Tuesday, September 1, 2015
End of summer howls and yowls, shapeshifter lovers.
Really, can you believe this is the first day of September? Gosh, time isn't flying, it's at quantum speed.
Today the Muse insisted on working on Keina and Drev's erotic love story, Waiting For a Filly Girl, my SHAPESHIFTER SEDUCTIONS WIP. Here's an *unedited, raw draft* from the beginning of Chapter Thirty-seven. This scene snippet is X-rated.
Tagline: Ex super-soldier boy meets winged filly girl. Will they live happily ever after? In Talbot's Peak territory anything is possible.
From Chapter Thirty-seven
In erotic bliss, Keina undulated to the long powerful thrusts of her stud man. Her equess had been ignited to a heightened level, and the pleasure of their passionate coupling moved through her, fierce as a flash flood.
Their lips broke apart as Drev tangled his fingers deeper into hair. He quickened the strike of his cock, the rhythm still a smooth ebb and flow.
"Keina." His raspy voice held it all, his love, his raw passion—how much he cherished her as his woman.
"Drev." She sensually slipped her lips along his jawline, and roamed her hands over his back.
Running wild with passion, Keina clamped her legs tighter around his, and danced her hips at a furious pace. Her bliss surged becoming orgasmic.
Rapture storm-crashed through her, and eventually carried her over the sweet and sharp edge. She fell into the oblivion of orgasm, unable to call out her stud man's name, unable to use her voice at all.
Drev lunged to her core, his cock filling her like the most potent stallion. Her ecstasy intensified, keeping her motionless.
With her eyes closed, she heard Drev's virile groan, his extreme pleasure obvious. Gutturally, he shouted his climax.
Keina soared with him, her mind suddenly connected to his, as often happened to couples in her realm.
Becoming aware of her rapid breaths, Keina emerged, and felt her hands sweep over his back, slick with sweat. Her equess sheath spasmed around his cock, delicate bursts of pleasure.
"Keina, my filly girl." Drev lovingly nuzzled her neck.
He raised above her, captured her in an embrace, and rolled them over so she lay sprawled on top of him. Their mouths immediately joined as if their lips had been magnetized. They kissed languidly, thoroughly, and with a depth of feeling that sent her winging high inside.
"Drev." Keina fondled his nose with hers. "I love you, stud man."
"I love you," he intimately purred.
"I love you more." Keina planted tiny kisses all over his mouth.
"I love you more." His voice, the power of his feeling for her sent a bubbly-fizzy happiness through Keina.
Giddy, in a teasing tone, she repeated, "I love you more."
Their battle of I love you's began, interspersed with sweltering kisses, and the lazy twining of their tongues.
Wishing you love and passion on the wild side ~
Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance
Monday, August 31, 2015
Alessandra Moore sipped her drink and let her gaze wander over the other diners in the Rocky Top Motel’s restaurant. She tried to look with her casual, I’m-not-working-right-now eye, but her professional, let’s-see-what-we’ve-got-here eye kept getting in the way. That tended to happen whenever Less found herself between jobs. Like now.
Overall, the pickings here were slim. Well, she should have expected that from a motel restaurant off an interstate exit in rural Montana. Transients, truckers, businessmen on their way to one coast or the other and families on vacation weren’t going to yield many possibilities. As for the locals, forget it. They were attractive enough, in a rugged, animalistic sort of way, but the cowboy look was over and had been even before she left Chicago. If she was going to wow ‘em in LA, it wouldn’t be with anyone she found in this backwater cowtown.
Maybe after dinner she’d cruise some of the bars and clubs that dotted the exit strip. Those people were younger and dressed better, and would happily pose for a couple of bucks. All she needed was a few shots to freshen her portfolio and she’d be back in business.
No way she’d ever go back to secretarial work. She’d die first.
A bored woman wearing makeup that was all wrong for her features served Less her salad and steak. Less dug in with a purpose. She was in cattle country; might as well splurge. If Los Angeles proved as tough a town as she’d heard, it could be a while before she ate this well again.
Then she spotted him. The rose in the dungheap, the diamond in the rough. The young man in the waiter’s uniform, delivering a platter of sausage gravy and biscuits to the hulk in the John Deere cap two tables over. How the hell had she missed him? He must have just started his shift.
Her photographer’s eye took over. He was clearly tall enough, and then some. It was all in the legs. Hard to tell their shape in waiter’s pants, but their length was impressive. Ditto for the neck. That was truly an elegant neck, the kind women who yearned to look aristocratic would kill for. You could hang anything on a neck like that—collars, chokers, chains. A neck like that should be all wrong on a man, but somehow he made it look natural.
The rest of his features fell into place: dark, flawless skin, hair cropped into short, black bristles, mobile lips, the sought-after cheekbones to die for. With the proper lighting, the right angles—
Then he moved. Oh, fudge. He had the legs, but not the walk. His body moved in an ungainly bob brought on by a too-wide stride. No runway work for this one if he couldn’t get that walk fixed. But the rest of him? Spot on.
Young, fresh, unique. Something even LA fashion had never seen before. Less’s hopes to hit town with a bang burst to life again.
Just as quickly, panic seized her. How old was this kid? As desperate for work as Less might be, she drew a hard line at photographing children, even with their parents’ permission. If this kid wasn’t legal, she was doomed.
For the next twenty minutes she picked at her food while she studied the waiter, looking for flaws. There had to be flaws. She couldn’t be so lucky, not in a place like this. But other than that walk, he seemed exactly what she was looking for. What she needed to give her an edge. Even the walk turned out not to be so bad. When he wasn’t hurrying, the bob took on a rhythm that had an odd grace all its own. Maybe still not runway-worthy, but it wouldn’t stop him from getting work.
Please, please, please be legal age.
Less barely noticed when her waitress brought the check. She slapped a generous tip on the table, paid for her meal, and went in search of the waiter. Finally she spotted him, on his way to the register. She thrust herself into his path.
Holy crap. Up close, tall didn’t even start to cover it. Try towering. She might have felt intimidated if not for his eyes. They were as dark and deep as chocolate syrup. For a moment she wished she was ice cream. Then his lashes distracted her. Like his neck, they should have been too long for a man, but on him they worked perfectly.
“’Scuze me,” he mumbled, and tried to duck around her.
“Just one minute. Please.” Less dug franticlaly in her purse for a business card. She pressed it into his hand. “Have you ever thought about modeling?”
Saturday, August 29, 2015
Posted by Solara
Hi Gang! Ned and the boys decided to take another week off. Sorry, you aren't getting the next parts of the serial this week. I wanted to write a short post about Gil and Chloe taking off for the mountains. Instead, I'm dealing with sore neck and shoulders from working 50 hour week at day job. I'm on the mend. I've got stuff to do also around the Spice Homestead so chores and family time top the list again.
The link below is to a accapella group called Face Vocal Band. The video is shot with their families as part of the video. It's lovely. I hope it enjoy this as part of your Saturday afternoon relaxation time.
Until Next Week,
Friday, August 28, 2015
Posted by Serena Shay
Ziva marveled at how good the boys had gotten at hunting. Mooney must be glowing with their abilities. As she moved around the other side of the young deer the boy’s had picked out, in order to keep it from escaping, her mind wasn’t on her surroundings. Nope, she was picturing herself and Nick teaching River and Cooper to hunt.
And those moments of happiness caused her to misstep. Her misstep sent her rear left paw to step out into nothingness, which caused her right to follow and quickly she was scrabbling to pull herself back to the top of the rocky ledge of dirt.
No such luck.
Height wasn’t a factor in her fall, she wasn’t high enough to kill herself, but the steep hill, or gorge, was ragged, jagged and painful—road rash going down rather than across. Her paws tore, blood oozed and her entire underbelly burned. Soon enough, her back joined in the pain-fest as she rolled and continued down on her back.
A jarring thud announced her arrival at the bottom of the gorge. It took long minutes before her stolen breath returned and the world stopped spinning. Ziva took inventory of her wounds, noting all of the big pains and the small ones. Nothing felt broken, miraculously enough, but everything was torn. She should really shift, but there was no way she’d make it back up the hill and with her human voice she had less chance of calling out to Nick.
Ziva howled, deep and long. Gut wrenching. If ever she needed to be rescued, it was now.
Just a short one from me today as I too am dealing with my own unhappy hands. Per the therapist, I would greatly benefit from message. :) I ran right home to tell alpha hubs and got the eye...you know the one, raised eyebrow and all, but I gave as well as I got...here's how the convo went...
Me: She said my arms and shoulders are too tight and that I should consider some massage.
Alpha Hubs: ~the eye~ Ah huh. Aren't they doing that there?
Me: Only to my forearms, but they said extra massage would help.
Alpha Hubs: Sure they did...
Me: They did. So I'm going to call that place out on 65...
Alpha Hubs: The expensive one?
Me: I've heard good things about that place...or, you know, you could do it?
Alpha Hubs: ~smoldering look~ You know where that would lead.
Me: Yeah, me going to the only place I'll get the happy ending I want. ~wink~
Have a great, massage-filled, weekend!
Tuesday, August 25, 2015
End of August howls and yowls, shapeshifter lovers.
I've started what I hope will turn out to be a new series of flash scenes. We'll see, given my *who knows what obstacles are next?* life.
Anyway, I hope you enjoy. Because I'm pressed for time, I'm not even going to do a read over as I usually do, so please excuse any glaring mistakes.
One Shade of Silver Wolf
She'd known he could never love her. Not as she desired. Truth: she'd been seduced by his scholarly knowledge, by his extraordinary super intellect. Yeah, Einstein meets Carl Sagan, mix brains and stir. Then stand back in pure awe. That was Professor Edward Kingston.
During their two-year relationship, he'd treated her more than decently, and loved her in what he considered to be the proper manner. But at a deep emotional level the about-to-be chancellor, Professor Kingston, was bankrupt — as bankrupt as The Donald Trump had been four times in his entrepreneurial, meteoric rise to reality-show stardom.
Oh, she'd told herself Professor Ed would come to love her with a passion unparalleled. What a big fat lie.
The infamous rose-colored glasses, her fierce passion to learn... but yeah, her ego weakness for greater knowledge — the opportunity to live in a high-intellect realm, and constantly utilize her mind, to keep learning — she'd let herself be seriously led astray. As far as the deepest longings of her heart.
She let a sigh escape, one that blew strands of her coppery, always fly-away hair. As she moved down the hallway toward the stairs that led to Edward's tome-filled office, her gut churned, as if creepy crawlies hatched out.
Damn. She didn't want to do this. But there was a thing about being true to yourself. And it was time. Likely past time to say goodbye in a grownup, responsible manner.
To her best knowledge, Edward had even remained faithful, a mountain-tall plus for his overall stalwart character, given it was rarity in this ivory-tower campus culture. After all, affairs were de rigeur, and a way to climb the ambition-ladder for some.
She'd remained faithful as well, never stepping out on him. Not once. Oh, she'd flirted with the bevy of hunk temptations on campus. Those who put the one-night moves on her, and those with cheesy lines spoken in the throes of hyper-hormone activity.
Intentionally, she trotted up the stairway to keep herself moving. Not allowing herself to think, to entertain any thought about changing her mind, she lightly rapped on the heavy, late 1800's door.
"Kailla, come in. You're not disturbing me." Edward's deep resonant voice somehow soothed her. At the same time, anxiety tumbled willy-nilly through her middle.
"Edward," Kailla closed the door behind her, a whisper of sound over the thick expensive carpet. "I'm on my way. All packed up."
He rose from his leather desk chair, a tall distinguished man with cognac-brown eyes — deep-set eyes that held a universe of scholarly knowledge. Edward's passion for research and learning had proven to be endless, and dominated their life together. .
As she'd come to understand after days of soul-searching, he was married to the exploration, to the mission of being educated, and educating others. Kailla respected his passion. It simply wasn't her all-consuming passion.
Edward approached her, a gentle caring smile on his nobly constructed face. "Have a good time on your vacation, darling." He lifted her hands, enfolding them within his.
"Edward..." Kailla drew in what felt like a whirlwind of breath. "I'm saying goodbye."
"Goodbye?" Puzzlement colored his eyes.
"This isn't easy." Kailla raked her hand through her disobedient hair. "I'm leaving. I won't be coming back."
Shock hit his features. He turned and perched on the edge of his desk, his posture like a puppet held up with wires.
"I've given this a lot of thought..." Kailla swallowed back the lump about to choke her. "With you about to become chancellor... well, being with me won't help you. You know that," she emphasized when he was about to object.
"Face it, Edward. I'm a liability to all you hold dear." Kailla ignored the dizziness threatening to drop her to the floor, and softly continued, "I'm the leopardess who can't change her spots enough to fit in that rarified, ivory tower realm."
"It's what I love about you most, Kailla."
Unable to stand the appeal in his eyes to stay... to come back to him in two-weeks time, Kailla turned away.
"You can't be entirely tamed," he added after a pregnant pause. "If you change your mind," he began, ever the gentleman.
"You know, Beverly has been in love with you since she began teaching here. She'd be perfect as a chancellor's wife. You can't have missed how she dotes on you, especially when I'm not around."
"No." Raw pain owned his voice. "I haven't missed her overtures. Be well, Kailla."
"Be well, Edward." She jerked open the door, and stepped outside. Tears welled up, and she clung to the stair railing as the salty wetness slid down her cheeks.
Thundercloud, silver wolf shifter, and second clan brother in his familial pack, loped toward the highway. His nose led the way.
Out for a long, muscle-stretching run through the fields and forests of Talbot's Peak territory, he'd suddenly scented a delicious female fragrance. One that salivated his jowls, and caused his loins to ignite with savage need.
So what if she was human. Mostly human, anyway. Like as not, she didn't know her full genetic heritage.
Thundercloud's primal instincts ruled as he sprinted alongside the highway, searching for the vehicle he knew she drove. Somehow he had to find the woman, follow her. Claim her.
Weary from traveling, and ready to lose herself to a long nap once she reached the Talbot's Peak Inn, Kailla concentrated on the few miles left before she reached her destination.
Checking her side mirror, she glanced longer this time. Her adrenaline jumped and kept pumping. Was that a wolf, a real live wolf racing toward her?
Slowing so she wouldn't wreck, Kailla pulled off to the side, yet kept her minivan slowly moving. Transfixed, she watched the humongous wolf charge straight at her. The late summer sun caused his coat to appear silvery, as if each dark hair had been tipped with a drop of silver.
Wishing you love and passion on the wild side ~
Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance
Monday, August 24, 2015
Salome stopped herself just in time. One word, one wrong sound at the wrong moment, and Telly’s steady hands might jiggle and there would go hours of work. She held herself still as a rock in the kitchen doorway, scarcely daring to breathe.
“It’s okay, sweetie,” her husband said without turning around. “I know you’re there. I’m good.”
She let her breath out, relieved. “I’ll wait here. Just to be safe.”
“No need. It’s done.” He stepped aside. “You like?”
Salome caught her breath again, this time over the icing artistry he’d just applied to the cake. Delicate pink and blue flowers. Winged candy ponies. The entire two-tiered confection had been sculpted into the shape of a Medieval castle in white cake and vanilla icing. Little flags with 8s on them flew from the turrets.
The Princess stood on the battlements, a candy Katniss with a tiny bow. A pack of sugar wolves stood at her back. “I don’t remember wolves from The Hunger Games,” Salome said.
“The definition of ‘princess’ has been changing, Disney notwithstanding,” Telly said. “The ponies will probably go first. I’m just relieved her family didn’t insist I put meat in the recipe. Baking for carnivores is a tricky game.”
“They do like their sweets, though. Bet they’ll have barbecue at the birthday party. Now guess what we’ve got.” She fluttered a paper in front of his nose.
His stare fastened on it. “It’s ours?”
“It will be once we sign it. Our own shop at last, with a real kitchen for us to work in. Actual ovens. No more pizza dinners because the stove’s in use.” She hugged her husband tight. “All ours.”
Telly maneuvered her into the living room, away from the cake and its delicate turrets, so he could swing her around. “It’s all been worth it, m’love. We’re a real bakery at last.” He stopped in mid-swing. “Got a name yet?”
“Still working on it. Oh, and I have another special request.”
“Good thing the cake’s done, then. What’s this one?”
Salome bit her pink lower lip. “Um, a dungeon?”
“I ran into Harriet at the real estate office. A friend of hers plays a slave at the Pleasure Club. The girls want to get her a cake dungeon. Don’t give me that look. It’s not the first time we’ve been asked to bake something risqué.”
“Just running through the possibilities. I suppose it’ll have to be something spicy. No vanilla.”
Salome giggled. “Doughnut collars?”
“And licorice whips.” Telly grinned, getting into it. “Gingerbread men on their knees. We’ve done that already. A dark chocolate Dom. Or is chocolate out? A lot of the canines can’t stomach it.”
“This will be mostly herbivores. The more fruits and veggies we put in, the happier they’ll be.” Salome’s lips curved. “Cherries, of course. And plenty of nuts.”
“Absolutely. How soon do they need it? We’ve got that cupcake order for Thursday, remember.”
“Saturday morning. The party’s in the afternoon.” Salome peered beyond his shoulder, with a sad little shake of her head. “There goes the kitchen again.”
“This could be the last time, though. Soon we’ll have a professional kitchen, and a house that doesn’t smell like peanut butter. You know,” he added, switching tracks, “we get a lot more orders for the kinky cakes than we do for the birthday variety.”
“Noticed that, did you?”
“You bake enough cakes in the shape of a penis, you start to get the idea. Think we should specialize?”
“If you think it would help. We do need a gimmick to help us stand out. We won’t be the only bakery in Talbot’s Peak. With a specialty, we could market to some of the clubs by the exit. As long as you don’t mind, of course. You’re the one who does most of the sculpting.”
“I don’t want you baking dicks. Some of those requests we get give you funny ideas.”
“You loved the cotton candy bikini,” Salome reminded him. “We can still do regular cakes. See how the market goes.”
“I think we both know how the market’s going.” Telly glanced over his shoulder at the vanilla castle. “We get asked for eight-year-old princesses who lead wolf packs. These people aren’t into safe and sedate. If we can’t beat the competition in flavor, we’ll have to do it in shape.”
“I’m all in favor,” Salome agreed. “I know you love a challenge. And I love new ideas.”
“So do I, when I’m not too tired. Dirty cakes it is. Why, look, I’ve got some icing left. What do you think we should do with it?”
“I say it’s time to take a break. Want to lick my bowl?”
He took the deed to their new bakery from her and carefully laid it on a table. He swung her into his arms with only a little less care and headed for the bedroom. Salome snuggled happily into his arms. She knew in her heart Wicked Sweet was going to be a success.