Wednesday, October 22, 2014

Witch's Moon, Chapter 8

So last week I had nothing because I was moping over loosing 2/3rds of my manuscript for Witch's Moon when a bug or something caused Google Drive to wipe it out back to an April revision point. Luckily, I am a paranoid person who has lost work one too many times and I had a print copy. It's still an earlier version, but it was pretty much the whole story. I have been typing madly, trying to get it all back down before I forgot the revisions I'd made recently, so I have not been writing anything knew. And since it's Wednesday, I owe you guys a post. Therefor you are getting another chapter from the story. The picture has nothing to do with the story. I just like it and Supernatural is running again, which means I've bot Winchesters on the brain. Enjoy!

~ Rebecca

PS, yes I know Lex is a douche. ;)

Chapter 8

As the morning wore on into early afternoon, the crowd changed from curious shape shifters looking for gossip to weary holiday shoppers looking for some caffeinated courage before heading back out into the fray. Talbot's Peak has a small town feel to it despite having a fairly large population at least partially because few of its residents actually lived within city limits. Most of the houses were businesses, not family dwellings with most of the population living on ranches or communes. We also have a thriving kitsch market of hand crafted everything. This draws shoppers looking for that extra special gift for miles around, even from as far away as Seattle and Vancouver. It’s one of my favorite things about this town.
The reason this matters to the story is that almost all of the local businesses cater to shifters first. Human customers are a pleasant side market only. You can buy cosmetics, lotions, and body sprays made to appeal to animal noses that are every bit as nice as the expensive national brands for a fraction of the price. Most locals, even the humans, used them. But not Maggie Novak. Miss "I Want To Be Famous" wore Chanel Number 5, which smells like ass to shifter noses, or so I've been told. It kind of makes sense since she wants to pass herself off as a glamorous human. She dresses like Paris Hilton, uses human beauty products, and eats the kind of trendy food humans prefer which also changes her body chemistry to something non-coyoteish. It’s not that she smells bad, per se. She just stands out kind of awkwardly in this town and it let me, with my regular human nose, know when she walked into Java Joe's a little after two pm.
It should be noted that before today, Maggie Novak had never once stepped foot in my coffee shop.
She wasn't here for a coffee today, either, because instead of going to the counter to place her order, she just kind of looked around like she owned the place and disapproved before making a bee-line over to Mooney. She didn't sit down at the counter, either. I was too far away to overhear but I saw Mooney's body language became stiff. I decided that was all the invitation I needed to barge into the conversation.
"I think you fail to understand, beta," Maggie was saying. "I need to talk to you and I'm not going to stand here at the counter like a pig at the feed trough."
"Can I get you something," I said quickly before Mooney, who quite clearly knew she was making a dig at him, said something snarky that he might regret later.
"Go away," Maggie sneered at me. I smiled my sweetest smile and Mooney looked at me uncertainly.
"I'm sorry, Miss Novak, but the tables are for paying customers. We're very busy today so I must ask you to buy something or leave."
"And if I demanded to talk to the owner of this dive?" she replied with the same saccharin tone.
"You are speaking to one of them. But please don't feel compelled to remain here if you feel it isn't up to your personal standards." We stared at each other for a long minute with Mooney sitting back watching like he was expecting a fight to break out any second. Finally, Maggie's eye turned gleefully cruel.
"I'll have a triple latte skinny no-whip with one half pump of pumpkin spice syrup and none of that monkey frou-frou stuff. Extra hot."
I smiled even wider and left to go fix her drink. Oh, I knew she thought she'd won by making me serve her, but she forgot that this was my place of business. It didn't lower my status to serve a customer. Shape shifters who owned restaurants served their customers without losing status, and I'm not even a shifter. That being said, there was nothing saying I had to meekly take that insult just because I didn’t have a body hair issue.
I slipped behind the bar and grabbed a mug, shooing Gloria, who still had not left the shop, away when she tried to butt in.
"You shouldn't wait on her!" Gloria hissed anxiously. "She'll take it as you backing down from a challenge!"
"She isn’t the first bitch I've dealt with, Glo," I said, still grinning. "I want there to be no confusion about who fixed her drink."
"Trust me, she's going to know that I know how to play this dominance game. I saw Lex do this lots of times. It's an acceptable way for a dual-natured entity who owns a business to snub someone without having to refuse them service."
"Oh!" she exclaimed. "Because refusing her service would signal fear—"
"Whereas offering deliberately shoddy service offers a challenge, yes. Watch and learn, my young friend." I eyed the steaming cup of coffee and milk—extra hot, as requested—and debated on the extras. She’d said one-half pump of pumpkin spice syrup, but I didn’t want to waste it. It’s my bestselling flavor this time of year and I’m almost out. Just then, I heard a ruckus out in the seating are and looked up in time to see Mooney go from defensive to furious. I couldn’t help myself, I had to pop into his mind. With a quick shuffling of magic in my chi, I flipped on the telepomancy spell.
[Everything was going along perfectly for the first time since I moved back here at my FORMER best brother’s request. I got a hot girl and work I actually like and then this. This mangy, self-important coyote sashays in and informs me—and everyone listening—that she agreed to go out with me in exchange for getting tickets to that blue-blood pack function in a few days. And when I asked what the bleeding hell she was baying about, she informs me that my alpha had offered her an invite to that New Year’s Eve ball or whatever it was the Hancock Pack had planned. Like. Hell.]
Oh, hell. I grab the paper to-go cup, put a shot of three random kinds of syrup in the drink, swirled it with a spoon once and then charged out to keep my hunky wolf out of trouble. If his alpha sent the bitch, publically refusing to go to the ball with her would constitute a direct challenge, something Mooney probably didn’t want to do. I forget who said you should never make permanent mistakes in the name of temporary anger, but it was good advice.
“So you think Mooney should grace you with his arm for this event because?” I purred as I set the to-go cup on the counter in front of Maggie.
“I wasn’t talking to you, ape,” Maggie sneered. “So where were we. Oh, yes! Mooney, you will come with me now so I can get a look in your closet, make sure you own something appropriate for a high society function.”
“Um, no,” Mooney said dismissively.
[You have to go with her to the party, babe,] I thought at him with my still open mind link.
[Why, because my brother thinks I need to go on a date with this she-bag?]
[Because your alpha wants you there,] I shot back. [And because it’s a ticket into the Hancock party. Ghan’s an egotistical asshat; there’s a good chance he’ll try something. With you on the inside and me on the outside, we’re sure to catch it in time to turn it back on him.]
“Well, that will save a trip because if you don’t have anything presentable, we can go right out and rent you a tux or something,” Maggie pontificated, sounding she thought she was high society herself. Mooney and I snorted at the same time, then traded mutual looks of ridicule. It was kind of nice having someone who understood my sense of humor, I realized with a smile.
“No, I do not need you to dress me, Maggie,” Mooney cut it. “I’m a big boy and I do know how to do that myself.”
“I want to see the outfit you want plan to wear,” she sniffed. And then sniffed again, this time at her drink. “What did you put in my drink?” she asked shrilly.
“Um, I have no idea,” I answered truthfully. And I didn’t; I’d just put one pump of three flavors in without looking.
“I’m on a diet, you cow! I hope you aren’t expecting me to drink this!”
“Nope, I wasn’t expecting anything as civilized as that,” I replied, again truthfully. “You came here looking for a fight, not refreshment.”
“I needed to speak to my date for the Hancock gala,” she snarled through clenched teeth.
“Someone gave you my boyfriend’s phone number, I presume? If you wanted to arrange for a work assignment, all you had to do was call him,” I said sweetly, mentally preparing for the fight I knew was coming. There were quite a few non-shifter customers and all of them were paying rapt attention, especially once I’d let it slip that Mooney was my guy. The shifters may or may not be pulling favorites, but every single human was now firmly on my side. From Mooney, I was getting a buzz of confusion, so I shut down the mind link. I was going to need every bit of focus I could scrounge. I may have stacked the odds as far in my favor as I could, but Maggie Novak was no push-over.
She threw her coffee at me, extra hot as she had ordered, of course. I knew it was coming. Making yourself take a hit like right in the face is hard, but I took it. Oh, crap, extra hot coffee and eyelids do not mix well!
No one moved. No one but me, anyway. I had to let the skank have the first hit so that I would be released from the code of hospitality, but it was my turn now. And this was my turf. I whipped my table rag out of my apron pocket, spun it tightly and snapped her with it right in the ass. I was wiping the remains of the hot coffee out of my eyes when one of the ugly throw pillows I kept on the sitting room couch hit me upside the head. Seriously? Did that bitch just throw my own pillow at me? Game on!

* * * * * * * * * *

“Marissa. Darling,” a slimy voice called from behind the door. I huffed, annoyed even more than before because I now had to clean up the mess I’d made. That snaggle-toothed old coyote didn’t fight half bad. Of course, now my little business would be a major draw to both humans and shifter—the various races all loved a good cat fight. I was also wondering when Maggie would realize she’d been liberally dusted with mange powder during the scuffle. Probably just in time to look like a red hot mess for her fancy society thing.
Mooney had left with Maggie so she could make sure the suit he said he owned was appropriate for the ball and everyone else had fled the coffee shop soon after, so I was stuck doing clean-up by myself. I had tried not to be bitter about that, but clearly I had not succeeded.
“What Lex?” I huffed once it became clear he wasn’t going to say anything until I acknowledged him. I pumped every ounce of annoyance into my voice I could scrounge, though. I still had to do another wash down to make sure I got all the magical contamination cleaned up and I didn’t want to argue with a pissed off cat while I cleaned. A long pause caused me to look back at the hairless little freak. Lex looked beyond pissed, I realized.
“I still hold your fate in my hands, bitch,” Lex said in a warning tone, his deep voice almost a growl, clearly understanding my unspoken jab.
“Witch, Lex. I’m a witch, not a bitch.” I turned my back on him and continued cleaning up the coffee shop.
“I told you to get close to the mutt, not fight over him,” Lex said as he gingerly made his way over to the counter from the back room. “What part of that didn’t you understand? First last night at the super club and now this. It makes you look like a child desperately clinging to a toy she doesn’t want to lose.”
“Lex, these are canids we’re talking about. Mooney isn’t going to pay me any real attention unless he thinks he’s going to get some. And the female is always the one to make the first move.”
“Admit it,” he hissed. “You actually do want to—how is it you hairless apes put it?—hit that.”
“Yes, O Great Hairless Cat Leader, us hairless apes do say that,” I drawled, rolling my eyes as I emptied the bucket of water and disinfectant I’d been using to clean up with. It wouldn’t do for my customers to end up with mange and nothing cleaned that up better than pinesol, for some strange reason. Maggie would know full well where she got it from, but if anyone else started molting and smelling bad, public opinion might take pity on her and believe the big bad human had maliciously harmed her. “Besides,” I said as I refilled the bucked and began mopping the floor again, “I already did ‘hit that.’ And it was good, too. If I get a chance, I’ll probably ‘hit that’ again.”
“You sound like a whore,” Lex jeered. “He’s not even a felix.”
“Of course Mooney isn’t felix; he’s a wolf,” I said, ignoring the whore bit. Lex doesn’t talk like that unless he’s trying to be horrible. Hell, he doesn’t even call actual people who make a living by providing sex ‘whores.’ The real meat of that insult was the thing about Mooney’s pack standing.
“Look, Lex, he’s a male and I’m a female. All our parts line up well enough,” I sighed, getting tired of this childish game. We play it every time he thinks I’m starting to get serious with a guy, making me wonder if I, at twenty-three, weren’t more mature than the cat who holds my leash, or if this was what passed for parental concern for cat gods. “I don’t really care about pack standing and he’s fun and convenient. I don’t know why you care who I date, anyway.”
“Because whatever you do reflects back onto me, monkey-child.”
“Ya know, Lex,” I said, huffing a bit because I’d begun speed mopping. “If you don’t like how my actions reflect back on you, you could always release me from your service.”
“And if you don’t like my meddling in your personal life, you could always leave my service of your own free will. You are over the age of twenty-one and emancipated,” he replied, his tone growing silky again.
“You know why I won’t leave,” I snapped. “What I don’t understand is why you won’t officially release me. It’s not like you have any use for my powers anyway.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t say that,” Lex replied gloatingly. I stopped mopping to stare at him, partially shocked and partially mad.
“I have no access to your native power, true,” he conceded, “but since I locked those away when you were just a child, you haven’t developed them.”
“What do you mean, my natural powers? I’m still using magic the same way I’ve always used it.” It was a question, but I was afraid I knew the answer.
“No, my darling,” Lex said, shaking his head mournfully, a mannerism that he’d perfected long before I ever knew him. “You’ve been using the sympathetic magic I taught you after I bound your true magic. Since I taught you those skills, they are mine until I formally give them to you. But I don’t have to give them to you, just as you don’t have to stay in my service.” He got up to leave but paused and looked back over his shoulder at me. “You might not want to get too attacked you’re your little wolfie, Marissa dear. He doesn’t seem to be overly attacked to you.”
With his words, a vision swam over me, sent by Lex. I could hear him chuckling as he walked away but my mind was full of other things.

“Did you hear that?” Mooney asked as he poured someone a glass of tea. He was standing in a small kitchenette, the kind found in efficiency apartments. It was a very clean space even though it was the size of a postage stamp, with nothing on the counters other than a coffee pot and a toaster. He spun around and put the pitcher of tea back in the fridge, and that was also almost empty, containing mostly condiment bottles and a few cans of cheap beer.
“Feel what?” Maggie said as she walked out of what had to be the bedroom. My blood froze as I realized that Lex, the shit, was sending me a real-time vision of Mooney and Maggie in what had to be Mooney’s bachelor apartment. It doesn’t matter, I told myself as I watched the snaggle-toothed old coyote running her hand over a book case full of trophies in Mooney’s living room. I knew he had taken her to see his suite. It only made sense that he’d have to take her to his apartment to see it since he wasn’t the type to have a bunch of clothes at the cleaners.
“Nothing,” Mooney said with an uncomfortable shrug. “Here’s your tea. So what did you think of my wardrobe? Will it be sufficient for this party?”
“It will,” she said as she left the living room area and walked all slinky and sultry towards him. “I like your place. I was expecting something early fraternity house, but this is really quite comfortable.”
Mooney didn’t say anything but he also didn’t pull away when the bitch draped herself all over him like a limp weed. I tried to pull out of the vision when she began unbuttoning his shirt but I couldn’t. Dammit, Lex! I did not want to see this!
“So,” Mooney said as he set her unclaimed glass of iced tea on the counter behind him. He jutted his chin back toward the bedroom. “You wanna?”
“I thought you’d never ask,” she purred.

I came out of the vision slowly to find myself kneeling in a puddle of spilled mop water, tears running down my face. Goddamn him! Goddamn them both and goddamn Lex while I was at it!

Tuesday, October 21, 2014

"I'll be wantin' your claws later."

Closer and closer howls and yowls, shapeshifter lovers.

A bit of authorly news... I've finished the first round of edits for RIDE THE ROAN STUD, written by my alter ego, Stevie Klark, Now, I'm looking forward to the cover art.

Okay, here's the third flash scene in my short series of flashes leading up to the Halloween Blog Hop ~ October 27-31. For the setup, and to read the first one, click on the title Time to unmask my inner cat...
And for the second flash scene ~ Nothing scarier to a man... check last week's blog.


From last week...

Sherilyn followed Pasha's gaze, seeing the very skimpy, nail-polish red costume. "Ohmy! Omy effing stars." 


"I'll be wantin' your claws later."

"What do you think?" Pasha seductively crooned. "Do you think my wolf-man wants me in chains?"

"Chain...chain...chain..." Sherilyn softly sang the lyrics, trying not to imagine White Fang's lust with Pasha. Dismissing the images, she studied the exact design of the 'barely there' costume.

Fine golden chains connected circles of red satin that would barely cover Pasha's nipples. The sensual drape of chains covered the translucent mannequin's shoulders, and crisscrossed over the back. More of the delicate chains were linked to the small triangle of red satin designed to cover Pasha's sex. The fragile-appearing golden chains had also been fashioned to exquisitely drape over her hips and ass.

Sherilyn couldn't help it, asking, "Have you paraded around in something similar? I imagine the feel of those chains slipping over your skin would be quite erotic."

"Quite, indeed. But to answer your question. No, in my long life I've yet to 'parade' around in such a similar enticement. However, gemstone beads draped against your skin, or moving as fringe, heightens the erotic nature."

"I just bet it does," Sherilyn murmured, as sensual tingles slithered over her sex mound. She lifted her gaze to the costume's headdress, a realistic looking lioness, yet with finer features. And the coat color was a deep gold tinged by fiery red.

"Okay, Pasha, I have to ask. Is that what you look like when you shift?"

Pasha sang a deep purr. "Close enough. Although I would prefer none know my true appearance as cat. Word travels fast in the supernatural underground. Then, those who hunt us rise like relentless ghouls."

"It's not easy being a goddess," Sherilyn lightly bantered to take the edge off. She squeezed Pasha's arm as a show of empathy.

"Not when you traverse the human world, and befriend them." Pasha drew in a quick breath, palpable in its pain, then continued. "Immortality has its drawbacks."

The sorrow in Pasha's voice hit Sherilyn square in the heart. "Yes. The loss of a loved never get over it. You simply move on with life."

"I understand your parents departed this material world. And your brother lives in the crystal world. May I offer my belated condolences."

Sherilyn choked back an involuntary sob, pain penetrating her heart like a dart. She'd been so happy of late, it was easy to believe the wounds had disappeared. "Condolences on the loss of your friend...all of your losses," she awkwardly added.

"You are kind." Pasha stroked Sherilyn's arm as if it was a pet cat. "Perhaps, too kind at times. It is good that Zance and Dontoya watch over you, protect you."

"It certainly is easy to be 'kind' to them. Well, most of the time. Zance likes riling me up occasionally, just so I use my verbal fangs on him."

Pasha throatily laughed, and the air cleared as if a storm passed them by. "I well understand, my friend. White Fang can't resist raising my feline hackles. He adores it when I chase him. Claws included."

Sherilyn blushed at the revealed intimacy, even as Pasha steered them toward a grouping of leopardess sexy-wear. She wasn't certain why. Perhaps, it had been the sheer sexual truth she'd heard in Pasha's voice.

"Question if I may." Sherilyn began, as they moved to admire a collection of Big Cat headdresses done in white plush, some with a silvery shimmer... others with gold and bronze glistening their faux fur.

"About the Ubarions?" Pasha stroked her fingertip down the nose of a beautiful white lioness.

"Yes. Were they too kind as a race?"

"Overall, as I understand their evolution, yes. However, their kindness also brought great rewards. Originally, they were introduced to space travel because of their intelligence but also because of their sweet natures. Although, by that time, the Ubarions had learned to ferociously protect themselves. When needed."

"Fascinating," Sherilyn murmured. Pasha's words resonated, no doubt.

"There you are, sweetheart." Zance's voice carried throughout the large showroom. So did Dontoya's low irritated growl.

"I sniffed her out first." Sherilyn heard Dontoya's growly whisper to Zance.

 As they turned toward her mates, Sherilyn confidentially told Pasha, "They have this thing about cat-and-dog quarreling over me."

"Can't you see this is girl time?" Sherilyn teasingly chided at their approach. Damn, if every inch of her didn't turn all steamy with desire. Like always.

"Ms. Pasha." Dontoya bowed respectfully, and with an elegance that had Sherilyn's heart rate tripping madly. She loved it when he played the gentleman. Just as she loved it when Zance played the bad-boy wrangler with her.

"Ms. Pasha," Zance echoed, the intense gleam of his eyes showing his respect.

"Gentlemen, your mate and I haven't selected our costumes yet. May I suggest you enjoy libations if you've already chosen your 'barely there' beast costumes." Pasha's tone was pure lazy seduction. Yet the smile Sherilyn observed was all cat goddess command.

"Have you chosen?" Sherilyn asked, privately amused by the scenario.

"Not yet. Me and Dontoya had a hankerin' to see you first." Zance flashed a grin. "Besides, all this fantasy lingerie sure puts a cowboy in a buckin' mood."

"Sure does," Dontoya rumbled, his underlying tone raw dark heat.

Without warning, he seized Sherilyn's upper arm. Hauling her close, Dontoya possessed her lips. His kiss sizzled shock and awe through Sherilyn, and she almost melted completely.

"My turn," Zance wolf-growled. Swinging Sherilyn into his embrace, Zance planted a kiss on her mouth, even as he dipped her over his beast-strong arm. 

Dizzy with pleasure, Sherilyn could barely stand once Zance brought her upright, his mouth still clinging to hers.

"Later, sweetheart," Zance promised, then stepped back.

"Go away," Sherilyn hissed, the instant sanity returned. "Before I make a fool out of myself and leap on you... both of you, and claw your clothes off."

"Sure thing, darlin'," Dontoya drawled, smooth as fine bourbon. "I'll be wantin' your claws later."


Wishing you love and passion on the wild side ...


Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance

Monday, October 20, 2014

Ride 'Em, Cowboy!

Twice a month the Pleasure Club held a Ladies’ Night. “That don’t mean you get to dress up like a lady,” Jamie said to Lamar. “I do that all the time,” Lamar said in response. “Ladies’ Night gives me a chance to switch up. Keeps the act fresh.”

When he and Jamie responded to Mooney’s call and he saw the huge stuffed unicorn abandoned at the side of the road, inspiration struck. Over Jamie's objections he'd lugged the big toy home, and started planning.

The Thursday night crowd was a rowdy bunch. The women wanted men, and they wanted them handsome, muscular, mostly naked and gyrating up on the stage. Lamar had all that covered, except for the musclebound part. Snakes just couldn’t bulk up, not even the constrictors. On the other hand, no man and very few women on earth could out-gyrate a snake.

Jamie was seated in the front row as usual, and getting jostled by howling, slavering women. The previous acts had whipped them into a frenzy. Even the herbivores were clamoring for blood, or other body fluids. Everybody knew Lamar was the best male (and occasionally female) dancer in the club, after Gypsy. He hadn’t revealed his new routine’s specifics to Jamie, just smirked a lot. He’d taken almost obsessive care of the stuffed unicorn, brushing its mane and fluffing its fur.

Please, Jamie prayed to the wolf gods, don’t let it be too obscene.

The stage lights came up. Lamar burst through the curtain. He had on a cowboy hat, a leather vest, chaps, boots, and a gun belt slung low on his narrow hips, with the single holster and a long-barreled Colt positioned where mammalian men kept their hardware. He came out firing cap pistols, with the stuffed unicorn positioned between his knees as if he were riding it. The unicorn had a condom on its horn. Jamie groaned and prayed harder.

Lamar did a high-legged dismount and went into his sinuous dance. The women crowded the stage and waved dollar bills. Lamar turned his bare butt to them and twerked hard enough to rattle the Colt in its holster. He flashed a smirky grin at his audience, but mostly at Jamie.

“Why do I do this?” Jamie muttered to himself. His lament went unheard beneath the screams of the women. “Why do I punish myself like this? I ain’t even Catholic.”

But dayum, the boy could dance up a storm. Wasn’t nobody on earth could dance like a snake with its sex drive cranked up to the max. Jamie crossed his legs to hide his hard-on. Again, nobody noticed. Nobody except Lamar. The women might think otherwise, but Jamie knew that grin and wink combo was meant for him alone. What Lamar kept in the pouch behind the holster belonged to him alone, too. Jamie gave up on his scowl—Lamar always ignored it anyway—and grinned back. Lamar responded with a hip roll that got a whole passel of dollar bills waving in his direction.

After a drop to the stage floor for some serious suggestive writhing, Lamar fetched up against the unicorn. He pursed his lips and planted a kiss on the plush creature’s muzzle.

The spell Marissa had placed on the beast over the phone chose that precise moment to wear off.

The whole room shook with shrieks when the stuffed toy unicorn suddenly shimmered and grew to life size. Nobody screamed louder than Lamar. He dove off the stage into the crowd, fought his way to Jamie, and scrambled into his lover’s lap. His arms coiled around Jamie’s neck in a stranglehold.

“Dayum,” Jamie said. “I knew you had a kiss that can wake the dead, but dayum!”

“That wasn’t part of the act!” Lamar hissed. “Moon Moon! He set me up, the stinking—” His hiss dissolved into raging Spanish.

Meanwhile, the unicorn stood on the stage and stared out quizzically at the audience. He blinked and shook his horn. The remains of the condom split and went flying. The unicorn finally located Lamar amid the chaos and extended his muzzle. Lamar shrank back against Jamie.

“Does this mean no second date?” the unicorn said.

# # #

The unicorn’s name was Hugh. He could assume a human form, but chose to stay in his unicorn shape because the women clearly liked it better. They sashayed past Lamar and Jamie’s table in a steady stream, to fondle his sparkling horn or run their fingers through his mane. Hugh did nothing to discourage this, though he politely passed any dollars they waved at him over to Lamar. As far as the Pleasure Club patrons were concerned, this was the best damn show the snake had ever put on.

“I don’t know how I missed this place,” Hugh said. “I have got to come back here.”

“They’re not virgins, y’know,” Jamie warned him. “Good luck finding a virgin anywhere in Talbot’s Peak.”

“I’m not into virgins. That’s a misconception. It’s purity that gets us galloping. This whole room’s pure sex right now.” He bared his big horse teeth. “Me like.”

“Listen,” Lamar started. “When you were, uh, a stuffed toy … ”

“Do I remember anything? Just bits and pieces. I didn’t mind it, really. I was plenty drunk when I passed out. Stuffed toys don’t get hangovers. Thanks for all the brushings, by the way. My coat’s never looked better.”

“Any time,” Lamar said. “Um. Is one of those bits and pieces … ”

“The night you two played Lone Ranger and Zorro in the kitchen? Oh yeah. That was pure, too. Loved the ‘sword’ fight.” He winked. “I’m normally into women, but any time you boys would like a third—”

“We’re good,” Jamie said quickly.

Hugh rippled his coat in a striking rainbow shrug. “Your loss. Y’think maybe I can get some of these fine ladies to buy me a hard cider?”

Sunday, October 19, 2014

SNEAK PEEK SUNDAY: Her Midnight Stardust Cowboys ~ Chapter Thirty-four

Her Midnight Stardust Cowboys

Note: This week Zance is enjoying Sherilyn's erotic beauty. 

The first six X-paragraphs from ~

Chapter Thirty-four:
Naked, Zance sat on...

Naked, Zance sat on the bedside chair, a comfortable but functional piece of furniture Dontoya often used for late-night reading. Lounging back, he kept a tight grip his ready-to-fire six shooter, as he thought of his cock, right now.

Howling gods, to watch Sherilyn in the throes of passion stirred his innards like a cyclone was entering. Even so, Zance remained alert for anything harmful to his mate's mendin'. His nose told him she healed just fine.

As he watched the way Sherilyn surrendered to Dontoya's fucking rhythm, Zance's shaft throbbed something terrible. In the midmorning light, her erotic beauty was a purely wicked pleasure.

Her skin glistened, all pearly like. Her womanly curves were downright sumptuous, and so pleasing to his hedonistic senses Zance wanted to lick her like the wolf dog he was.

He couldn't wait to feast on his mate's fleshly charms. Zance wanted to put his hands all over her, feeling the shivers and shimmies of her body as he pleasured her, as he took her on the strength of his cock.

Just observing her, Zance knew Sherilyn possessed untapped reservoirs of passion that he and Dontoya would greedily tap into, bring to the surface.


For more Sunday Sneak Peaks


Blurb & Excerpts for HER MIDNIGHT STARDUST COWBOYS are on the page above.

Wishing you shapeshifting cowboy love on the wild side...


Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance ~

Saturday, October 18, 2014


Gill looked around the council room table.  He counted fifteen people including himself and Rachel.  Rachel would abstain from voting unless a deadlock happened.  Human and shifters gathered for the random meeting.  Each of the sections of the main residential neighborhoods sat at the table.  Cordialness and civility ran rampant this evening.  Gill wondered how much longer this could go on.  His next agenda item affected all of them.  He picked up his gavel and rapped on the table. Fourteen sets of eyes gazed at him.

“Now that I have all of your attention again, I’ve got one more item.  I feel strongly about this one and so do several of our merchants as well as the schools.”  Gill picked up the stack of stapled papers to his left.  He took the top set and hand the rest to Vernon MacMahon who sat to his right.   “This packet includes this year’s trick-or-treat schedule.  With the past two months free of danger and the city experiencing a period of quiet, I recommend we let our children have a night of fun.”

Several murmurs rose and fell as the last of the packets made their way back to the head of the table.  Gill noted everyone had one.  He flipped back the first page.  “Louie down at Rattigan’s is offering apple bobbing contests while the fire department x-rays the goods the kids got.  Making sure nothing is hidden.”

“I thought you said this was a safe time for the kids.” One of the human mothers present raised her hand, shaking the packet as she did.  “Why do we need to x-ray our children’s candy?”

Gill opened his mouth to speak.  Vernon coughed as he slid back his chair before rising.  “Gill, if you don’t mind.  I’ll address this.”

Gill nodded and sat down.  Vernon continued.  “I understand your concern Ma’am.  My wife Ellie said the same thing when we discussed our part in the town’s celebration too.”

“And?”  The woman’s tone didn’t sound any worse or better.  Gill noted the nods as she spoke.  Yes, ensuring their town stated safe mattered to all present.  Good, a united Talbot’s Peak kept everyone safe.

Vernon leaned on his hands on the table, and spoke.  “Keeping everyone safe matters.  While my grandkids can eat carrion pops, your kids can’t.  Sugary treats are good for a few.  What about those that can’t have them?  Knowing the content of what’s in those trick-or-treat bags makes sense.”

The mother nodded vigorously.  Bettina sat next to her.  She looked up and raised her hand.  Gill nodded as he spoke.  “Go ahead Bettina.  You’re next.”

“There are some special needs children amongst us.  A few human parents voiced their concerns over their children not being able to participate in regular trick-or-treating.”  She looked around the table before she sat down.

Gill rose, holding up his hands.  “That’s why the second and third pages are important.  All of Main Street is hosting a costume parade and trick-or-treating event.  We want every child to have fun.”

Miss Elly stood and walked up next to her husband.  “I’ve got pledges from the football and basketball teams from the senior high to police the streets.  They’ve agree to chaperone those needing help or an extra hand during the hours of six-thirty to nine.  In turn, they are having a chaperoned sleepover in the school gym.  Girls on one side. Boys on the other.”

Vernon spoke before anyone else could.  “I’m heading up the overnight chaperoning.  They all know who is working with me. Right Bettina?”

“Right, Vernon.  No one is going to cause trouble and chaos.  Bedlam and harm are not coming back.” Bettina moved to the head of the table.  She stood next to Miss Elly, Vernon, and Gill.  “We want all the children, human and shifter alike, to enjoy Halloween.”

Gill rapped on the table.  “Let’s vote on the celebration and enjoy our children enjoying themselves again.”

Gill waited until Vernon, Miss Elly, and Bettina took their seats.  “All those in favor of the proposed Talbot’s Peak Halloween Celebration raise your hand.”

Fourteen hands rose, including Rachel’s.  Gill smiled as he raised his, calling out.  “The first annual Peak Halloween celebration is a go!”


Happy October Gang!

The colors of fall are upon us.  What beautiful reds, oranges, and yellows mix with the remaining greens of summer.  May your fall be beautiful and full of enjoyment.  Remember to keep a good book or two handy for those moments of quiet as the warmth of the sun reaches out before the chill of winter crisps the air.  Share those books with your spice and loves.  I know I will be!

Until next week,


Friday, October 17, 2014

You're What?

Greely shook.  From the inside to the outside and back again the deep, pre-shift shudders took control.  She had little time to say what was on her mind before she found herself only millimeters off the ground. 

“Gree, honey, are you okay?” Karma attempted to move closer, but Greely couldn’t stand the thought of another being close right now.

“Fair One, please…” Erol, or Lord whoever, reached out only to lower his hand.  Clearly she was broadcasting a do not touch vibe.

“You’re a what?”  Greely looked around, trying to assess where the high-pitched squeal had come from.  Sadly, she was the only one talking so it must be from her.

“I’m a Duke, or more formally, I am the Duke of Wyvern.”

“Wow, way to keep it discreet there, Slimey.”

“Not now, humpback,” Erol barked.

“Stop it, both of you!”  Greely couldn’t think with her friend and lover, The ‘Oh Gawd’ Duke, sniping at each other. “How is this possible, Erol?  And why were you living in Talbot’s Peak?”

“The how, Greely, is actually simple.  My Grand-mum was held captive in this castle for hundreds of years.  The original Duke, loved the idea of being called a Wyvern…thus the Duke of Wyvern.  It wasn’t until after several generations of captivity that a Duke of Wyvern actually fell in love with the dragon in the dungeon.  He freed my Grand-mum, but she was too weak to leave and exhausted from maintaining her dragon form for so long.  She shifted back to her human form and Grandda nursed her back to health.  They eventually married and had my father.  I became Duke a few hundred years ago upon my father’s death.”

“I’m sorry about your father’s death, Erol, but why were you living in Talbot’s Peak if you’re… Royalty?”

“You don’t have to whisper that word, my love.  These days the title is really just that, a title.  I’ll never be the King of England, I’m moreover a man who owns this isle free and clear.  It’s a sanctuary for animals and dragons who need to rest and be safe.  As to why I was in Talbot’s Peak, well, there were rumors of a town in Montana that was a home to shifters of all types.  I had to see how it worked.  I’m not adverse to other shifters staying on my isle for a short time if they need too, but I wasn’t sure how everyone could stay safe.  Now I know the safety is owed entirely to Dante, Nick and the other Alphas in town.  They keep the peace.”

“So you never intended to stay?”

“Not until I met you…”   
Just a shorty from me today as I'm studying for my Algebra midterm.  I'll tell you, I sure feel too old for this stuff...  ;)

Have a great weekend!