The Unexpected Pet Arrives for Halloween

Dragon Pumpkin Carving 

HAPPY HOWL-O-WEEN

This Flash Scene was originally posted at SHAPESHIFTER SEDUCTIONS, and continues Siolastre and Dallas Red Cloud's story. Hope you enjoy.
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The Unexpected Pet Arrives for Halloween

"Punkin' Chunkin'," Dallas explained to Sio, then slipped his arm around her waist.

His naive, 'from another world' woman stared, enraptured as one of the catapults launched another large pumpkin. Cheers and howls erupted as the plump giant sailed through the crisp chilly air. Missing the target, it bounced on the hard ground, bursting in great messy chunks.

"Oh, splat!" she yelled under her breath. Heedless of his arm, Sio hopped up and down with the enthusiasm of a child -- certainly a match for the Talbot's Peak's youngsters surrounding them.

After their first long lunch together, Dallas had lured 'the loveliest woman he'd ever seen, and smelled' into an official date. But, only by promising to be her guide during the various Halloween-Samhain events around town.

He'd discovered during their conversation that Sio -- while highly knowledgeable about American Earth culture -- was a total newbie when it came to trick-or-treat.

She'd tilted her head, a puzzled frown on her radiantly beautiful face when he talked about costume parties and other spooky celebrations. With her chin planted on palm, a smile on her rosepink lips, she'd eagerly listened to the stories he told about the wacky weirdness that gripped adults like a slavering werewolf, which included humans, shapeshifters, and the supernatural crowd.

After much reflection about their punkin' chunkin' date, Dallas decided to bring Sio to the kiddie-land version of the catapult war zone.  War zone, because he was damn certain pumpkins would be flying fast and furious, given the recent the family feud between the McMahon werewolf boys and the Ewing bighorn siblings.

That is, if he knew Nick McMahon at all. And he did, having surveilled the editor of the G&B Gazette since arriving.

"Smack! Crash!" His Sio Rio bounced beside him.

Even through the padding of their coats and clothing, Dallas felt the shapely curve of her hip and thigh. Whoa there, he silently reminded himself and his rising cock.

He'd have to move real slow and easy with her, if he meant to win her affection, her heart. Besides, Sio possessed the zapping power to knock him off his feet. Should she want to.

"What is this odd obsession with hurling fruit?" She leaned against his side, her small frame a pleasure Dallas couldn't find words for.

'Course, his blood was busy flowing elsewhere other than his brain. "Obsession?"

"First the tomato hurling art at Rattigan. Then those boys used my apples as play weapons. Now, it's flying bombastic pumpkins."

"Bombastic. Yep, they sure are." Dallas searched his uncooperative faculties for a quick answer. "Something primitive about it. And good for the soul. Better than smashing heads, don't you think?"

"Violence avoidance. Yes, that makes sense. And it's fun, too."

Her little hand found his, and she held on sweetly. Dallas watched her follow the flight of several pumpkins flung toward the large cardboard castle. Since not many had struck, the makeshift construction still stood proudly, banners waving.

"What about the seeds?" she asked long moments later. "Who is going to plant them?"

The concern in her voice had Dallas inspecting Sio's flushed face to make certain she still felt well. Her scent told him she was just fine, and enjoying herself.

Before answering, Dallas took a moment, indulging in her fragrance. Lifted by the brisk breezes, her feminine perfume filled his lungs, and invigorated his cock. Once again.

"Tell you what, Sio Rio," Dallas spoke as inspiration came to his rescue, "if no one claims those seeds we'll just have a picking-up party, and save them for next Spring."

"Oh, can we? I could have my own pumpkin patch. Like I saw in all those pictures on the internet."

Dallas was about to reply when he heard her softly squeal, "Oh no."

Rigid now, Sio stared skyward. Following her gaze, Dallas had to blink several times. But damn he saw what he saw.

Not that he hadn't ever seen a dragon before. He and his super soldier team had encountered them on their giant slaying missions. So far, there'd never been a reason to tangle with one.

Dallas telescoped his gaze automatically switching to his eagle eyesight. The small dragon's scales mirrored the color of the sky as he winged swiftly, diving toward the launched pumpkin.

"Hey! Daddy, what happened to our pumpkin?" the young girl demanded.

"He ate it," Sio whispered.

"He did eat it," Dallas echoed, marveling at the dragon's agile maneuvers, and the quick final snap of his jaws.

"Don't worry, honey lamb," the sheep shifter father assured. "Here's another one. Let's get this baby in the air."

"No! Gnothos, stop," Sio loudly whispered. "Stop."

Dallas watched as the dragon circled the large park, clearly intent on devouring the next pumpkin. "Gnothos?"

"My pet dragon. He must have followed me here... somehow. He wasn't supposed to. My sister promised to watch him," his Sio explained in a rush of words.

Gnothis rode the afternoon thermal, his long neck snaking as he scanned both sky and ground. "He's not dangerous to anyone, is he?"

"Not unless I'm threatened. No. But, he adores aerial sports... Gnothos is what you call a vegetarian. I have to make him quit before..." Sio squeezed his hand hard. "Oh, no!"

"What the --" the older boy managed to control his tongue. "Mine's gone too. I swear the castle was in my sights, and about to go down."

"It's probably stuck in a tree, moron. You couldn't hit the side of a barn. Remember the baseball game you lost us?" another boy taunted.

"Mickey, I warned you about your manners. One more word and we're going home."

As Sio turned to face him, Dallas removed his gaze from the cavorting dragon. "How do I help, beautiful?"

"I'm not certain how to direct Gnothos to my house, once I make contact..."

"Will he wait in the bed of my truck? He can munch on the pumpkins beneath the tarp."

With a smile that lit him up, Sio spun around. Hell, Dallas figured he'd been blasted by a blowtorch, the way her eyes became bright as the sun.

Sio stilled inside his arm, and Dallas sensed her vibrational change as she telepathically spoke with her pet. Dallas sure as all get out, hoped the dragon wouldn't prove to be an obstacle. No matter hell or high water, he intended to make Sio his own.

"What is that, up in the sky?" an older girl shouted.

Wondering what his next move should be, Dallas watched her point to the thermal, where Gnothos had been.

"I don't see anything," her sister mocked. "You need eyeglasses like the teacher said."

"It's not there anymore. And I did SEE something. And I am not wearing glasses. They'll only get lost or stepped on when I shift. Dummy."

Glad Sio whirled to face him again, Dallas witnessed the triumph in her gaze. "Gnothos is waiting for us," she whispered. "I better get him out of Talbot's Peak."

"Something wrong?" Dallas questioned as Sio hesitated, then glanced over her shoulder.

"I don't want to, to leave all these seeds." Her palms lightly landed on is chest, thrilling him down to the pointed tips of his boots. "They need to be planted."

"We can do some seed saving later," Dallas drawled. "How about collecting them beneath the moonlight, once we put your pet to bed."

She nodded, and her expression became a mixture of seriousness and happiness. "See, Dallas, you're already better than the men on my world. None of them would deign to help me... seed save, is it?"

"That's right. We're seed savers."

Dallas roped her shoulders with his arm, pulling Sio close as they walked toward his truck. He wouldn't tell her he celebrated inside like a dang drunk fool because she'd been forced to leave her homeworld, after denying marriage one too many times -- and celebrating because she preferred him.

Not yet, anyway.
~~~~~~

Have a magickal Halloween!

Savanna

Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance ~

'Bring Your Own Wolf' for Wicked Haunt-o-ween

Happy Hauntings, everyone. Join me on Monday, October 15 -- and all the authors participating in the Wicked Haunt-o-ween at KM Books. 

Here's the beginning of my featured flash scene... 
 

‘Bring Your Own Wolf’ Costume Party
By Savanna Kougar

With her head pounding from a nerve-wracking day at her rotten stupid job as a bank teller... with her stomach growling and pressed against her spine because she’d skipped lunch to license her junker of a car, then pick up her Little Red Riding Hood costume for tonight’s Halloween party... Sapphyra jogged toward the entrance of the small shop that sold stuffed animals, many of them realistic looking.

That is, before Doris closed up -- only minutes away.

“Oh, hell, no.” The words burst out of Sapphyra as she glimpsed Helen’s silver Porsche parked nearby.
~~~~~

There's lots of contests happening and if you wanna win one of my books...  
 
***Contest for 18yrs and older only: Savanna is offering one PDF copy of one of books from her backlist. The winner's choice. Read on to find out how you may add this treat to your goody bag. CONTEST ENDS ON OCT. 22ND AT MIDNIGHT.
~~~~~~

~ Have a magickal and wicked Halloween ~

Savanna

Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance ~ 

My Blue Water Dragon

Wednesday greetings, everyone. When I learned it was the Chinese Year of the Dragon, and not just any dragon, but what some are calling the Blue Water Dragon, I entered a slight state of shock. Why, you might ask. There is a secondary character, Dragon Leader, Xanuvvi, who is a blue water dragon in my 2012 erotic romance fantasy, WHEN A GOOD ANGEL FALLS, published on August 13, 2008.
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Excerpt from ~ WHEN A GOOD ANGEL FALLS ~

Starring the 'secondary' character:

Xanuvvi, Blue Water Dragon Leader

Neat trick, cherub. This isn’t being seen on world wide UN TV. But her cherub didn’t answer. Enclosing them, he flashed to jet speed. The mountains sped toward them like a fast-forward movie scene. Sedona shut her eyes, held onto her cherub even though she didn’t need to.

She opened her eyes as she felt them slow, and hover. Below them, a teal lake shimmered, cradled in a mountain valley. The lake was probably manmade. Sedona could see what looked like a simple dam.

Lake Alamo. Used as a contact area for the rebels and their alien allies. Volcano gently spiraled downward, as if they rode a thermal.

Yeah, Richard C talked about it one night with George. Knows some of the Contactees. Said most of the state park employees went rogue, took it over to keep the UN and the elite out.

They still have control. We’ve been granted a short meeting with Dragon Leader, Xanuvvi.

The blue water dragon.

He’s taking a lake dip. Has a fondness for the water on Earth.

Unpolluted I hope.

By agreement the rebels and the alien allies have a cleansing operation. One layer at a time.

Works for me. Awe-struck, Sedona watched as they descended. The Sonoran desert is so gorgeous. Used to love driving through. Wow! Beneath her a huge serpentine shine of blue scales coiled above the shimmer water.

“Fantastic,” she murmured. “I feel like I’m suddenly in a storybook fantasy.”

Volcano glided to a rise of ground, clear of desert scrub brush and the dry stems of abundant wildflowers. Wintering ducks had taken refuge in a stand of cattails. Herons took elegant flight. Even the fine ash couldn’t dispel the idyllic quality of the scene before her.

Entranced Sedona dismounted, and noticed she didn’t feel cold, even though the temps were probably mid fifties. “Like thermal underwear?” she asked when the cherub dismounted beside her.

“Magically designed for body maintenance. Want me to hold your hand?” he smooth-talked her, took her helmet.

“Keep me from being scared of the big ole’ dragon?” she sassed, but gave him her hand.

Dreaming of seeing a dragon was different than meeting one up close and personal. Even if he rose magnificently, benignly from the lake near them – blue glimmers of twisting sorcery, he had membranous sapphire wings. His head reminded her of Chinese dragon depictions. He towered above them as he writhed majestically, then waded onto the shore. His eyes surprised her, looking human and reptilian. Their mesmerizing glow greeted her.

“Zerr Dann of the Cherubim,” he bellowed, his voice reverberating around them.

“Dragon leader, Xanuvvi, your vitality is rewarding. May I present Sedona Khali, my angel incarnate charge.”

“Would you like to pet me?” Xanuvvi eagerly boomed. He smiled, carefully lowered his head, all the while blinking slowly.

“I would love to pet you,” Sedona crooned softly. Her stomach quivering, she stepped forward. Her fascination took over, and the pure thrill coursed through her. Besides he was cute in a bold enormous dragon way.

She caressed down the front of his face. He closed his eyes, seemed to purr, and looked blissful. She kept caressing his face. He felt miraculous, like resplendent slick silk. Feeling bolder, she caressed more of his face, then his cheeks, using both her hands. His ears gently flipped back in enjoyment. And she was in utopia.

“He’s an angelaholic,” Volcano whispered. “Just eats up the attention of women angels.”

Sedona knew he good-natured teased the dragon. “You don’t eat princesses, do you?” she cooed, stroked one huge ear.

“No!” Volcano laughed. “He doesn’t eat them. He just tells them he will if they don’t pet him.”

Xanuvvi opened one brilliant rapturous eye. “Take mythological advantage where you can,” he low rumbled. He snorted an ephemeral mist, carefully stepped back. “Much superior to a princess,” he praised, straightened to his height. “You sing like exquisite fire, angel Sedona Khali.”

“Violets,” Sedona murmured happily, breathing in his mist. “Thank you.”

“Your color, angel Sedona,” Xanuvvi flourished. He bowed his head briefly.

“Before he takes you for a ride.” Volcano pulled her back beside him. “Carries you off to his secret cave ship.”

“Zerr Dann, I am willing to make an appearance. If you and angel Sedona will greet me, show those around us that I and my people mean no harm. However, we have recently discovered the Mayan LA festivities have been infiltrated with those who would use subterfuge, use sound to cause our violence, as one tactic against us.”

“Let us stay in contact. I will commune with the Cherubim watching over LA.”

“Of course. I would prefer to make a grand spectacle entrance. Prove our existence to those who are ready.”

“You should be on with George, the NightHawk zone. Radio,” Sedona offered when he cocked his head.

“Yes.” The Dragon Leader savored, legs across his chest, his great claws shining, deadly curved. “That would be a splendid radio first. Indeed.”

“Indeed,” Volcano joyous teased, and agreed. “Your voice is perfect for radio.”

“You must visit our caldera base soon, Zerr Dann, angel Sedona.”

More swiftly than she could blink, the amazing blue dragon phased into flight over the lake and became a dot against the sky, as if he had only lived in her imagination.

“Zerr Dann?” she asked, still staring at the sky.

“Cherubim name. I didn’t want it found in your mind.”

“Yes, I remember. Why Volcano?” Sedona faced him.

“Translates to volcano. Thought it fit the guy-on-a-cycle image.” He grinned rakishly, put her helmet back on.

“Let me guess. We have to get out of here. Caldera base?”

“Yellowstone. The caldera. His dragon people are singing, soothing it.”

“Do you mean we, humans, animals, plants have a shot at not being wiped off the continent?”
~~~~~~

Also, if you would like to read Volcano's Angelic Forecast for the Year of the Dragon, here's the link ~ titlemagic.blogspot.com/2012/01/year-of-dragon-angelic-forecast-from.html ~

~~~~~~

As well, I recently wrote an 'R-Rated ~ but, no sex' flash scene for our group blog, SHAPESHIFTER SEDUCTIONS. We have a whole cast of characters, beginning with the werewolf pack, who took over the small town of Talbot's Peak, Montana.

If you would like to meet Xanuvvi, Blue Water Dragon Leader, 'prior' to his appearance in When a Good Angel Falls, keep on reading.
~~~

Xanuvvi, Blue Water Dragon

"Why must you leave our realm?"

Queen Crysuthess spoke in her feminine pouty voice. However, Xanuvvi heard her true concern over his leaving, and her wish they remain lovers.

"You know of my alliance with Earth's angelic guardians, my sweetling." Xanuvvi used the power of his voice to stroke her. "The one called Zerr Dann has contacted recently. His mission is crucial to saving us from the dark siders as well as bringing about the salvation of humanity and Earth."

"It is true those of evil intent have already damaged the dimensional wall between our worlds with their use of death-wave weaponry. The fools," she contemptuously added with a dismissive lift of her shoulder. "And yet, how will you fare? There a few dragonkind remaining."

Xanuvvi caressed a strand of her hair, then twined it around his finger-claw, well knowing his touch would soothe the Queen. "Thessi," he addressed her with his pet name for her, "the gathering has begun. There are already ten Rainbow Dragonicas residing at the great caldera -- singing to alleviate Mother Gai's pain, and balance her forthcoming land changes. They are welcoming my presence."

Her sigh could have caused a path through the sea, it burst out with such keening force. "I know it is a matter of positive fate, Nuvvi. Yet... I depend upon your constant strength and wisdom."

Even though, they were alone, she left unsaid what they'd both come to crave, the impassioned strength of their lust-rolling together. He knew why. Their feelings for each other could never be fulfilled.

She would mature and desire only one of her kind for a mate. While he, having glimpsed his far future, being the magickal beast he was, knew another was destined to be his loving mate.

"If you wish for the force we call Good to ascend, and bring the harmonics of benevolence to our realm, then I must leave, my Thessi. I must use my powers to assist humankind, to assist Zerr Dann in his divine mission."

She didn't speak, and he felt her deep contemplations. Her small hand stroked the clawed hand he'd placed on her lovely little shoulder. "One more night... my Nuvvi. Is that too great a wish?"

His answer was to stroke the back of his claw along the sensitive skin of her neck, as she carnal-adored.

***

Spiraling furiously while also whirling the leviathan-sized length of his body, Xanuvvi pierced the dimensional fabric. Since he could not afford to enter the realm of Earth at the thinnest point, the Great Pyramid as it was known in Egypt -- oh, sweet memories of Queen Cleopatra and the grace of her hands upon his scales -- because of what he called the robot-zombie guards of the Illuminatti.

Instead, Xanuvvi penetrated as close to his dragon allies as possible. Forced to hold his breath because of the slime-heavy, sulfurous water of the Yellowstone caldera, he pumped his tail like a rising Loch Ness monster.

Once he finally speared through the boiling nastiness that passed for a form of water, he continued his momentum. Xanuvvi prepared to summon his magick. It had taken the remainder of his physical strength to remain airborne in the dusk, overcast sky.

Even so, he refused to gasp in draughts of the wintry air for two reasons. One, a dragon leader had his pride. Two, despite the utterly ridiculous connection between sulfur and dragons on Earth, he despised the taste of the odiferous mineral, and the thick muck still clung to his muzzle.

Unfurling his wings, Xanuvvi spread them wide to dry the webbing rapidly. A snort of fire from his nostrils would do the job, but that would foil his plan to stay as inconspicuous as possible.

To keep himself aloft, he cast forth a matrix bubble to float within. Getting his bearings, even if he was spotted, was crucial. He wanted to wing with all due haste to the Rainbow's stronghold once he discovered the location.

What, hey! Xanuvvi closed his eyes inhaling wave after delicious wave of the most seductive female scents. Trapped in the heavy moist air, the potent, in-heat perfume responsible for stiffening his breeding staff was being carried on the rising night wind.

But not merely female, no, these mating fragrances belonged to shapeshifter women, most of them wolven. If his nostrils were to be trusted, a whole thriving colony of shapeshifters lived nearby. If his magickal senses were to be believed, there were also many breeds of supernaturals living among them.

Stunned to his fiery watery core, Xanuvvi snapped his eyes open, and stared in that direction. The Rainbows did not expect his immediate presence, and he could mentally commune with their priest -- offer an explanation.

The lure impossible to resist, he aimed his conjured bubble and soon rode a wind-stream toward the colony. Both good and evil, the hero and villain, the drama of the colony played out in the energies he witnessed before his mind's eye.

To his great joy, Xanuvvi also heard the rippling music of a pristine lake, rare on Earth. He could cleanse himself, make a decent appearance, introduce himself to one of his stature. With that end in mind, he sent forth a seeking fire, a frequency that would find the leader, one of the highest nature.

***

Seized with the yen to view the night sky, to howl and speak his secrets to the moon, Dante bounded up the spiral staircase that led from the top floor of his new supperclub, the Midnight Stardust, to the small hidden gazebo atop his subterranean club. He'd recently created the romantic setting for him and his beloved Kitty.

She had adored it, and they'd spent precious time together smooching in each other arms, and gazing at the starry midnight sky through the lacing of branches above them. Now, he needed alone moments -- time to let his fur down, or out.

The supperclub had steadily gained in patrons, and the dance lessons were especially popular. Satisfied that all was going smoothly with his customers and crew, Dante stepped outside, and drew in a lungfuls of the cold crisp air.

The next instant, he spun around, his neck hair bristling, sprouting. Dante growled, the warning from the pit of his belly.

The huge dragon standing about thirty feet away smiled benignly, and didn't move. "Shall we introduce ourselves? I am Dragon Leader, Xanuvvi, of the Blue Water species."

His voice boomed yet somehow the timbre matched the sound of the wind.

With his instincts giving quarter, and sensing no immediate danger, Dante eased his stance. "Dante, werewolf. Is there something I can do for you?"

"Perhaps, shapeshifting lessons are in order. Gaining a human form would be of benefit to my mission on Earth. Perhaps also, you can explain why there is such an abundance of delightful feminine fragrances here."

Dante grinned, his confidence returning. "Tell you what, Dragon Leader, if you can reduce your size I'll give you the grand tour."

"Splendid. That I can achieve. Xanuvvi will do as a form of address. May I call you Dante?"

"Yeah, sure thing." Dante watched as Xanuvvi slowly morphed to a far less imposing height. "Hey, how about this Year of the Dragon," he bantered. "Want to fill me in on all the details?"
~~~~~~

~ Have a Magickal and Miraculous New Year of the Dragon ~

Savanna

Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance ~

Rabbit Shapeshifters ~ Are they real...

Hi, everyone. Yes, I'm Romancing the Year of the Rabbit, and just in time for Easter. Here’s a flash scene I wrote for my post at SHAPESHIFTER SEDUCTIONS. I thought I’d share here because I am blatantly promo-ing the YEAR OF THE RABBIT BLOG HOP. Details are below.
~~~

Warning: Bad Language ahead. But the rabbit is saved.
~~~~~~

Magickal, Fantastical Bunny

Once upon a time on Earth, we Shapeshifters ruled. That thousand year reign has been nearly lost to history, and now belongs to the timeless mists surrounding this third planet from the sun.

The only remnants are myths and legends, and a few ancient ruins. Yes, there are written documents. However, they are hidden away, and mostly used for sinister and despicable purposes.

During my epoch, Earth, or Galaxias, as we knew her, orbited the Grand Light as the fourth planet, and later as the fifth. At that time, Venus was not with us. Mercury and his two sisters were. A colossal comet streaked into the solar system, and instead of allowing the destructive force to claim Galaxias, we hired a space-faring, super race to capture the barren comet.

In retrospect, adding the comet to the gravitational dynamics of the solar system backfired on us, because it allowed for a climate change conducive to the rise of the dinosaurs. Even though, these massive creatures were no danger to us, those who had brought their genetics to Earth proved to be the Betrayers.

And, they still are.

The Betrayers, as a race, have remained on Earth. Many wars and battles have been fought at their instigation, and some in an effort to rid the world of their presence.

As of this time, April 2011, the Betrayers, these Grays are on the rise. They threaten all Life on my beloved Galaxias.

I am a Slayer.

I am invisible to them because of their arrogance. They have no natural love of animals. They sense only fur and meat. My blood is meant only for their constant genetic experiments.

Yes, I will own the advantage, despite their advanced mind capabilities, and their manipulative technologies. The real challenge will be the primitive rigors of life in what is called the early 21st century.

My real test is mental survival. Will I successfully negotiate the labyrinth of the human mind, as well as the fractionalized minds of surviving shapeshifters? For, by creating endless mayhem and agony, the Grays have split their psyches against their divine natures.

Raising my arms in reverence, I part the etheric curtain, and gaze at the moon on the eighteenth day of April. For long moments, her celestial breath becomes my breath. Once she invites me into her embrace, I merge and she becomes my through-the-mists barge.

On the white-jewel beams of the Great Feminine, I arrive in Talbot’s Peak, the new haven for shapeshifters.

Or, for those of you with a bent toward science, I utilize the moon’s 2012-activated frequencies. In instants, I exchange my particles from my where I was in time, to where I land now, the midnight forest close to what is called the Interspecies Pleasure Club.

Land. On my four paws. I’m in trouble. Somehow, I have been morphed against my will into my animal form. With my instincts kicking in, I sniff the breezes while peering through the deep darkness for the nearest safe thicket.

The odor of hunting werewolves shivers through me. Paralyzed for an instant, I then leap in the direction of a small bush still shrouded by autumn leaves. Too late!

Four sets of paws race toward me, vibrationally thundering the ground. I hear their quickening pants in anticipation of the chase, then the kill. The rending of me from limb to blood-spurting limb.

Launching forward, I sprint, my hindquarters driving me ever faster over the moist fecund ground. With the hungry werewolves hot on my trail, and way too close to my tail, I zigzag between the large tree trunks. The vegetation is all too sparse here.

Still, I am a survivor. I have been prey many times. With fear coursing my blood, I sense for any means of escape. Seeing chrome riding machines, and the light from the above-ground bar, I ran flat out until I am weaving madly between the wheels.

Crashing thuds follow me like dominos. The motorcycles, as they are called, must be flying in all directions. I race for the bar’s entrance, and as the door opens, spilling a pathway of light, I charge between one of the patron’s legs. He shouts a string of curses, then I hear, “What the fuck! Is that a goddamn rabbit?”

Inside, I dash wherever there is open space. Roaring growls split the air. Some of the women shriek. Drinks splash and spill. Glass shatters on impact. Chairs scrape the floor, one right after another. The jagged sound hurts my ears.

“It is a fucking rabbit.”

“Someone grab dinner.”

With bedlam following in my wake, I avoid the surprised stomp of boots, the tipping tables and the falling chairs. I hear the door being bolted, then the slam of werewolves against the heavy, obviously steel-reinforced wood planks.

As the saying goes here, I’ve jumped out of the frying pan and into the fire. And, everyone wants me for dinner.

With a giant hop, I dart behind the bar, and run the length. Just as I dive between several liquor bottles, giant hairy morphing hands come real close to grabbing my ears and tail.

With my heart beating fast and hard against my ribs, and the blood pounding in my flattened ears, I scrunch backward, behind the tall bottles. Making myself as small as possible, I press against the walls of the storage compartment beneath the bar.

“If anyone shifts you’re banned for a week.” The dominant voice reigns over the mad-hatter frenzy. “Barry, you and your crew, throw out whoever needs to be tossed on their furry asses.”

“Sure thing. Need to tell ya, Dante, that critter don’t look like no ordinary rabbit.”

“It’s red.” A female voice barks squeakily. “And tall. Extra long legs.”

“Anyone here stop to think it might be a shifter, and a customer?”

It’s this Dante’s commanding voice. I stop my frantic quivering long enough to train one ear forward.

“Couldn’t be a customer, Dante. It busted in here, running pell mell like it was rabid or something. You shoulda seen the leap it made when it dashed behind the bar. Want me to show you were it’s hiding?”

“Yeah, Kelly. Get your shift under control first.”

“Well, you’d be running scared too, if a pack of werewolves were snapping at your tail...and you were a rabbit.”

The woman’s spirited voice sends a jolt of much-needed warmth through me. But, what now? I’m unable to shift yet. Fear has me in its icy-taloned grip. I can't even move.

There’s a pause, and I feel everyone’s attention focused on this Dante. He must be the alpha in charge. Although, that is not my intel.

“Listen up,” he growls authoritatively. “Is there anyone here who has a fondness for rabbits? And, I don’t mean for good eating. Got it?”

In the heavy silence, I tremble, but avoid rattling the bottles.

“Yeah, Dante. I had a rabbit girlfriend. Once.” I feel the man’s glare before he speaks again. “No,” he growls sharply, “I didn’t eat her at the first full moon.”

“Ridge Runner, over here. Bend my ear privately. Kelly, get drinks for everyone on the house. Back off,” Dante orders, “give us some breathin’ room.”

An eery quiet takes over the place, and I listen to Dante’s and this Ridge Runner’s footsteps come closer. They sit at the bar, and fast enough, their noses sniff me out. The frequency of it travels through my bones.

Even though, I manage to angle my ears toward them, I hear only the low sound of their voices, but no words. If I could only shift...

“Problem here?” the young woman’s voice floats on the airwaves beautifully. “Oh, oh, there is a bunny here.” Her true joy stuns me at the same time it fills me with some relief. “Where are you bunny? Here, bunny? All I want to do is hold you, and pet you...I promise.”

“Damara, you’re underage. What are you doing here?” Dante’s voice is stern, yet also kind.

“I told you. I want to dance. Like Gypsy does. I’m learning. Besides, you need me right now.”

“I better not find out who let you in here,” Dante growls like a protective father.

“No one,” Damara proudly lilts, as she continues in my direction, moving behind the bar. “Bunny...beautiful rabbit...I’ll carry you out of here.”

I know suddenly why Damara is drawn so strongly to rabbits. The scent of her blood hums through me. She is a witch keeper of hares, and draws strength from their companionship. Although, I am uncertain if she is aware of her heritage.

As her light footsteps approach, I stretch just enough to view her face. She bends over to look for me, and our gazes meet. When she smiles, her surreal radiance is like the moon.

“Oh, magical, fantastical,” she murmurs. With a slow hand, she sets the bottles to the side, then reaches forward, her palms open, her hands soft. “My magical, fantastical bunny,” she croons. “Come here, please. Please...”

My muscles cooperate, and I gradually lengthen myself. With a sniff of her fingertips, I give a hop right into her arms. She rises hugging me to her bosom, and I feel her smile of sheer delight. “Oh, you are a big bundle of bunny goodness. And, what a lovely red chestnut color you are. Just like my pony.”

“Stay away,” she warns, once she’s carried me a distance. “Except for Ridge Runner. He can come with us.”

“He better,” Dante rasps with quiet alpha power. “He’s your guardian from now on. For both you, and the rabbit shifter. Damara, do you hear me?”

“I hear you,” Damara trills over her shoulder. “I wonder what you look like? I bet you’re as beautiful human as you are a rabbit.”

“Yeah, I bet she is too.” Ridge Runner strides beside us.

Is that carnal hunger I hear in his voice? It’s been so long since -- ignoring my sudden yearning, I cuddle into Damara’s hold, and thank the Most Sacred for my rescue.
~~~~~~

Year of the Rabbit Blog Hop

Just in case you want a different kind of egg treasure hunt... as in hot fun flash stories and hawt pics... also fab prizes, with the grand prize being a Nook... well, a bunch of us authors are combining our talents this Easter weekend, April 23-24, for a blog hop. Take a preview peek here ~ justromance.me ~

At SHAPESHIFTER SEDUCTIONS we’ll be hopping and bopping, also, and there just might be a few bunny shapeshifters celebrating Spring with fertility rites at Talbot’s Peak during the blog hop. Or, maybe not. Ya never know who, or what kind of shapeshifter/paranormal being/human, will show up.
~~~~~~

HAVE A HAPPY AND BLESSED EASTER

Savanna

Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance ~

Luck of the Irish Blog Hop ~ Shapeshifter Romance

Hi Romance Novel Lovers, the Luck of the Irish blog hop is March 17-19. There is a fabulous lineup of authors, plus a Kindle, and lots of prizes, at the end of the rainbow. At SHAPESHIFTER SEDUCTIONS we are featuring the Greenie Meanie edition of the G&B Gazette.


From my current blog at SHAPESHIFTER SEDUCTIONS here’s a flash scene starring Z’Pasha. This is her character bio.

Z’Pasha, granddaughter of the Egyptian goddess, Bastet, lives for the day when she can sink her poisonous claws and fangs into the Tiger Yakuza. Two of their Ninja assassins shredded her human friend’s body so brutally, the murder wasn’t reported in the news. Having tracked the elusive assassins across the globe, Pasha believes she is about to corner and castrate the fiendish tigers in the backwoods of Montana. She just needs a bit of super dog assistance. And she knows how to get it. After all, seduction is second nature, and her feline kind knows every shapeshifter male’s weakness.

~~~~~~

Z’Pasha, Cat Goddess Shapeshifter

Z’Pasha raised her arms toward the heavens, an invitation to the magickal forces crackling like erratic electricity around her. In reverence for her night forest surroundings, she slowly spun around, listening to the varied voices of the animals.

She listened to the murmurings and songs of the trees, of every plant within the radius of her energy body. Z’Pasha rejoiced, and the sounds transformed into a kaleidoscope of waving color inside her.

Despite her reason for arriving at the Interspecies Pleasure Club, to avenge the death of her friend, Z’Pasha had developed a fondness for this region on the mother planet, Gaia.

Everything whispered of a time in the ancient past, when the land had been loved and tended to with a devotion that had inspired harmony. Centering herself, Z’Pasha gazed at the stars, jeweled beings who balanced the galactic flow of energies.

She widened her arms in an embrace of the night sky, sending her vibes of love to all of the good-force celestial beings. Their answering rays filled her with knowledge, and expanded her spiritual awareness.

Right now, that was invaluable. Since meeting White Fang, she’d been thrown off balance by the unbound and sensual explosiveness of their passion.

With her ability to focus challenged at times, Z’Pasha relied on her centuries of discipline in the magickal arts. Arms outstretched, she whirled, creating a sphere that was in the world, but not of the world.

Lonely for her longtime companion, Z’Pasha had decided to reunite with her. Currently, Ghelyssia lived in a neighboring realm, safe from the Tiger Yakuza.

Z’Pasha had not wanted her harmed because of the revenge she planned to claw and fang exact. Soon.

Even now, she had the foul tiger shifters targeted, and in her cat-stalking sights. However, her approach remained silent, and patient.

A trap sprung too quickly was a trap not set.

With the large sphere formed, Z’Pasha halted, and closed her eyes. She communed with the One, asking if All was according to divine order. After receiving her answer, a feeling of calm assurance, Z’Pasha turned until she faced the gateway’s shimmer outline.

Practiced in the ancient sorcery rites of Egypt, she intoned a melodic series of sounds. In response, the sealed gateway between the two realms gradually opened.

When the dimensional fabric temporarily dissolved, there was a flash of white, and the sound of dainty hooves. As Ghelyssia galloped through the gateway, stars streamed from her pearlescent horn.

Once the unicorn abruptly stopped in her tracks, Ghelyssia’s pale platinum coat took on the darkness of night and the greens of the forest. She shook her head, and her long mane silkily rippled.

Swishing her tail with elegant attitude, Ghelyssia whirled and walked to Z’Pasha. Finally, you have seen the light, foolish feline woman. You cannot be without me.

“Ghelyssia, my adored one, no, I cannot.”
~~~~~~

HAPPY SHAPESHIFTING ST. PAT’S DAY...

Savanna

Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance ~
~~~~~~

Welcome to Valentine's Poetry Week at Lindsay's Romantics!

Welcome to Valentine's Poetry Week at Lindsay's Romantics! We're celebrating Valentine's Day, love and romance all this week through the medium of poetry. Poetry is the oldest, most expressive, most intense literary form. It captures and reveals our deepest feelings and enables us to share those emotions with others. So here at the start of our Valentine Poetry Week are some love poems, written by us.

The Stalactite

If we turn to stone above our organic time
let me be a stalactite hanging over you
feeding you drop by drop like a new born
growing a crystal jewel
reaching up closing the distance
an aching gap that mortality rent between our lips
building a bridge until they touch again that kiss
to seal anew the bond that made the spiral column of pure white bliss
memorial to love ten thousand years before.

Alan Calder, Poet and author at Willowmoon Press:
http://www.willowmoonpublishing.com/authors.html



Lovers Undress
You're a shaft of light
In my crimson evening.

Let's make each other beautiful;
You in a silver ball gown,
Shoulders shine above it
Above superb resilient breasts.


Slow, sensual dance, rustling fabrics,
Hands, breath to lips and tongues
Held through this breeze.


I've striven in my work-outs
For this moment;
I'm yours to relish,
you're mine to savour.


So now undo me, see legs first
- Yours I'll match
Now find my waist and torso
- Feel at first
And then unbutton,
Peel and see.


In shorts I stand before you now,
Athletic
You're throbbing for the next -
You take my waistband, draw
Now I'm just in trunks
- Erotic in your smouldering light.


I'll do the same for you, I'm delicate
with zips and buttons, buckles
Release your gown,
A glittering parachute
and you step out


- In what I dreamed you'd wear:
A purple strapless one-piece
Clinging to your toned lovely form


A one-piece proclaims
A woman's fullest power - Concealing, revealing,
Balance just right - to draw on,
and you can wear one
Before all others.


Now you're my bathing beauty,
I am yours.


The water calls us, shimmering warm;
Let's slice the waves,
Please do the backstroke, let me see
Your breasts, your thighs
Thrusting through the surface
And now an underwater kiss


Now to the shore.
You lie on me, I rub your back
Our costumes dry, peel off
and now deep cleaving
Of thigh and groin.


You are so deep , so strong in love
Made thunderstorms;
You frightened all the others off
Yet drew me out;
Let me embrace my feminine
In our unrobing

Submission? domination?
Now those terms
Lose all pretence of meaning,
In the flooding flames of total love.


You're a shaft of light
In my crimson evening.


David Russell


 ~~~~~~ Zurroc's Love Poem to Kytaira
I know my tigress.
Wild fierce energy burning, she is large of heart.
Kind to those in need, she is a predator for justice.

Currents of white-hot fire arc between us when her Tigress spirit mates with my Tiger soul.

Ancient passions ignite when we tangle, woman and man becoming one.

Savage is another name for the beauty of my Tigress.

She frees me, my woman.

For, what is untamed in me growls to caress what is untamed in her.

From ~ Tigress Shapeshifter... meet the new boss, worse than the old boss... by Savanna Kougar 

Sunny days

Sunny days I spent with you
Memories to last my whole life through
From bronze to silver then to gold
This is how our lives unfold
Simple thoughts, simple pleasures
Worth more than any treasures

Margaret Maguire, Poet and Writer.


My Forever Valentine.

As young lovers, finding each other their urgent lips and bodies entwine.
Forty years on the rush is for the hot wheat bag that they find divine.
My love for you takes my youthful breathe away.
My ancient bones tell me, if I chase there will be a delay.

New-born love; so fragile, so precious, so inane,
Ripened love, mellowed and tempered by life,
sees the sprint of youth as insane.

Fresh hearts are easily given away,
bruised beings retreat, in the hope of loving another someday.

Spring like spirit scatters its seed far and wide,
Autumn’s sprite knows a more fruitful place for its kernel to hide.

And as the last of the summer’s sun begins to fade
and our thoughts turn to a hardier time,
We will still be together; sharing our memories,
our hot water bottle, our life
and you will always be mine.

Candida Heard, writer and poet


Real Time

Turn off the satellites,
Throw away the phones,
I don't want to speak.
I need ROSES, bouquets,
Heart to heart.
Facebook OFF-
love ME!

Christine Hirst, writer and photographer. (Christine took the sunset photograph at the top of this post.)

Flying with Rudolph, the Reindeer

Merry Christmas, and a very merry holiday to everyone!

Whenever I pen Volcano’s Weekly Angelic Forecast, I also include a continuing story. What follows is a fanciful scene from the ongoing spiritual adventures of my hero, Volcano, and his author, me.

From a year ago...

December 21, 2009

Angelic Forecast ~ #68

Rudolph, here I come...

“I see his nose!”

In the distance a soft red glow forms a tiny halo. I watch as the red glow rises upwards and sails toward us, becoming ever larger and brighter.

Finally, I see the outline of a reindeer. He runs on the air as if he races over the tundra, a magnificent stag with antlers that branch handsomely.

All a-tingle, I feel as though I could float above the cloud.

“Go ahead,” the Heavenly One encourages.

I know what he means. Yet, it seems impossible, even in this land of the possible as I’ve never known it. Still, a leap of faith seems to be called for. After all, it is the time of the Winter Solstice.

“Three years from Winter Solstice 2012,” the Cherub solemnly intones, having read my mind, again.

“2012,” I repeat. “You and Sedona have already lived it.”

“We have. We are living it now.”

“Yes.” I lean forward, wanting to leap. Rudolph circles toward us, so majestic my breath catches.

"Fly,” the Heavenly One says. “Fly the way you’ve always wanted to.”

My eyelids shut briefly. As I open them, I shove off, willing myself to soar toward Rudolph.

At first, it feels as if I fall... a fall from grace, I think. Yet, a whirl of stars surround me and I’m floating. I stretch as if I really am flying, and the stars spiral faster.

Rudolph nears me, such a splendid reindeer creature, it’s difficult to know he’s real. With a wink of one big beautiful brown eye, he offers me his back.

Hop on. We’ll celebrate the new arrival of light.

Joy lives as an incredible force inside me. I alight on his warm, thickly furred back.

You don’t mean merely the lengthening of daylight, do you?

The love and caring of this time, this time of celebrating All that is Good, now lives in the world all year round as a New Light.
~~~~~~

Awaken to Your Heart this Holiday Season ~

Savanna

Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance ~
~~~~~~

Flash of a Fairytale and Food

Once upon a time, several galaxies away, there lived a fairy woman of free spirit who did not wish to marry. Samaira lived on a magical-realm planet and possessed many such abilities.
One day the Knight Regent of their land arrived at her castle home searching for his bride. He’d been on tour visiting all the fair maidens and was welcomed with open arms by her beloved parents, who believed Bethaira, her sister, would be his choice for marriage.
Instead, the Knight Regent requested and was granted courtship of Samaira, to her very terrible dismay.

From my WIP ~ Crescent Moon

I ~~~
Samaira lifted another morsel to her lips. Before biting into it, she inquired, “What magic potion did you use in your recipe?”

“High praise, my Samaira. Yet there is only the aphrodisiac of the vrishee mushroom. I promise.” He raised his palm, a man’s amused defense against her woman’s glare. “You invoked against the ‘touch’ of passion.” His grin dashing and unrepentant, he continued, “I heard not one word against the ‘taste’ of passion.”

“Yes! Knight Regent, I should have chosen my words more precisely. Now that I am in possession of the truth, I shall not ask for more.”
II ~~~
Samaira set the empty dish on the table with a dignified clatter.

“Then perhaps your palate will be tempted by the asparagus spears your mother prepared for us.”

Samaira fiery-tossed her head, her temper sparked. “Mothers knows I will not refuse, unless ill. Most perfectly played, Knight Regent. Are you so excellent at lawn games? To speak of sporting gaiety.”

Zobaque removed the lid from the serving dish, placing asparagus on a finger plate. “Excellent enough not to embarrass your well touted skills, my blazing beauty.” Lifting the plate, he chose one of the spears. “One from my hand, Samaira?”
III ~~~
Temptation or a seductive taunt? Samaira knew not which, his expression was neutral, his silver eyes fathomless.

She rolled her eyes. “A filly to be trained to your hand? Then to your spear...Knight Regent?”

“I am that wooing-desperate, yes.” Zobaque smiled, a slow amused curving of his mouth. Yet truth shone in the dark depths of his gaze upon her. He elegantly held the spear of asparagus before her succulent, large and firm. “One,” he tempted.

“It begins with one,” Samaira muttered. “Consider this the danger your rutting loins dare.” Learning forward, she bit sharply into the long asparagus spear.
IV ~~~
She bit again. And bit again. She bit against his fingertips. Then Samaira chewed vigorously.

“Quite delicious,” she praised. “Will you try one? Mother will wish to know your level of enjoyment.” Samaira refused him her eyes.

“I believe,” he spoke in embers, virile embers, “my enjoyment will be a most untamed and splendid one.”

Samaira flushed, heat striking up her cheeks. She heard the devouring tempo of his teeth as he ate an asparagus spear. Suddenly, her breasts tingled, her gown’s bodice too restrictive. Annoyed no rainbow’s end, she straightened her spine, her shoulders tilted her chin in defiance.
V ~~~
“Delicious, indeed,” he rasped deeply. “You may tell your endearing mother my enjoyment is extreme. May I offer you another spear, only by finger dish, my Samaira?”

His tone teased over her, the stroke of a velvet glove.

Samaira knew she should have bound her rebellious tongue.

“Will you be ‘offering’ me your spear only upon the socially adept manners of a finger dish?”

‘Goddess do believe, she mentally chastised herself. I have unwittingly stabled a receptive mare next to a mounting-experienced stallion.’

Samaira resisted the fierce urge to clench her eyelids shut. She did blink, and mightily collect herself.
VI ~~~
Zobaque regarded his intended bride as he set the dish on the table, before he flung it anywhere, out of his way! His desire for Samaira owned every piece of him. “Perhaps, I have mishandled my fate,” he began.

Silken, yet with the sting of nettles, his voice flowed over her. Samaira stiffened her posture, and her resolve.

“My incomparably beautiful woman, I should have impulsively mounted you with the entire force of my passions...the first time I came upon your bare frolic in the grove pond, within our borderland.”

Her eyes flew to his, winging like a hummingbird.
VII ~~~
The truth he spoke etched his features. A fierce glisten possessed his gaze. Samaira swallowed, remembering how often she had ‘frolicked’ before his leaving, and before their flame-throwing battle of words.

“Merely once,” Zobaque spared her, witnessing the shock in her eyes. He also treasured what he had gained knowledge about her passionate nature, so revealed by her sparring words Woman against Man in the Mating Dance. Or, the test of a filly on the mettle of a stallion.

“Once at the mirror pond.” She lowered her gaze and forced her clutched hands apart. “I shall say your restraint gains my appreciation.”
VIII ~~~
“My ‘restraint’ will also be appreciated later, I believe.” Zobaque retrieved the finger dish, offering the asparagus spears.

Samaira chose one for the sake of distraction, for the appearance of normal dining. Why allow him full view of her flustered state? “Later, Knight Regent?” she challenged, then nibbled on the luscious spear.

Zobaque leisurely lifted one of the spears to his mouth, savoring it gradually. He savored her, her presented beauty, her spirit, ephemeral fire to blazing goddess. He planned on savoring his Samaira, all of her ‘flames’ in the ways a man could savor a woman, and his wife.
IX ~~~
“A courtship pleasure later,” he answered, “once we have finished dining. Tell me, do you have a preference?” Zobaque enjoyed another asparagus spear, and waited.

“My preference is to present a curtsy, speak a nightly farewell and return to my apartment without your company, Knight Regent.”

“I dared hope you would spin me about the floor in the latest dance between a man and a woman.” Zobaque presented his words straight-faced, yet knew his eyes glittered a tease.

“I am certain Bethaira could perform that teaching favor for you. And in a superior manner. Shall I inquire of her ‘later’?”
X ~~~
Zobaque leaned forward. “Yet it is only you I would have spin me in pleasure’s privacy...Samaira.”

“I wish no privacy with you. That should be as clear as the tiniest drop of rain, Knight Regent.”

“Is it not the privilege of a man to persuade a woman toward his pleasure with their shared pleasures?”

“I revoke your privilege,” she commanded with a thrust of her chin.

“Then you revoke every man and male animal in our faire world.” Zobaque forced his gaze from her, from her ‘faire’ delectable bosom, reaching for the crystalline bowl. “Strawberries and cream, my Samaira?”
~~~~~~

HAPPY ST. PATRICK’S DAY ~
May the winds blow for you and not against you...

Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance ~
~~~~~~

Flash Excerpt ~ Secret Lives of Fortunate Wolves

From my WIP ~

Secret Lives of Fortunate Wolves by Savanna Kougar

“Oh crap!”
Keira pressed her accelerator again. And again. No response. Gradually her car slowed while the pit of her stomach churned. She stared at the slashing rain, close to panic.
“Now what!?”
Guiding her car onto the highway’s narrow shoulder, she let it roll until it stopped. Turning off the ignition, she tried to calm herself by recalling past rescues.
“Another crisis! In a long series of crisis.” Keira reached for her cell phone. “Just what I need. Why didn’t I get the number to the Half Moon?”
Drawing in a long breath, she fought despair. What now, Goddess?

Blinking at her cell, she wondered just who she should try to reach. Her mother didn’t drive. Aunt Debbie didn’t have a car. And all her friends would be working, brutally busy with their lives.
“No service,” she stated flatly, not greatly surprised by her fate. “Well, that solves that. Can’t call anyone anyway.”
Bad luck had been her constant companion for the last several years, despite her best efforts to change her luck – her exhausting, endless efforts to keep her karma right.
“Help,” she appealed to God, Goddess, her Guardian Angel.
Keira sat calmly, waiting for something. Anything good.

Her mind spun chaotically, searching for any idea out of her horrid predicament.
“I definitely need help. A miracle or two,” she spoke moments later. Again to her Guardian Angel. Or any Good Being.
She waited, watching the rain pour in glistening sheets down her windshield. She waited, observing her own internal battle and watching the rain rage harder.
Calm or panic? Both tore at her, the giant claws of an invisible monster living in the ethers.
“Direct from hell. Or the X-Files,” she murmured. A glint in her rearview mirror caught her eye.
Glancing around, she saw flashing lights.

The patrol car rolled behind her.
“Friend or foe?” she wanted to ask whoever sat behind the wheel. The news stories of bad cops, of bad men impersonating cops, gripped her mind. Was it slasher movie time?
“Not a Patrol uniform. More of a sheriff’s look.”
As he stepped out, Keira focused on the man in her side mirror. No rain gear. Not even a hat. But armed. Definitely armed.
“Armed and dangerous?”
“Geez!” Keira straightened fast as her insides ran wild with lust. “He’s gorgeous!”
Flowing to his shoulders, his rain slickened hair revealed his sculpted, rather exotic-appearing features.

“Rain god impersonating a mere human male?”
The casually arrogant way he strode toward her side window twisted Keira’s loins back to life, against all her wishes. Men weren’t her thing now.
“Omygod!” His thighs – sleek, yet powerfully muscled – Keira wanted to carve them with her hands. She broke out in a light sweat. Her hand squeezed the door handle, as she girded herself against the onslaught of rain.
“Hello,” she shouted through her cracked door.
“Follow me,” he invited, more than commanded.
Once she’d grabbed up her purse, he pivoted toward his car. Keira plunged into the drenching rain.

With no protection from the downpour, she dashed behind him and hoped he wasn’t the devil incarnate posing as a rain god.
Quickly, he snatched open the passenger door. Keira dove inside, part of her ridiculously concerned about getting his seat wet. As her rain god sheriff, or whatever he was, opened his door, she finger-combed her stuck hair off her cheeks, and concentrated on not looking at him.
Rain god or devil in disguise, she wasn’t prepared for him. No way.
His door clicked shut, an ominous sound. “Keira Summer Windsor. Would you like to see my driver’s license?”

She reached in her bag.
“Ms. Windsor.” His voice did not disappoint. No, smooth and deep, his timbre reminded her of a long summer night beneath an endless black sky.
Resisting the urge to shudder like a wanton, Keira looked at his face, compelled by his tone.
“Marshall Zane Dominik Vhulfe,” he formally intoned.
He also presented a small formal smile. Though, it was the warmth emanating from his gaze, the flame rising in the depth of his eyes, that captured her attention. The flame intensified.
Why his whole name?
“Your license is not necessary, Ms. Windsor. Are you stranded?”

Keira nodded, shivering inside. Suddenly she felt possessed. Held in some sort of weird hypnotic state while he inspected her.
Strangely, she knew he sniffed her all over like one of her dogs. She felt it as tingles of awareness. Somehow she knew, as she knew the feel of the rain on her skin, he found it immensely pleasurable. Found her sexually desirable. Found...
If I open the door, run – I wonder if they’ll find my body?
Dark, but flecked with gold, his eyes mesmerized her. Gold flared into blazes, leaping toward her.
“What happened?” he asked, breaking the spell.

“No power, when I pressed the accelerator.” Keira averted her gaze. Goddess! The bone structure of his face was to die for. “Know where I can get a tow to a mechanic?”
“I’ll have David bring your car to his garage. I’m Marshall of Blue Moon Bay. David will take care of you. Fair price.”
“Thanks. Blue Moon Bay? What a wacky coincidence, Marshall Vhulfe. I’m looking for my cousin, Rob. Robert Bateman. He’s supposed to be staying at the Half Moon motel.”
“Zane,” he patiently encouraged. “Mother read all of Zane Grey’s westerns. You said ‘supposed’. Is something wrong?”

“Rob was supposed to call his mother last night. I was on my way past here. Said I’d check on him. He always calls.” She rushed the words out, then noticed how tight she’d clutched her bag against her chest.
“We’ll head over there right now. Nothing doin’ tonight with the rain. May I call you, Keira?”
“Of course... Zane,” she managed. “Great name. Read a few Zane Grey books... my teenage years.”
Is it possible to actually jump out of your skin?
“Nervous, Keira?” He moved to switch on the car.
Terribly. Wickedly. Jump out of my skull nervous.
~~~~~~

Author’s news and mews ~

The Kougar joined the Coffee Time Romance forum to participate in Eva Gordon’s Wolf seminar.
February 2010 - Seminar Host is Eva Gordon
Call of the Wild : Wolf Lore, truths and myths every writer should know about wolves

3rd -17th

A month long seminar for writers who are interested in writing about wolves and werewolves in their stories but who want more background on the basic biology and behavior of real wolves. Writers will also learn why the wolf evolved from admired archetype to savage evil nemesis of man.
~ http://coffeetimeromance.com/board/forumdisplay.php?f=480 ~
~~~~~~

HAPPY VALENTINE’S DAY

May your brightest, most romantic dreams come true ~

Savanna

Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance ~

The Elegance of Mid-Winter Champagne

Pic from ~ http://vintagescans.blogspot.com ~

Ever crave the sophisticated elegance of a bygone age like the late 1930's and the early 1940's? A time when women and men related to each other within a certain code of manners and civilized respect. Or so it appeared in those black and white movies I watched while an impressionable teenager.
If so, please enjoy this burgeoning romance told by Flash Fiction and set in an Other World.

Mid-Winter Champagne

ONE
He brought the dark green bottle in from chilling on her home’s frigid marble patio. Popping the cork, he filled their two flutes. She accepted the one he handed down to her, smiling, a generous curve of her lips. Not only did her eyes glisten, he swore her skin glistened with the luster of pearls every time he’d seen her smile.
Hell, he might as well have been socked in the gut the few times she’d turned and smiled at him.
He followed her gaze to the double translucent doors he’d just stepped through, and shut against the cold blast.

TWO
Outside, afternoon’s failing sunlight still sparkled on the frozen crystal that coated everything. The cast-iron garden statues held his attention the most, appearing to have arrived from their own magical mystical realms.
He’d admitted it a long while ago. That she utterly bewitched him, and intrigued his soul. He didn’t believe it was because she usually kept her distance from him, one rose he’d never sniffed or savored beneath him.
In truth, he remained uncertain why she allowed his company now.
Lounging against one of her favorite floor pillows, she saluted him with the newly poured champagne. “To the mid-winter.”

THREE
“To the mid-winter,” he echoed, saluting in return.
Since it was the best place to view her, he’d perched atop the substantial arm of a high-backed reading chair. Without a tinge of conscience, he indulged in her unique beauty. She wore nothing particularly revealing, or inviting to a man’s carnal nature. Her winter’s outfit was one for casual gatherings. The dark blue corduroy slacks hinted at her shapeliness, and a snowflake sweater only skimmed her plush, gorgeously round breasts. Her sensible, yet stylish shoes made him wish she’d kick them off as she often did when he visited her father.

FOUR
Icy bubbles of champagne tickled her nose. He watched her delight in the sensation, then take the tiniest sip before raising the long-stemmed glass so the firelight scintillated through the pale amber fizz. Before he’d arrived, around noonish, to celebrate the holiday as a family friend, he knew she’d built the fire, now crackling happy notes in the moderately sized hearth. Because it was a sweet passion of hers.
“You haven’t tasted yet.” She repositioned herself, easing lower while keeping hold of the flute’s stem in a manner where not one drop spilled.
He tasted, tilting the glass up briefly.

FIVE
Her presence intoxicated him far more than any champagne could. “Excellent,” he praised. It was, the bouquet sharp and sparkling on his tongue.
“It should be.” She sipped, long and slow, obviously relishing. “Why did you stay here with me, instead of–“
“I wanted to,” he interrupted. “The question is, why didn’t you join in the merrymaking?”
“Should I dare tell you part of the truth?”
“Please.”
“I simply felt tired, suddenly weary of the social gaiety. A quiet evening seemed far more preferable, at least, for now.”
“You’re not feeling ill, are you?”
“No, I’m in the pink of health.”

SIX
Gazing at the lazy content flames, she tipped up another sip and appeared to be basking in the warmth of the fire and the internal warmth provided by the champagne.
“Father wants me to marry you. I know he does.”
He halted the rise of his glass. Everything inside him stilled as if covered by an unexpected ice storm. Finally lowering his glass, he offered, “That’s news to me.”
Damn, if he could see her face he might know what she was thinking. The lines of her body gave nothing away.
“Is it news?”
“Your father never discussed that possibility.”

SEVEN
“No, he wouldn’t, would he?” She deftly rolled onto her back. Propped up by the pillow, she rested the champagne flute on her belly, her fingers lightly clutching the glass stem. “He would make certain, though, that we were together as many times as he could arrange it.”
“Is that why I’m here? To satisfy your father’s scheme?” Hell, firecrackers might as well be exploding inside him. To cool off he drank too much of the champagne, dizzying his head.
“Yes. And no.” She didn’t look at him.
Moving to the chair’s seat, he stared at her face. “What do you mean?”

EIGHT
“I find myself at a difficult crossroads.” Lifting the glass, she twisted it back and forth, observing the swirling flash of the hearth blazes.
“Crossroads,” he managed to utter past the lump in his throat.
“There is no particular man I find, who interests me. Yet, I am pursued for marriage like a prize thoroughbred filly.” She took a small sip. “I no longer care for that courtship-endless game. I’ve changed, grown. I’m ready to settle into a life of domesticity, that is, with certain assurances.”
Forcing himself to dangle his flute instead of crushing it, he asked, “Such as?”

NINE
“I have certain intellectual pursuits I want to continue. I require the freedom to explore them.” Her gaze fully met his, her eyes brilliant, intense and beyond compare. “I’ve heard from certain of my girlfriends that you’re an excellent lover.”
Raising his champagne, he took a large swallow. The glass empty, he set it on a side table. “What about love, falling in love?”
“Love hasn’t seen fit to strike my heart. Longing and moon-eyed crushes, yes, in the past.” She averted her face, focusing on the champagne.
“Would you follow your father’s wish so closely?”
“If it suits me.”

TEN
There was no question he would grab what she offered. “Yes.”
“Yes?” Her gaze flashed toward him, her hair swinging in lovely waves at the quickness of her movement.
“Marry me.”
“We’ve never even kissed.”
“A problem easily solved.”
She sat up, placing her flute on a fireside table. “Are you so certain you want a wife, the responsibilities of marriage?”
“I’ll be a faithful husband. I agree to your terms. Are there more?”
“Maybe.” She scrutinized him. “I haven’t thought it through.”
“Then, we should begin with a kiss.”
“We should. No use marrying if our lips don’t mate.”
~~~~~~

PROMO: As an antidote to the record cold weather, the Kougar went hunting for pictures of handsome men on beaches for the ~~ Fill Your Ebook Reader Blog Tour ~~ on Friday, the 15th of January.
A group of us Liquid Silver authors are getting together once again, offering some respite from the winter blues and some great ebook prizes. The fun begins at ~ Paige Tyler’s blog ~ http://paigetylertheauthor.blogspot.com ~
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Wish Upon on a New Year Star...
May your brightest, most romantic dreams come true...

Savanna Kougar

~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance ~

Author of ~

All Shades of Blue Paradise
Red Lioness Tamed
When a Good Angel Falls ~ In Print
Tangerine Carnal Dreams
Murder by Hair Spray in Gardenia, New Atlantis ~ In Print
Black Cat Beauty
Her Insatiable Dark Heroes ~ In Print
Stallion of Ash and Flame ~
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