Friday, February 5, 2016

The Key is to Blend...

“DJ, of course.”

“Ridiculous, it needs to be live music…something slow and sexy.”

“That is what Sunday is for.  Saturday night needs to be dance music, perhaps techno, and that cannot be created by some sappy band.”

Penny continued to stare at the finely-dressed llama, loathing to admit that he had a point.  A gay bar with a Saturday night dance club would probably draw patrons better than catering to the BDSM crowd who would spend more time in the upstairs dungeon anyway.  Her loathing had more to do with the Domme in her who hated to give in to anyone, but if they wanted Haven to succeed she needed to bend.

“…besides, the lifestylers will be hanging around upstairs anyway.”

Annnnnd, the nail on the head.  “You’re right.  A dance club makes more sense on Saturday night.  Slot that as a DJ night.”

She watched as Whit made notes in his Haven ‘to do’ binder, then reached for the paper next to him.  “Now, how about the flyers,” he said, setting the colorful paper in front of her.

Welcome to Haven!

Come to play with Liza, Freddy and Ziggy, plan to stay for the delights of the flesh.  Dominate your senses and submit to the feasts that surround you.

Get your pride on!

Open: Thur. thru Sun 2 p.m. to 2 a.m.

Penny looked the sheet over and smiled at the picture.  “I can totally see Lamar eagerly posing as Lola, but how did you get Jamie to agree?”

“Ha, that was easy, I found a beefy hunk to model with Lola instead.  Jamie quickly changed his tune…and growled, loudly.  It was kind of funny, he totally shocked both himself and Lola.”

Penny smiled, “that boy is far more alpha than he realizes when it comes to Lamar/Lola.  I love it.  And I love the flyer.
Are you going to rainbow color the paper?”

“Absolutely, but are you sure you don’t want anything more about the BDSM club upstairs?”

“Nope, those in the lifestyle will know but what we have there, plus we have a large network around the state, so word has already been put out about the opening.” Penny stood and straightened her dress.  “We’ll want to have a sub at the door to direct patrons to the correct areas, though.”


“I think we’re ready, Whit.”

“We are.  The final decorating will be done this week and then next week we can open.” 

Whit fidgeted just slightly, but still enough for Penny to witness his discomfort.  “Was there something else Whit?”

“Yes, well, one more time, are you okay with putting these flyers out, outside of Talbot’s Peak?”

“I am.  It’s time we brought in fresh blood.  Limiting ourselves to shifters only will put a large bullseye on our town.  The key is to blend.”

“Then blend we shall…”
Just a peek this week to see how renovations were coming along for Mistress P and Whit's new place.

Have a wonderful weekend!


Thursday, February 4, 2016

Maybe Baby

“So, Doctor,” Brandon Fledermaus said, “what’s the good word?”

Lin Hu bit her lower lip. Normally no-nonsense and direct, she found it difficult to face the owner of the Flying F ranch in this instance. Brand was quite wealthy, and generous with that wealth. Currently he was funding her special research project. True, he stood to benefit from it, but so would many others. Financial aid aside, she liked the man. He was polite and pleasant, for a bat. And never once had he made any jokes regarding her name and that silly TV show.

How could she look this man in the eye and tell him she had failed him yet again?


“Not so good,” she said at last. “The word, I mean.”

Curse it all, it was as she feared. The eagerness, the hope, slowly seeped out of his face. “That’s not to say it’s totally out of the question,” she hastened to add. “I’ve put out a call for volunteers. Those of mixed ancestry, human and shifter. For some reason humans have no trouble interbreeding with shifters. The offspring nearly always have some shifter ability. If I can isolate the genetic factor—”

“No.” He was already reaching for his Stetson. “It’s not that important, not at this time. Leona and I haven’t even discussed marriage yet, let alone … ” That part trailed away. “I’ll continue to contribute to the clinic, of course. You do vital work here. You’re needed.”

Vital to the varied denizens of Talbot’s Peak, perhaps. And to him, though he wouldn’t admit it. Lin touched his arm. “It’s not as if one of you were a bird or a reptile shifter. You’re both mammals. And your bat is at least partly carnivorous, which helps. The odds—”

“The odds of a bat and a jaguar conceiving, let alone birthing a healthy child, fall somewhere between slim to none,” he said, with a wry, humorless smile. “It’s fine, Doctor. I have the ranch, and Leona’s involved with her career. It will be a long time before either of us is ready to have a child. I suppose we can always adopt.”

“But it isn’t the same,” she said. “I know. I feel it too, more often than you know. The beast in us cries out to reproduce. I’ve as much chance of finding a compatible male panda as you do of breeding with a cat. Even if I were still in China. But although the odds are microscopic, they are not nonexistent. And so I keep looking. As I will keep looking, on your behalf.” She tilted her head to peer at him. “You’ve discussed this with Leona, of course?”

“We’ve touched on it. She says she has no interest in becoming a mother right now. Jaguars do tend to be solitary. But sometimes I catch a look in her eyes … I know she’s been thinking about it. I have too. My father and grandfather worked hard, and built an empire. I’ve worked just as hard to keep it successful. I don’t want it all to fall apart when my time comes. I’ve got something I’d be proud to pass on to a son. Or a daughter.” He winked at Lin. “A little girl with Leona’s courage and drive would be a world-beater.”

“There’s still your brother,” Lin reminded him. “Unless that’s out of the question?”

Brand snorted. “Jack hasn’t shown any sign of settling down. I don’t even know where he is right now. But if it came to that … hell, I’d take in a child of his in a second. Even a bastard child. Jack’s borderline psychotic, but he’s still family. If he ever has children, I’ll welcome them. Even leave the ranch to them.” He shrugged and offered up that crooked grin again. “Bats aren’t even that territorial. It must be an alpha male thing.”

“Must this child be a bat? Or part bat?”

“It would be nice. Helpful, even. But beggars can’t be choosers. If we adopt, we’ll have to take whatever breed is available. And hope they want to run a ranch when they grow up. That’s a risk Leona and I will face even if we do conceive together. Children do tend to grow up being who they’ll be.”

Liar, she thought. He spoke so glibly of adoption. The truth, his real desire, his need, still lurked within his eyes. The bone-deep, ancient need to create life and pass on one’s genes to a new generation.

If pandas were lacking she, at least, could fulfill her drives with a raccoon or a human. Brandon and Leona had fallen in love. Two breeds whose genetics would deny them the one thing their most powerful instincts wanted above all.

She’d seen a lot of this in Talbot’s Peak. Shifters, humans, joining, mating, playing mix and match. Sooner or later they all wanted that one basic thing. Some had a fighting chance. Those her gynecological training could help. Others were reproductively doomed from the start. Those she saw as a challenge.

Even if she never had a child of her own, she could see that others weren’t denied.

“I will keep looking,” she promised. “As I said, you’re both mammal shifters. You have a running start. We need only find a way to blend your genes. You may need to find a human surrogate. I can’t guarantee Leona could carry a hybrid to term. Humans seem capable of birthing anything. Genetically they’re quite resilient.”

“You don’t need to do that,” he said, too quickly. His eyes continued to lie. To plead.

She smiled. “Let me continue anyway, for my own amusement. The research is sure to help someone.”

“Yes, that’s true. Especially here. Thank you, Doctor. If you need anything—”

“I will call you. And I will be sure to keep you apprised of my progress.” She lowered her voice. “At some point, I will have to speak to Leona. And run tests.”

Brand grimaced. “Good luck. She’s tough to pin down, and she hates doctors. Better let me talk to her first.” He sighed. “We’ll work something out.”

“I’m sure the three of us will. Good day to you, Mr. Fledermaus.”

A girl entered her office as Brand went out. “You the doctor looking for medical volunteers?” she asked. “I heard you pay.”

“Let’s discuss the details first. You may change your mind. You’re a human-shifter hybrid?”

Her head bobbed. While she spoke, she hopped from foot to foot. “I’m supposed to be. Mom said Dad was human. I don’t know, I never met him. Mom’s a hare. When I shift, my ears are too short and my ass is too big, so who knows? Dad wasn’t a bunny, that’s for damn sure.”

This was good. This was excellent. Rabbits and humans were the most fertile of the breeds. Their genes mixed with practically everything. If she could isolate the common factor— “A simple test will determine your ancestry. Yes, I will pay you. Anything beyond that we’ll have to discuss.”

“Kewl.” The girl was staring at her medical credentials, framed on the wall. “Your name’s really Dr. Who?”

Lin swallowed an ancient Chinese curse. “If you’d please come this way?”

Saturday, January 30, 2016


Dead Eye -- Alyssa Day
For Jack Shepherd, tiger shape-shifter and former soldier, life is heading for a dead end. Dead End, Florida, to be exact. When he learns that he inherited a combination pawn shop/private investigation agency from his favorite uncle, Jack’s first job is to solve his uncle’s murder. Because sometimes it takes a tiger’s eye to see the truth.
Over the holidays as I recuperated from surgery, I got the chance to read the first in a new series by Alyssa Day.  I've read other books by her over the years.  I enjoy her voice and story telling abilities.   Dead Eye is awesome.  Yes, I said awesome!  There I said it again.

Alyssa takes romance tropes, story telling tropes, cliches, and everyday humor of life's foibles and adds a spark of snark and mystery to them.  The story told in first person from Tess Callahan's view is full of twist and turns.  I read to get lost and involved in the story.  This one I did time and time again.  A story that takes my mind off things is worth hooting and hollering about.  And more than once.

I recommended the book to my bestie who doesn't like sparkly were creature stories.  He even enjoyed the book.  While he might not read others in the series, he laughed and hooted with me over the pages that we read to each other or discussed as the writers/authors we are.
Book two won't be out until around April from what Alyssa says.  Keep your eye out for an enjoyable series and laugh out loud read.  I strongly recommend this series.
Private Eye -- Alyssa Day
When Tess Callahan, new owner of Dead End Pawn, meets her grandmother the banshee, life is about to get complicated. When Tess’s partner Jack Shepherd, tiger shapeshifter and P.I., gets involved to help them investigate a banshee-kidnapping spree, life is about to get deadly. Because nothing is ever simple in Dead End, Florida, and sometimes it takes a tiger’s eye to see the truth.


Happy Weekend Gang!

Between returning to work and digging out from the blizzard, I've been real busy.  Pris, my muse and I are busy working on an erotic retelling of Red Ridinghood in an Urban Fantasy format.  I've got a submission out making its rounds with agents and publishers.  When I know more I'll share.  I'm also posting over on my personal blog from time to time too.
Stop by and see what is on the coming soon page.  You might find somthing you like.

Until next week, keep sharing a good book or two with your loves and spice.


Friday, January 29, 2016



“Excuse me.”

“Shh… mmm…” Penny held up one finger to silence the infidel who dared interrupt her on the last few pages of the most awesome of books.

“…and they fucked happily until dawn when the terrorists charged the ramshackle shack and the boys were forced to run…”

“Ohmygawd, Lamar you slippery snake!”  She slammed the book closed and down onto her desk and looked up at the Thin White Duke before her. “Hello there.”

Penny momentarily forgot her frustration with Lamar and his love of cliffhangers when she got a look at the boy before her.  Okay, man rather.  Though man he might be, he gave off a flavor of submissive boy in need of a good Domme, or Dom, depending on his bent.

“Yes, hello, could you point me in the direction of one Mistress Penelope, please?”

“You’re in luck, Stardust, I’m her.”

“Ah, another fan.  There may be hope for this town after all.  The name's Whit.”

So proper, the Mistress in her thought. Something she’d enjoy working out of him at the end of her whip.

“Hello Whit.”  She reached for his extended hand.  His shake was firm, but the skin quite soft.  The rest of his skin would likely be just as soft, a perfect canvas for the varying shades of red she’d like to give him.  “What can I do for you?”

“A common acquaintance, Lola, suggested I talk to you about an idea I have been contemplating should I decide to stay in this lovely town.”

“Hmm, if Lola suggested it, I can’t wait to hear your idea,” Penny purred, hoping this would lead to a bit of playtime for she, Burgess, Danny, and this new call cup of water. “He always seems to think he knows just what I’m considering, before I even consider it.”

“Well, good then.”  Penny watched as Whit slid back into the chair and laying his overcoat across his crossed legs.  “You see, this town appears to be lacking a place for the homosexual population to get our bent on, though Lola implied there were not a large number of gays who actually lived here.”

“That’s true.”

“Lola also implied that there was quite a bdsm following in town and that you, Mistress P, were the one to talk to about the possibility of combined the two and possibly creating a bit of a haven for both bents?”

Lamar, you sneaky snake…
, she thought before smiling at the proper boy before her.  “Stardust, it appears Lola, or Lamar as I’m sure he introduced himself…”

“He did.”

“…was reading my mind, because I have been working on an idea for a bdsm club of sorts and you just gave it the perfect name.  Haven.”


Whit smiled at the gorgeous and colorful shifter before him, while approving of the name she’d put out there.  It was perfect.

“So it seems, Whit, that you should be a part of this adventure with me, but tell me, are you into bdsm?”

“Oh, I enjoy more than just a bit of slap and tickle with my tête-à-têtes, but my interest in Haven will be to create a place where gay men and women can go to meet and mingle.  Is there a problem with that?”

“Absolutely not, we can make this work for both our ideas.”

Whit stood as the Mistress before him did and wondered where to go next with this idea.

“How about we get some lunch and discuss the particulars.” His new partner asked.

“That sounds delightful.” 

It seemed he would be staying in Talbot’s Peak, hopefully for a good, long time.

“One question though, Stardust…”


“Male or female top?”

Have a wonderfully bent weekend!


Thursday, January 28, 2016

Retro post: The Magnificent Seven

Time got away from me this week. Between shoveling massive amounts of snow and dealing with a huge freelance assignment on a tight deadline, I had no time to come up with a new blog. So you're getting a rerun this week.

However -- I'm working on another continued storyline, a la Love to the Rescue. I want to start with some prologue posts to introduce the players, since some of them haven't been seen for a while. This bunch, who debuted over a year ago, play prominent roles in the story. Buckle in, spanky, the road's liable to get bumpy ahead.

# # #

The old school bus rolled up the interstate and crossed into Montana at speeds at odds with its shabby appearance. Inside it had been refurbished into a mobile transport with generous living accommodations, and more defenses than one would expect from its faded yellow exterior.

Like the bus, its passengers were more than their outward appearance suggested. There were seven of them.

The casual observer’s attention is almost always drawn first to the leopard. Though only of average height, he’s generously muscled and uncommonly handsome. He has a habit of staring down others, as if constantly assessing how their flesh might taste.

Surely one so powerful in body and personality must be the one in charge. You might think that. You’d be wrong. Watch closely, and you’ll see him defer to the diminutive woman with the striking black-and-white hair. Cool, quick-witted, quicker still in flight, the gyrfalcon leads this team. Her keen eyes miss nothing. She has commanded these commandos for five years now. Under her watch, they’ve never failed.

The two wolves are the trackers of the group. They’re so similar in appearance and personality, as alike as twins, that it’s hard to credit they’re from separate packs. The male counts coyote blood among his ancestry; the female boasts of fox. These genetic combinations make them more imaginative than the average wolf. It also makes them reckless, and dangerous. Only their respect for the gyrfalcon keeps their wilder impulses in check.

The owl is their tech man. There isn’t a system on the planet he can’t crack, no computer program he can’t hack. He likes to fiddle with random electronic devices just to see what new inventions he can come up with. He once fashioned a Taser from a garage-door opener and a TV remote. As a boy he’d had two posters on his bedroom wall: Nikola Tesla and MacGyver.

Out of the seven, most people instinctively recoil from the crocodile. He honestly can’t understand this. He’s an Australian freshwater croc, mild-mannered and a trained botanist. What the owl is to gadgets, the freshie is to plants. He can whip up a poultice or a poison with equal ease, as the situation demands. He’s also a talented cook. The team might eye their dishes sidelong, but the falcon trusts him. That’s all the others need.

Except, of course, for the assassin.

The team’s hired killer trusts no one, not even the falcon. He’s an English Dorset sheep, and quite psychotic. The others don’t particularly care for him. The sheep is fine with that. Raised as prey in a world run by predators, he developed a philosophy of “get them before they get you.” When it comes to getting people, the sheep can be quite inventive. He doesn’t partake of the freshie’s meals, preferring to prepare his own food. He doesn’t sleep much, or soundly, and often bleats wild unexpected laughter.

Given a choice, the gyrfalcon would not have had him or any assassin on her team. But she hadn’t been given a choice. Their orders had been depressingly specific. “Infiltrate Talbot’s Peak,” their master said. “Become friendly with its people. Learn its secrets. Here is the list of people I wish you to pay particular attention to. When the time is right, I shall contact you with further instructions.”

That time is nearly here. Lives will change. And end.

Wednesday, January 27, 2016

Samatha the Pizza Lady

I am a bad girl who forgot to post last week. I did set a calendar event to remind me this week, though. Here you go!


* * * * * * * * * * * *

Samantha looked at the receipts tucked into the pizza boxes Jarod turned around for her. Receipts, plural, meaning this was a double. Both addresses were more or less inside city limits, which explained why he’d promised to let her go afterward. A, it would probably take a full hour to make the round trip, and B, no one else on shift tonight was willing to make late night deliveries to town since that trouble a few weeks back. She sighed and loaded the orders into separate heated pizza bags. Oh, well. The townies did have a tendency to tip well which might be enough to pull tonight’s average out of the “just barely covered my expenses” range and into “have money left over to add to the stash”. In this profession, tips were king.

Like most pizza joints in the US, Jarod’s drivers were paid minimum wage while in the store, but only while in the store. Once she was routed, and she already was since she already had the receipts, she was officially off the clock and no longer making an hourly wage. Instead, she would get five percent of the base order price in commission. Not the full sticker price, only the price before taxes and the delivery fee was added. To make a buck a run, the customer had to order twenty bucks in just food, which meant twenty-five in total price. Hence the reason tips were king to pizza delivery drivers.

The first house was nothing too unusual for Talbot’s Peak. Granted, it did have a gargoyle/demon thing sitting on the wall right outside the driveway, and that thing had a motion sensor that made its eyes light up when a vehicle approached. It had scared the shit out of her the first time she’d delivered here. It also turned on the porch and driveway lights. She could deal with creepy red LED eyes if it meant not having to stumble around in the dark to find the front door. That customer was always happy to chat for a few minutes, and she was always happy to listen to him rattle on about his newest oddball creation in exchange for the ten dollar tip he tended to give drivers he liked.

The next address was a new one to her. She consulted the Google app on her phone while she was in an area she knew had good service, memorized the route, and then shut the app down so it wouldn’t siphon her battery down to nothing if she went into a roaming area. Most of Montana was a roaming area for Sprint, she’d discovered. She turned the radio up a bit when the theme song for “The Peak After Dark” drifted from the speakers. According to Google Maps, it would take her a good fifteen minutes to get to the semi rural bar with her load of ten extra-large Mega Meaty pizzas. Might as well listen to what movie Ralph Bruin was going to make fun of tonight. Odds were about fifty-fifty that they wouldn’t rerun New Year’s Eve’s review of Star Wars yet again. For some reason, fans of the show kept requesting it instead of requesting songs, but it seemed to be tapering down somewhat.