Friday, May 29, 2015

Friday Fun...

Caption This!

How about a little silly Friday fun.  Looks like this kitten as made it's way into Talbot's Peak.  I wonder what she's thinking?

"Why didn't someone warn me!  I-Is that a s-s-snake!  In a wig?"

What do you think?  What's Miss Kitty saying to you?


Have a wonderful weekend!


Wednesday, May 27, 2015

The Countdown Has Begun!

Quick hit-and-run post today. Life is all kinds of nuts at the moment. But there is good news on the "Witch's Moon" front. I got it back from my last beta reader just in time to make a few minor changes. With any luck, I'll have it off to the editor tomorrow, though it might not be ready until Saturday. That's actually fine since my scheduled editing reservation was for the week of June 1st. Depending on how badly the editor rips me, I might have this sucker ready for a "Christmas in July" release. It'll be on Kindle only at first due to their new pricing scheme. (I only get 70% of the royalties if I go exclusively with them for the first 60 days...) After that, I will put it up at ARe and Smashwords.

That's about all I've got for now. Time to go back to trying to convince my niece and nephew to go the f**k to sleep...

~ Rebecca

Tuesday, May 26, 2015

...kick down the castles...

Pic from ~northernstarart~

Rain, Rain howls and yowls, shapeshifter lovers.

Again, since my writing time is so limited these days, here's another sneak peek from a raw, 'unedited' chapter of my SHAPESHIFTER SEDUCTIONS WIP -- starring my winged horse heroine, Keina, and her more-than-human hero, Drev. Right now, they are enjoying Thanksgiving day together, and are dining in Drev's 'out of the way' survival cabin home. ... oh, and they're learning more about each other.

End of Chapter-seven ~

"Dressing in my world often reminds me of the actors in your movies. They dress the part."

Drev gave a nod, then asked, "No movies in your world?"

"No movies. We have entertainment venues and theatrical plays, which most often depict our history. Perhaps, it is because we have viewing crystals."

"Viewing crystals?" Drev buttered a roll.

"They're similar to those big TV screens, but are crystal. We can view any happening in the past, or any public event." Keina paused, and after a flip of her hair, she added, "Including what you would call sports."

"Wow." Drev's eyebrows shot for the sky. "Wowser." An instant later he scowled, "Is it one way viewing, or like a two-way mirror?"

Keina leaned back tilting her head in thought. "Oh, I understand. You mean like the big-brother televisions here." She grinned wickedly. Her inner horse shook her woman's body in defiance -- as if she shook dust off her coat.

"No," Keina continued as a firestorm burst inside her, "we would know if that ever happened, given our psi abilities. Every one of us would morph, and go kick down the castles of whomever was involved."

Chapter Twenty-eight ~ Drev Zander

"Good plan. I like that kicking down idea." Drev splashed a bit more wine into his Keina's glass. "I've often wondered what the outcome would be, if humankind suddenly awakened to their psi powers. If the shadow government could no longer hide their secrets. Their darkest sins."

Drev watched his beautiful woman hesitate. Her expression changed to one of complete seriousness, and she gently tossed her mane of hair again. "Mind chaos, as we would describe it."

"You can't handle the truth." Drev quietly spoke as his insides became fiercely turbulent. Realizing he'd taken their T-day celebration in a dark direction, he reversed course. "I apologize, sweetheart. This was supposed to be a joyous occasion. Only."

His women silently regarded him for a moment or two. "It can't be helped, stud man. There is a black cloud of evil over Earth...right now." She sighed, deep and long. "I know you have a circle of witches at Dante's underground castle. I've seen their good energies at the ethers. That is, whenever I fly in that area of the sky."

"Yes, our gathering of good witches...for a few years now, they've arrived. We also have several remote viewers." Drev slid his foot out of his loafer, tenderly covering her little foot. "On the cyber-tech side, we're recruiting the best and brightest -- as they say -- inside the para-shifter world, and as fast as possible."

"I will help in any way in your defense." The earnest, determined expression in his Keina's gaze zoomed straight to Drev's heart. "Invisibility and flight are very useful at times."

"Yes." Drev just had to grin, somewhat tickled by the warrioress face his filly girl now wore. "Very useful against enemies of the Peak," he emphasized on a solemn note. Already envisioning battle scenarios, as he'd been trained to do when in the military, he added, "Dante, his inner circle...all of us are doing are damn best to cover all the bases. Not easy in these times."

"We would make a good team, I believe." The fearless gleam in his woman's eye convinced Drev.

"We would." He offered his hand, embracing hers when Keina clasped hands with him. He placed several soft kisses in the center of her palm.

As he released her hand, she leaned, stretching over the table to stroke her fingertips along his jaw. "I love the feel of you, Drev."

"Softer than a lover's eye," he sang in a raspy whisper, as she moved back from him. Hell, he felt as though he stood on a mountain top, lit up by the brilliance of the sun. But on the inside.

"That is so poetic, my Drev." Beaming at him, Keina gave an excited little shimmy.

"I can't claim those poetic words, sweetheart. But you inspired my memory. It's a lyric from John Denver's song, Rocky Mountain High."

"You have a poetic soul. And a good memory. You will have to introduce me to this musician."

"Sad to say, Keina, he died long ago...passed on to the immortal realms after his plane failed and crashed." To counter another downer, Drev slid his chair back and stood. "I have a surprise."

"Really?" Keina bounced a bit in her chair, her gaze radiant with anticipation.

"No fair using your psi power, either. To find out," Drev bantered, even as he whipped around toward the fridge.

"My mind is a blank," she primly promised. "Besides, you'd feel it if I scanned your thoughts."

Striding quickly, Drev opened the fridge door retrieving the bowl of apple walnut salad he'd made while Keina showered. The recipe was another one of his mother's favorites, and a Thanksgiving day standard when he was growing up.

"I smell cut apples," she trilled as he approached.

"It's the apple pie," Drev teased.

"No, I smell grapes, celery, cream, honey...and what do you call it? Mayonnaise?"

"Evidently you can't fool a filly's nose." Drev removed one of the empty dishes, set it on the nearest counter, then placed the bowl of creamy salad on the table.

"I'll put some on your plate, Drev." She eagerly spoke, already plunging in a large spoon.

Amused by Keina, Drev laughed before seating himself again. She'd rapidly spooned a heaping helping for him, and was piling the salad on her plate.


Wishing you love and passion on the wild side ~ 


Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance

Monday, May 25, 2015

Never Too Late

"Happy birthday to me," Sandra sang bitterly to herself while she cruised her aging Toyota up Route 15. Today, at precisely 5:14 p.m., she would turn thirty-six. She had a career of sorts—manager of one of the chain motels at the Talbot's Peak exit—and a comfortable if uneventful life. All she lacked was someone to share it with.

Countless blind dates set up by well-meaning friends, an endless circuit of the limited bar scene, and one disastrous incident stemming from an online dating site had finally convinced Sandra her personal Prince Charming must have taken a different ramp off the interstate. Once a girl passed thirty, statistics said she stood a better chance of being shot by terrorists than she did of finding a man. No handsome stranger was going to ride up on a white horse and sweep her off her feet.

So screw it. Screw the bars, screw the catfish-infested waters of, screw that loser cousin of Franny's and that arrogant asshat Betsy had sort of known back in high school. This birthday was the end of the line.

To celebrate her climbing out of the dating pool, she resolved to do something different. Something daring. Something completely on her own. After living in the area for four dry years, she was finally going to visit Talbot's Peak.

She'd been warned against this, of course. "The people are weird out there," all the locals told her. What kind of weird, she wanted to know. Here the stories conflicted. Some said survivalists. Some said back-to-nature hipsters. Franny was convinced they were vampires. Sandra knew for sure they had an ice cream shop, a bakery, and a town square. If she could find a park bench to sit on with ice cream and cake, maybe even a Memorial Day parade, she was willing to give the town a shot.

So what if a mammoth had charged up this very road last year, straight for the town? How often did things like that happen? Just stay away from the biker bar, Sandra told herself. Everything was going to be fine. Maybe even fun.

The sight of colorful balloon animals tethered to the lampposts around the square immediately got her hopes up. That the animals depicted by the contorted balloons were mostly representations of predators didn't strike her mind until later. Rather than fight the foot, hooved and wheeled traffic circling the square—as always, the cars stalking unwary parking spaces reminded her of buzzards—Sandra took advantage of the Parking $2 Benefits the Beavers opportunity set up at City Hall. She handed over a pair of ones to an eight-year-old with huge buck teeth, while wondering who the Beavers were. Probably the local Scout troop.

By the time she'd strolled the block to the square she was definitely feeling much better. What a lovely little town! And the quaint storefronts! Not a chain store or corporate logo in sight. After four years working at the commercialized exit strip, her heart was hungry for small-town America.

Although, given the number of hips and shoulders she bumped on the jam-packed sidewalks, she had to wonder just how "small" the Peak was. And what was in the water. More than one man, and every single woman, growled at her over each inadvertent collision. Literally growled. Except for the tall blonde in the cowboy hat and the snakeskin boots, who hissed. It was like they could smell she was a stranger here, and resented her invasion of their turf.

Screw 'em. She was celebrating.

Sandra found the ice cream shop with no trouble, and patiently stood in line to get her dish of mint chocolate chip. With sprinkles. Today was her birthday. Live large.

While she stood on the sidewalk, back pressed against brick and spooning the delicious ice cream into her mouth, she gazed around and over all the sheepskin coats and Stetsons in search of the bakery. Get a cupcake? Oh hell, get a slice. Chocolate cake with peanut butter icing. Might as well go for it. Would they stick a candle in it? Wouldn't hurt to ask.

Ah. There was the bakery, across the square. Sandra dumped her empty plastic dish in a trash bin and stepped off the curb, her full attention trained on her destination. The thud of hoofbeats on blacktop was so common here in Montana she didn't pay any attention to it.

The yells and the whinnies, however, that she heard.

One moment she was crossing the street and anticipating moist chocolate cake on her tongue. The next, people were screaming, "Watch it! Look out! Somebody help the monkey!"

Monkey? Sandra stared about and finally noticed, not monkeys, but three horses pounding toward her, in spite of a lot of rough hauling on reins from their desperate riders. She froze in the middle of the street, too stunned to move.

One of the three abruptly changed tactics. He urged his mount forward, ahead of the other two. Before she could react, or even make a sound, he reached out, caught her around the waist, and lifted her easily into his saddle. He never even slowed. Sandra clung to him, her mind a blank, while he maneuvered the horse out of the square.

Once they'd reached a relatively clear stretch the cowboy eased his horse into a canter, then a jolting trot, and finally to a standstill. Sandra stared dizzily into his face. Cowboy? Given his dark skin, long raven's-wing hair, and chiseled cheekbones and chin, better make that Indian. My God he's handsome were the first words that popped into her brain. She nearly said them aloud.

Just then the horse gave a little buck, no doubt in protest of its suddenly-doubled load. A yelp blurted out of her instead.

The man said something in a lilting foreign tongue. Then he corrected himself, with a brilliant smile full of white, powerful teeth. "Ah. Must remember. English here. This is America. Are you all right? Have you been injured?"

Sandra's whirling mind made a hasty re-assessment. Indian, yes, but not Native American. "I'm … " she started, then halted, unsure how to finish. Okay? In shock? Sitting on a strange man's lap on horseback in public? He smiled at her patiently. She became aware that something else was growing, and it wasn't the saddle horn.

All at once it occurred to her a handsome prince of a stranger on horseback had just swept her off her feet. She said the only words her tongue would form. "Happy birthday?"

Saturday, May 23, 2015


Gill tiptoed to the edge of the tent.  He stopped, glancing back over his shoulder.  Louie lay on his back snoring louder with each breath.  Vernon lay curled up in wolf form on top of his sleeping bag.  Back in the last corner, Phil lay burrowed somewhere inside his sleeping bag.  Camping and the great outdoors. . .enough to make a squirrel. . .

“Horny,” he muttered, leaning down to unzip the tent flap.  His gonads could wait until the trip home for any sexual relief.  Chloe, Miss Ellie, Gladys, and Bettina slept in the other close-by tent.  In between the two tents sat Rachel and Tyburn’s tent like they chaperoned the group.  The kids bunked with the women in the largest tent of the three.  

Gill made his way out of the tent, savoring the quiet.  Louie’s snoring masked the other sounds of the night that most of them took for granted.  Strange animals and an unfamiliar section of the mountain might have left them sleepless until Vernon morphed and howled loud enough to stop the crickets from chirping.  Gill snorted as he made his way to the pine tree closest to the tents.  He unzipped his shorts and squatted.  Letting nature takes its course he wondered if they’d get back to town any time soon.

Driving back from their week long trip to the nude beach, a stalled weather front blocked access to the main highway back to town.  Three nights in a hotel had set nerves on edge.  Games and books kept civility going until the fourth day.  The hotel’s proprietor suggested they try the campgrounds two miles up the road.  Hastily procured camping gear from the local thrift store and here they were.  And here they’d likely be for several days more since the rain and flooding washed out two of the back roads they might have used.  

Gill stood up and fastened his shorts.  As he walked back to the tent, he hummed the tune Vernon and Louie were penning.  An anthem for the Peak sung to the melody of When the Saints Go Marching In.  Music rolled through the camp each night thanks to the banjo, harmonica, bongos, and guitar they picked up at the thrift store too.  Roughing it was okay.  They ate, slept, and made do with what they had.  Home had its allure and would be wonderful when they returned them.  For now, things were pretty good the way they were.



Our group finds themselves on the trip that doesn't stop.  I'm wondering what lyrics this group came up with.  As soon as Pris reveals them to me, I'll share.  What adventures await the gang next you ask?  Not sure.  Maybe we get them back at the Peak for the festival and sharing their penned anthem for the town.

Enjoy the holiday weekend and start of summer.  Keep safe, dry, and sane.  Remember to share a few good books with your loves and spice.  I know I will!

Until Next Week,


Tuesday, May 19, 2015

Finding His Sex Pet

Quickening howls and yowls, shapeshifter lovers.

Gosh time is passing like a speeding bullet. So, here's the next flash scene from my space fantasy WIP that was featured on April 7, and was titled: His Sex Pet
To repeat as an intro...
This idea for an erotic romance sprang at me one night during that twilight time before sleep. Anyway, here's a rough-draft opening to my space fantasy story, starring Sabrah and Commander Droz. Their story could easily be connected to Talbot's Peak since Dante's Interspecies Pleasure Club is known throughout the galaxy.


Finding His Sex Pet

Curbing his raw impatience, and silently cursing the enlarged, throbbing state of his cock, Commander Droz strode through the pavilion's open-air entrance. Resplendent in outward appearance, the slave-commerce structure resembled a potentate's harem quarters – many which were still on the surface of the planetworld, Ovvabia. Although, in current times, the palatial buildings were entertainment centers featuring the artistic talents of women. 

Droz's long quick stride carried him to the red ecstasy room, one of the center cubicles in the humanoid female section. Wispy trails of an exotic incense, meant to heighten carnal need, caused his nose to twitch. He snarled under his breath as his breeding shaft lengthened again. 

The very instant he'd been in communication range, Droz had contacted the infamous sex slave vendor, arranging for details and images of the available women. Hoping against hope that the first female he'd chosen would suit him, he paused to briefly perform a standard greeting to the spindly, gray-green skinned negotiator. 

Returning the gesture, the man immediately motioned for Droz to enter. Already the woman's sweet-musk fragrance tormented, and to his mind, begged for the plunder of his cock. 

Desperate for relief, Droz entered the chamber, an over-lavish affair, and forced himself to halt. Even as his inner, mating-crazed panther leaped, he rooted his boot-clad feet to the slick stone floor, staring.  He drank in the sexually beautiful picture before him. 

Now carnal torture took over. Supine and wrist-bound on a bed of soft large pillows, the female did not look up.  He knew it was because she refused to acknowledge his presence.  As Droz understood it, she'd been unwillingly sold by her family to pay a debt. 

The soul-lost fools, he contemptuously thought. Yet, if she took his cock well enough, the female would have a good home with him. 

Attired in semi-transparent swathes of silky cloth, her generous curves, her small circle of a waist more than pleased his eye. As the images had depicted accurately, her fiery red tresses flowed around her reminding him of the gentle ebb and flow of sea waves.  

A perfect contrast for the bright flaming color of her hair, her creamy, gold-flecked skin was also sensually pleasing, and far more lovely than the holo-images had been able to recreate. It mattered not that the female wasn't a shifter breed. In truth, Droz prefered his sex pet to remain naked flesh. 

Thus, he could stroke and fondle her at will. 

Her eyes, he wanted to see her eyes -- the color, the expression within their depths. Droz unrooted his feet and slowly approached. When her gaze still refused his, he bent at the waist, and lightly touched beneath her chin. 

With insistence, yet keeping his handling of her gentle, Droz raised her face to his.  His heart instantly jumped, as if he'd been startled as cat, and sprang upward  to escape an enemy.  In his homeworld jungles, enemies to his kind were numerous and brutally fierce. 

Her face, the unique loveliness, hypnotized him. Then her eyes captured him. Defiant, yet resigned to her fate, she gazed at him full on. 

Droz couldn't help but notice the deep well of sadness within the female's eyes. At the same time, the two aquamarine glistening pools entranced him with their beauty. 

Using one of his para-abilities, Droz searched her soul. The woman was a rich tapestry of experience. Wherever she'd come from -- her homeworld had not been divulged -- her life had not been simple nor protected. 

Even as he studied her, her scent altered, becoming more deliciously complex. Her gaze flared, then blazed splendidly with sudden anger. 

Droz let the corners of his mouth tilt upward in a smile. "Spirit is to be prized in a sex pet." He spoke in a language he'd been informed she understood. 

"Sex pet," she spat at him. "I am no one's pet." 

"You are now, my pretty one." After a split second pause, he added, "Unless the fit of my cock cannot be accomplished." 

She blanched white, the flames in her eyes swiftly lessening. 

Without another word, or another thought, Droz gripped her shoulders hauling her upward. Every inch of him turned stone hard with sheer, ferocious lust at the feel of her. Momentarily, the shiver and shake of her bountiful breasts transfixed him. 

He trapped the back of her neck with one hand, and in one motion bent her over  the smooth granite stand to be used for acts of sex. Hardly aware of his actions, Droz swept away the silken fabric so her ass was bared to him. 

In a breeding haze, he loosed his cock, never removing his gaze from her pale gorgeous rump. He inserted one finger testing her wetness. Good, the female liked his handling of her whether she admitted it or not.
Droz plunged his crown inside her ripe red sex.


Wishing you love and passion on the wild side ~ 


Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance