karma laughed at the utterly confused look on this dragons puss…  “Note to self…maybe a class for all incoming dragon.  Political Correctness for Wooing Your Mate.  What do you think?”

“What is this political correctness thing…”

Heaven help them.  “Erol, have you heard the term extinction?”

~~~

May ya'll have a little Karma on your side!

Have a great weekend.  :D

Serena

The plot thickens

Before I get to posting this week's protion of "Fat Aussie Bastard," I have a couple anouncements. We--or rather I--am running an impromptu contest over on the Shapeshifter Seductions FB page. I posted a rather unusual picture and the person to come up with the best explination for it wins a $5 gift certificate to Amazon.com.

Second bit of news is that as soon as I can come up with a better title for this story, I'll be submitting it to Smashwords for publication. It'sll be the full version, including the naughty bits, but I'll keep posting the clean bits here as a count down to it being on Smashwords.

Without further ado, here's this week's snippet!

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“I thought you’d met Dugger,” Bambi replied off-handedly. Tom looked up from the pool table, shook his head at the mule deer buck, then looked back at the table, trying to find a shot. He’d dropped by his favorite pub after his meeting with Jenna at the city park. He couldn’t tell anyone his real reason for having met her, but Bambi could always be counted on to have picked up something interesting and useful in his own line of work. Bambi was one of the three full time game wardens in this county and in a place so very full of shifters, a game warden was every bit as in-the-loop as any cop.


“I’ve heard a lot about that bounty hunter Dante brought in a while back, but I had no reason, or inclination, to seek him out. Why?”

“Because he’s a dingo,” Bambi said with a chuckle as Tom sunk the que ball in the right far pocket. “An you are shooting pool like a noob. I take it this female dingo’s on more than your mind right now?”

“Go eat a salad, herbie,” Tom shot back snidely.

Most folks might have expected a German Shepard and a mule deer to spit and argue with each other, even over a friendly game of pool. What most of them would not be aware of, was that they were step brothers and actually quite good friends. Tom had not one single idea why his mom had taken up with Bambi’s dad twenty years ago. The scandal that mating had caused had rocked Talbot’s Peak spectacularly. It had also laid the groundwork for the kind of town the Peak and grown into—a town where herbies and carnies could play a friendly game of pool over a pint of beer at Flanigan’s Pub. Bambi—whose name was not really Bambi but rather something much more emasculating—and Tom always snipped and sniped and each other. That’s what brothers do, even when there was no blood tie between them. Gods help the fool who tried to step between them, though.

“So what’d Dante bring in a dingo bounty hunter for?” Tom asked as he put away his que.

“I don’t know that he did bring in Dugger to hunt for him, exactly. There is something very wrong going on in town and I’m not entirely sure what it is. Could be Dugger came here on his own following the trail of someone or could be he just happened to be passing through when he found something. But why would you want to talk to a dingo bounty hunter? Because they are the best of the best. Period. They won’t work for just anyone and they won’t stop if they take on a job, even if you don’t pay them.” Tom stopped and stared blankly at his step brother.

“No on works for free,” he said with disbelief.

“They don’t work for free, exactly,” Bambi said with a shrug. “But they are born and bred to be protectors. They are the bloody white knights of the animal kingdom, Tom. If they see a wrong, they are hell-bound determined to right it. So long as they get enough money coming in to keep themselves and their family fed, they really don’t care how much they get paid. It’s not about the money for them.”

“But why bounty hunters?” Tom asked. Bambi chuckled.

“I said they feel the need to right every wrong, not the need to uphold every law. I guess I should have compared them to a whole species of Robin Hoods.”

“Except they aren’t in it for the money,” Tom added sarcastically.

“According to the Disney channel, Robin Hood wasn’t in it for the money, either. He was in it to stick it ol’ King Jon the Usurper. “

Tom shook his head, bewildered. A lot of little pieces had clicked into place about his Washington State PI. But the whole picture was even more confusing than the disjointed pieces had been. The most confusing piece, of course, was why finding out she wasn’t above playing vigilante to stop the bad guys made him even hotter for her…