ShapeShifter Kisses

May 20, 2015

Finding His Sex Pet by Savanna Kougar

Filed under: Uncategorized — Savanna Kougar @ 11:02 pm

Quickening howls and yowls, shapeshifter lovers.

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


Finding His Sex Pet

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Thus, he could stroke and fondle her at will.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sex pet,” she spat at him. “I am no one’s pet.”

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

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

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

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

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


Wishing you love and passion on the wild side ~ 


Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance


May 13, 2015

The Rogue Stray Cat Struts His Stuff by Savanna Kougar

Filed under: Uncategorized — Savanna Kougar @ 11:55 pm

Tuesday howls and yowls, shapeshifter lovers.

Ever hear one of those songs that just tickles you no end? Well, that’s your flash scene for today. I hope you enjoy.


The Rogue Stray Cat Struts His Stuff

“A crash course in Earth culture,” Kalina muttered, practicing her use of the English language. She waved her hand over the wall-sized monitor, installing the last of the current information gathered from the world wide web, including the depths of the dark net, and all the Q-clearance intel organizations she’d discovered.

Instead of an AI assassin, she’d become more of a bits-and-bytes spy. Entering the cyberworld as frequency consciousness, Kalina hid out, observing the flash and flow of traffic. Whenever lightning-pulses of secret info appeared, she chased the signature-stamped pulses down to source.

The project to save endangered information on the internet had become a serious priority with Dante. Ever since pages he’d saved to his primitive hard drive had disappeared on the net, the alpha werewolf had become a fiend for storing every last cyber-info bit he could get his paws on. To that end, over the last year’s time, he’d hired a  growing team of top-predator nerds.

Now hunting down the shadow-system perpetrators of scrubbed info, had become the favored sport of these shapeshifter nerds, and Kalina had given them tips on how and where to find their prey.

Recently, she’d helped to design the ultimate storage system, along with a secretive shifter who called himself Rogue Stray Cat. Speaking of, Kalina heard him crooning his adopted theme song as he sauntered toward the super-secured room.

“Black and orange stray cat sittin’ on a fence… Ain’t got enough dough to pay the rent… I’m flat broke but I don’t care … I strut right by with my tail in the air.”  With that Rogue Stray peeked through the crack of the sliding door, and grinned at her.

Tall, thin, with an air of regal nonchalance, he strolled inside. The door auto-shut behind him, and he took a quick swallow of his mud java as he called his first cup of coffee. Raising his brows in question, he gaze directly at her.

“Complete,” Kalina answered, then smiled at him.

Rogue Stray flipped back a shock of black and orange hair. “Let’s give it a trial run, kiddo. Then prep a program for capturing the latest and greatest on the world wide wiretap.”

“Agreed. But first you have to sing… is it the chorus?”

With a smooth flourish of his wrist, he held the coffee mug like a mike, singing… “Stray cat strut, I’m a ladies’ cat… A feline Casanova, hey man, that’s where its at…Get a shoe thrown at me from a mean old man… Get my dinner from a garbage can.”

After an affected wiggle of his dark brows, he added, “I have to tell ya, ET kiddo, the garbage cans around here are gourmet eatin’.”

“I bet they are.” Kalina giggled lustily. She couldn’t help it around him. Even though her sweetheart squeeze, as she whispered in his ear everyday… one alpha wolf shifter, Zortega, the courageous man who had rescued her, and now possessively body-guard protected her daily… he would snarl and bare his teeth whenever Rogue Stray entertained her like this.

Learning he was all snarl and no werewolf-bite, Kalina always soothed Zortega with soft kisses on his large handsome face.

“When is that savage wolf mate of yours due today?” Rogue Stray seriously regarded her. Although, laughter shone in his moon-bright, dark yellow eyes.

Kalina well knew he feline-enjoyed baiting Zortega. With a toss of her long hair, she replied, “He has a long meeting today with Dante, and most of those in the inner circle. Those who patrol and protect Talbot’s Peak Territory.”

“Ah, then you’re at the tender mercy of my claws,” Rogue Stray bantered. He swallowed down much of his mud java, and when he looked at her again, the nerdish glitter in his eyes ignited. “Let’s see what you’ve accomplished, little cyber miracle worker.”

The next several hours flew by comet-swiftly, as Kalina demonstrated, then explained her crystal cyber library. No spider-net cloud where info could be easily hacked… no, the global information she’d collected was now permanently catalogued inside the specialized crystals she knew how to grow. The thumb-sized crystals dazzingly flickered whenever Kalina accessed them.

“Would you like to hear your theme song?” she asked, once they explored the music library. At his eager nod, she added, “Just start singing.”

“I don’t bother chasing mice around… I slink down the alley looking for a fight…Howling to the moonlight on a hot summer night…Singin’ the blues while the lady cats cry, “Wild stray cat, you’re a real gone guy.”

Instantly, the immense screen displayed an icon for every recording, every video made so far, and included karaoke renditions. To Kalina’s surprise and delight, the center image circled larger. And there he was, her Rogue Stray. Attired in a slouch hat, dark blue sunglasses, and a ‘righteous’ outfit, he stood in front the microphone. A three-piece band played behind him as he sang the lyrics in a blusie crooning yowl.

“Yep, it’s me, kiddo.” Pride colored his words. “You aren’t going to let that singing cat out of the bag,” he added quickly, but in his usual humor-filled tone.

“No. Not if you don’t want me to.” Kalina instantly knew she owned the image-key to discovering more about him. Perhaps to discovering his past, his origin. Who he truly was… at least, some major-star clues.

“That’s the *claw cuts both ways* deal with worldwide access to info about anyone at any time, isn’t it?” he quietly asked, his tone almost a purr.

“It is. Tracked, traced, and data-based, as they say.” Kalina pointed to the giant monitor to mute the sound. She turned to face him. “It’s why Dante examines anyone allowed to work at this level. Their character, I mean. He vetted you. Don’t worry, I won’t pursue more about you.” She smiled to reassure him. “Although, my curiosity is high. I must admit.”

“Curiosity killed the cat. In my case, satisfaction won’t bring him back, kiddo. I got some mighty mean bad-ass guys on my tail. They don’t give a rip or RIP who they eliminate on the way. If you get my drift?”

His words rang true as a space geyser about to erupt. “I understand. Being on the receiving end of bad-guy pursuit myself.”

“So, I heard.” He gave her a sly wink of comradery. “Enough of this lazin’ about. Let’s get some work done.”

“One of these days, you’ll confide in me, Rogue Stray kitty kat. I have one of those listening ears. That’s what Zortega tells me.”

“Someday,” he promised, as they moved toward the master console.

Behind her, Kalina heard him purring-croon, “I wish I could be as carefree and wild, but I got cat class and I got cat style.” 

“You do got cat class and style,” she threw over her shoulder.


Wishing you love and passion on the wild side ~


Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance


May 7, 2015

Dragon Shifter In My Kitchen by Savanna Kougar

Filed under: Uncategorized — Savanna Kougar @ 1:30 am

May howls and yowls, shapeshifter lovers.

So, who can resist a naked dragon shifter? Solara’s flash scene caught my fancy, of course. Question: will dragon shifters now be invading Talbot’s Peak in a good way?


Dragon Shifter In My Kitchen

So, a naked man in the mayoral mansion’s kitchen, who is supposed to be a rock star dragon shifter… that was the rumor going around. Yeah, like a wildfire refusing to be put out. I heard it at Java Joe’s when I was purchasing my supply of special blend coffee. It’s one of the few indulgences I have left in this beyond-strange world.

Hunkered over my kitchen table, I prop open one bleary eye. The soup mug I use for my organic coffee is cradled between my palms. Before taking the first sip, I let the rich steamy fragrance penetrate my oh-so willing nostrils. Hopefully, the vapors have a direct route to my pea-soup foggy brain.

I didn’t used to be this way. Once upon an age ago, I’d awake in the morning bright-eyed and bushy tailed. Although, I have no tail, unlike most of those who live in Talbot’s Peak. As I discovered over the past year’s dedicated research.

Okay, as a human, mostly human anyway, I think… how did I end up in this ‘high strangeness’ supernatural lair?

Once upon an age ago, I had big brave dreams. However, as it turned out my dreams were a star I couldn’t reach. I fell far short, fell into the depths of poverty, despite ‘going for it’ … despite ‘following my passion’ … despite taking every leap of faith I could.

Yep, I almost killed myself trying.

To be perfectly honest, I don’t have a freaking clue why I’m even still alive on planet Earth. Yeah baby, it’s a big fat damn miracle alright. However, these days, I suspect the Almighty must have a twisted and epic sense of humor… you know, like the cosmic joke… at least, in my case.

Anyway, one morning, almost a decade ago, I learned how to become invisible. They said it was an ancient ability in my genetic code, one ‘they’ resurrected. And I’m not the only one out there — as I understand it.

In Art Bell’s heyday as king of paranormal nighttime radio, he dedicated a few shows to those who became unaccountably invisible — like standing in a line at a bank, and no one can see you. That kind of thing.

Yeah, for real, check it out. You got the internet.

You might be wondering at this point: Who is ‘they’? Wish I knew.

Or maybe I don’t. Since my all-over-the-world, burn-the-candle-at-both-ends assignments have brought me to this pathetic state of health.

The upside. Yeah, there is one. ‘They’ the Unseen Ones have seemingly deserted me, abandoned me in this paranormal-haven community.

The downside: no money… or no more viable bank account. I’m existing on my little stash of gold and silver. If you must know.

I take a couple of sips of the now cool-enough coffee, and savor. And, thank goodness, my sudden case of extreme tooth sensitivity several days prior, has eased off.

Back to the naked dragon shapeshifter. My lips actually curve upward in a semblance of a smile. I take another long sip, then release the dragon beast into the inner sanctums of my mind.

Like the rumor, I envision him sleeping outside by back door — in my little, bird-filled yard. Of course, he’s a monstrously powerful, sleek and shiny-scaled dragon. He’s the color of a moonless night rinsed by countless rainbows.

Yep, fantasy allowed when daydreaming. Even though, much of fantasy is, in fact, reality in another dimension — or in the Earth’s past hidden ages.

Hint: Go watch the latest Star Wars movie. Ain’t a space fantasy, my friends.

After another swallow of coffee my brain kicks into gear. Good thing. ‘Cause I’m deciding on what my naked dragon shifter is gonna look like when he comes into my kitchen.

Tall, dark, and dragony handsome? Why not?

After all, Greely, a little adorable frog shifter, got her dream-come-true dragon shifter. Last I heard she was living in merry old England in his ancestral castle.

So yeah, just to stay somewhat sane in this obviously insane world, I’ve got to give myself something to daydream about. Plus, my love life has been nil, nada, nonexistent, for too many years to remember.

Hey, all I have left is my very vivid imagination. Which made my descriptive-prose reports to ‘they’ quite entertaining, as I was told.

Let’s see… mm-mm, well over six foot of sexy lean male. Bronzed skin stretched over carved scrumptious muscles. Long dark hair that invites my stroking fingers. Glittering, knowing eyes that beckon me to him. Oh, and that wicked smile… yes, yes… give me that smile.

Mentally, slowly, I run my gaze downward over my nude, fictional man-dragon. His arousal becomes more impressive as I stare at his long, thick cock.

“You summoned,” I hear behind me.

I jump like a startled rabbit. What’s left of my coffee flies everywhere. I manage to stand without falling over the chair, even as I spin around. I grab hold of the wobbling chair for support.

Good gawd! My heart races a marathon in one instant. There he is. Not exactly as I imagined… but perfect nonetheless.

“Are you injured?” the naked man solicitously asks. He takes two steps closer, leans toward me, and offers his hand.

I don’t take it. Shock has me in a vice grip. Yeah, I’m trembling like I’m about to be dinner.

He withdraws his large handsome hand. I watch him study me, speculation in the depths of his eyes. The color is like a green neon light shining on obsidian.

“You don’t know, do you?” He pauses a moment. “About your newly emerged power.”

“What power?” I hoarsely force the words out of my parched throat.

“To summon a dragon. A dragon protector.”

I freeze, not that I’m moving all that much, anyway. Except for all the shaking. But that stops, and my eyes feel as if they’re bulging out of their sockets.

And why wouldn’t they? They’ve seen a lot supernatural weirdness… but not… oh, shut up, I tell myself.

“That’s a new one on me.” The words stumble past my lips.

“I’ll be able to see you, even when you go invisible,” he proudly proclaims. Dammit, his bearing reminds me of a conquering matador

With my eyebrows stuck on the ceiling, I ask, “What do you know about me? … I suppose you have a name. After all,” I babble, my tongue loosening. “I can’t call you naked dragon shifter. Can I?”

“Ah, yes, my state of nudity. Pardon, but I thought it wiser to make a swift appearance. Your protection is my first concern.” His dark brows raise in question. “Should I retrieve my travel bag, and dress before a proper introduction?”

Sheesh! What do I say? As far as I’m concerned he can stay naked. Forever. Wouldn’t hurt my eyes any.

Yet… on second thought: how the hell do you have a good relationship with a dragon shifter protector? I mean, we do need to get along. If we’re going to be in close proximity.

“Sure. Clothing first. Then an introduction… would you like a cup of coffee?” I think to ask. “Oh, there is a spare bedroom. Probably a bit dusty, but tidy enough.”

The care and feeding of a protector dragon. The thought pops up unexpectedly as he quickly pivots out the back door.

I feel resolve take over. Something I haven’t felt for far too long. Hell, I don’t care how limited my resources are. Somehow I’ll find a way to take care of him.

Then the light blasts on in my weary and staggered brain. A novel. I could write a novel based on my true experiences with whatever his name is. That is, depending… well, who knew how this would all work out.

“I will be here for as long as you need me,” Mr. Dragon Man assures. He enters, an odd-looking, Victorian-elaborate bag beneath his arm.


Wishing you love and passion on the wild side ~ 


Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance


April 29, 2015

Coyote Shapeshifter Lost On Earth by Savanna Kougar

Filed under: Uncategorized — Savanna Kougar @ 6:26 am

Coyote Shapeshifter Lost On Earth

Sunny howls and yowls, shapeshifter lovers.

This flash scene is based on the pic above, which was featured  at Coast to Coast am

AND, also on a flash scene I wrote some time back. Here’s the beginning:

Shapeshifting Coyote in a Flying Saucer

Drukr almost yawned. He hated these reconnaissance assignments. It was either accept them, or be prepared never to set foot on the planet they currently investigated. That’s what he lived for, the on sight investigations.

He wanted to run the terrain, not merely holo-map it. He wanted to mingle with the life forms where he could, not merely observe them through the scope.

His skill as a pilot, served him well, and also did not. If the saucer malfunctioned, he was the man for the job. Otherwise, the metal brain, as he called it, controlled everything. Star scat, he was only along for the ride, the days’ long ride.

So far, the wilderness night life entertained him enough, right now. Earth, and this Montana state, possessed it’s natural charms. However, several minutes ago the abundance of animals suddenly vanished. Drukr searched for the cause, and could discover no predator, or human hunters. That’s when his bored yawn had begun.

“What the furball unholy…?!” he barked.

For the rest of this scene


Coyote Shapeshifter Lost On Earth

‘Worn down to parts I didn’t even know were there,’ Kesza mentally complained to herself. Unable to shift from coyote to human form because she was so insanely tired, Kesza laid her head on the discarded mattress.

Humans on Earth were a strange breed. No big fat scat doubt about that. Who knew if the undamaged mattress had been tossed as garbage, or lost when whomever was in route in one of those smelly, overly loud vehicles roaming along large ribbons of asphalt.

Kesza sighed to herself, and suppressed a yawn. Her mouth felt like she’d been chewing on sagebrush. No use giving the unforgiving desert a chance to dry it out further.

The sucking blackhole hell of it, she’d never failed before. This mission to track one of her ET shifter kind had begun auspiciously enough. Drukr, an accomplished planet mapper for their commercial-trade starship, had been mysteriously missing for half a year, Earth time.

She’d carefully analyzed the 3D holo-recording of his small mapping craft as it was laser-beamed out of the sky. The last image she’d seen was Drukr bolting as coyote from the plasma-arcing, destroyed craft. He’d raced at top speed into the old-growth forest, his tail on fire.

Even though, the robotic rescue ship arrived within a quarter day’s time, and performed a grid search, there’d been no sign of, or from Drukr. The melted smoldering craft had been encased in an ice cocoon, and brought aboard for in-depth analysis.

Data had been recovered from the craft’s core matrix — the Earth terrain mapped, and a recreational stop at an underground shapeshifter complex known as the Interspecies Pleasure Club. Drukr had earned the privilege, and there’d been no evidence to suggest an ensuing problem.

While investigating the source of the laser beam attack by a competing merchant space race, as she discovered, Kesza had pinpointed their Earth base. When she’d used the ship’s sensors to sweep the mountain cavity, suddenly Drukr’s emergency ping registered. Yet as swiftly it disappeared.

Using her feminine coyote wiles, Kesza infiltrated the competitor’s base. She’d accessed their surveillance system. Drukr had been there alright, but as a quick in-and-out intruder. Most likely he’d been looking for evidence. But why?

Once she made her escape from the mountain base, Kesza tracked Drukr through infrequent ‘pings’, and the various Mexican cuisine establishments he favored on Earth. Finally, after months, she’d lost track of him when he’d rented a car, and began a road trip through the Four Corners region.

Why he was on the run, Kesza hadn’t found a scat-scent of a clue… if he was on the run. Often, she wondered if he’d decided not to be found. Although, her usually reliable sixth sense suggested otherwise.

Just two weeks before she’d nearly caught up with him at the car rental agency, Kesza had caught the barest whiff of his scent on a restaurant’s barstool. Fear permeated the molecules.

Now… here she was lost in the middle of the desert, and lost on Earth, since her own emergency locator had ‘somehow’ been deactivated. To top it off, whoever the enemy was, they’d also disabled the Jeep she’d rented, zapping the hood with a manufactured lightning strike.

She’d shot away like Drukr from his craft, and run for miles as coyote. Then, there’d been the confrontation with a desert coyote pack. When the males had shown signs of accepting her, the hostile females attacked.

Not wanting to waste what remained of her energy fighting them off, Kesza outraced them, only to leap from a striking rattlesnake and slam her side into a huge cactus.
While her healing had been rapid, that had depleted her further.

Several days in search of civilization had cost her dearly. When a few skinny mice crossed her path, she’d snapped them up, hungry beyond belief.

Sighting a highway, albeit with no visible traffic, Kesza had numbly slowly padded toward it. Until the abandoned mattress. The oasis called to her, an irresistible force since she’d rarely slept — then only curled up on the hard desert floor.

Weary down to every last bone she owned, Kesza began to drift off into a much needed snooze. Desperation, the fact that she was an easy target, kept her on the edge of consciousness — kept her awake enough to hear the cautious approach of another coyote.

She opened one eye…

TO BE CONTINUED… since I’ve run out of time and energy… yeah, too many unexpected interruptions today.


No yip-yip doubt he was beguiled…

Tuesday howls and yowls, shapeshifter lovers.

I’ve been busier than a fox in an unguarded henhouse… including being forced to upgrade to highspeed internet – which I didn’t know was now available in my tame-prairie area –  because my dialup number will no longer be available – so that’s been somewhat of an adventure, and I lost sleep putting it all together last night. But so far, so good… and a huge improvement over my primitive computer system…

Thus and so, here’s a continuation of my flash scene from last week, titled: Coyote Shapeshifter Lost On Earth


No yip-yip doubt he was beguiled…

Her tantalizing odor tickled his nostrils, an unceasing wonderful torment that drew Drukr closer…and ever closer. No yip-yip doubt he was beguiled by the woman coyote beauty who’d been chasing his furry and his bare-butt tail. For good reason.

Yet he couldn’t return to Ship. He’d been laser tagged by an alien spec-ops team, who were serious as a sucking blackhole about capturing him. And, not just bagging him for interrogation and gruesome experiments, but for Borg-ing the silicon-control structure of his commerce spaceship.

The tech was from another alien race who were obviously in cahoots with Earth humans military. With the first sting, he’d known, and run like a starving vampire toward a hot-blood dinner.

It had become a Wiley-coyote game, even silly cartoonish at times — keeping a few paws ahead of the various black-ops teams they’d sent to trap him. Part of him grinned most of the time, enjoying the hell out of winning against their amateurish attempts.

Then the game escalated to galactic proportions. He’d had to outwit her. Kesza, tracker extraordinnaire by any measure in the known galaxies.

Now she was an endangered alien species because of her unable-to-shift exhaustion. No way would Drukr let her be taken captive. So, he’d be her bodyguard. Only…

If he wasn’t evading her relentless search for him, he was prey to wanting her. Yip-yip-howl, with an insatiable carnal appetite.

Feeling her eye his approach, Drukr padded more slowly. She raised her lovely coyote head, a snarl beginning low in her throat.

‘Drukr,’ he announced telepathically, and halted his approach. At the same moment, she caught a whiff of hm, the growl dying in her throat.

He watched her ears swivel back, and she gave him a disgusted look. ‘Where have you been?’

‘Tagged. I can’t go back to the ship.’ Drukr figured simplicity was best. Besides, the smell of her fatigue suggested she wasn’t up for a lengthy explanation of his plight.

Alarm registered in her dark lustrous eyes. She sniffed, and Drukr felt her energy zag through him. Even tired down to her beautiful bones, she still checked out the truth of his words.

‘Now we’re both targets.’ Drukr moved toward her again, but as if he walked atop a bed of cactus. Even worn out, she could viciously attack. Nail him with her superior-fighting skills, and force him to return.

No star-way would he let the ship’s systems be assimilated. Not only would the city-large craft be compromised severely, it could mean the death of everyone aboard.

‘Targets’, she mind-yawned. ‘You don’t happen to have a safe hideout, do you?’

‘There’s an abandoned gold mine…’ he began.

‘Before I collapse, let’s go,’ she interrupted. Rising quickly, Kesza stretched, every lean gorgeous line of her, and Drukr lustily salivated. ‘I feel the enemy nosing around.’ She padded over the mattress toward him.

‘We’ll have to lay down a false trail,’ Drukr spun around, knowing she would follow.

‘Don’t say lay down,’ she sniped inside his mind. ‘Go! I’ll keep up.’

Drukr snapped his head around even as he trotted over the desert floor. He had to witness with his own eyes, that she was behind him. ‘There’s a more comfy mattress with bedding at the gold mine,’ he encouraged.

With the sun’s heat threatening to burn their hides, Drukr launched into a ground-eating trot. Just to make certain, he kept one ear tilted back listening to Kesza’s gait, somewhat jerky because of her depleted state.

As minimally as he could, Drukr circled and zigzagged them toward his lair. Once they reached a shelf of weather-bared stone, he wove them between several enormous outcroppings of rock.

The opening to the gold mine was rudimentary, a hole in the ground long covered over by a thick patch of sagebrush. Drukr slipped inside, immediately crawling the short distance to a mine shaft that was significantly cooler, and could accommodate his human height.

He whipped around, morphing to man in the same instant. Behind him, Kesza collapsed in his arms. She was so limp Drukr gathered her close to his chest as he walked to his sparse yet comfortable enough living area.

He’d been able to stay hidden longer than usual, and had furnished the mined cavern with throwaway finds from an isolated, wealthy community. Rather proud of himself for staying free and alive on Earth, Drukr spent hours planning on how to sneakily accumulate the comforts of home.

Given it was about an hour’s travel as coyote to the community, he often hijacked unattended vehicles, disabled their sensor electronics, then used them to hide his treasures — where he would retrieve them much later.

Before Drukr could place her on a warm waterbed, Kesza had fallen into a deep sleep. With a gentleness he didn’t know he possessed, Drukr laid her in the center, a pile of limbless beautiful fur.

On impulse he lightly kissed her cheek. By the grace of the Grand Coyote, she hadn’t been tagged, not marked in any way. She could return to Ship.

But Drukr already knew he’d miss her like a knife stuck between his ribs. No, a knife piercing his heart.

Drukr stepped back and gave her the sniff test. All Kesza needed was uninterrupted sleep, and a good meal. All she need was him watching over her. Until she recovered.

Mournful howls to their homeworld, there had to be a way to remove the laser-implanted tag embedded in his lung. Sitting on his bare-ass haunches, Drukr watched her sleep without a twitch.

If he could get them to Dante’s Pleasure Club, the alpha werewolf, just might have the hidden-world contacts to help him. Drukr also knew for a fact, the massive underground club had the advanced tech to keep it shielded from satellite and Tesla-energy ground surveillance — even though his small mapping craft had been able to penetrate, and he’d observed a playground of eroticism.


Wishing you love and passion on the wild side ~ 


Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance 

Wishing you love and passion on the wild side ~ 


Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance

December 13, 2014

The Stud is Released… and the Big Daddy Cat Trio by Savanna Kougar

Filed under: Shapeshifter Erotic Romance — Tags: , — Savanna Kougar @ 2:12 am
New Release ~ Ride the Roan Stud


On a vision quest, Ghost Walker succumbs to the harsh desert of the Four Corners badlands. With death’s talons striking, he is rescued by a mysterious mustang.

Running as horse, Grant Thunderhead senses an intruder trigger the forcefield protecting his steam engine caverns. Investigating, he finds a beautiful unusual man who will rescue his heart.


The Stud was Released on December 9, 2014
Shape-shifter Erotic Romance, M/M
Word Count: 34,631
Heat Level: SEXTREMEThis title is offered at a 10% discount. Offer ends midnight CST, December 16th



The Big Daddy Cat Trio
Howliday greetings and kisses, shapeshifter lovers.

I couldn’t resist adding to the caroling merriment happening in The Peak. While these made-up lyrics can’t compete with Pat’s from yesterday… well, yowls, the Big Daddy Cat Trio gives it their jazz-tune best.

Now while the children are sleeping… direct from Talbot’s Peak square,  in front of the dog-bowl sculpture, and the treat-trimmed Christmas tree…

We’re yowling for a white Christmas
Where we romp and roll in the snow
As the snowflakes glisten
And the girl cats listen
Then decorate us in a red bow

Oh yeah, we’re purring for a white Christmas
With every delightful mating fight
May your winter nights be wild and coupling tight
And may all your Christmases be out of site

Oh yeah, groovin’ and night-movin’ Big Cats
We’re dreaming of a white snowy Christmas
Beneath every cycling moon dark and bright
And may you hump with every tangling bite

Oh yeah, merry and bright, merry and bright
The yowls sing throughout the long Christmas night
Lion, Tiger, Puma, Jaguar are doing merry right
Cheetah, Leopard, Ocelot too, swing sway and groove
Oh yeah, make merry, the Big Cats make a lovin’ move
Beneath the Christmas tree’s twinkling light

Twinkling light…merry and bright…twinkling light

Wishing you love and passion on the wild side …


Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance


November 27, 2014

Drev aimed his hunting rifle… by Savanna Kougar

Filed under: Uncategorized — Tags: — Savanna Kougar @ 5:48 am

Thanksgiving kisses, shapeshifter lovers.

So, a couple of announcements. Once I get some time, I’ll put the finishing touches on our ShapeShifter Seductions free read, LOVE TO THE RESCUE, and upload it  to Smashwords, etc. Serena Shay has designed a lovely and character-perfect cover.

Also, the final edit for RIDE THE ROAN STUD, written by my alter ego, Stevie Klark, has been turned in. If you want to check out the fab-beautiful cover art go to ~

Alright then, this week I’m offering what could be the first chapter of a Talbot’s Peak erotic romance short story… that is, if my wonderful and wacky muse cooperates… and if life cooperates??? Yeah, who knows?


Chapter One ~ Drev Zander

Drev aimed his hunting rifle at the ten foot tall, densely woven bush where he heard the telltale gobbles. He followed the emerging flurry of wings as the wild turkey began to take off in flight. About to the pull the trigger, his jaw dropped instead.

The rifle fell from his line of sight.

“What the ‘f’?” left his mouth as puffs of steam. A giant burst of light, then a white-winged, pale purple horse galloped in front of the only turkey he’d been able to track for days.

With a twinkling flash, the ethereal beautiful creature vanished from view. But not before Drev caught the scent of lilac and musky equine, an intriguing mix he found appealing.

What the freakin’ hell had he just seen? And, was she real? As in flesh and blood? And not some ephemeral vision, or some strange, inter-dimensional intrusion into his reality.

Damn, he wasn’t a drinkin’ man, except for a couple of brewskies during the weekly poker game at Louie’s bar and grill. And the malty Scottish ale he indulged in on Saturday night’s at Duff Mc’Duff’s old-fashioned tavern. Nor was Drev into the dug scene. No way, no how.

Okay, he reasoned, it was Talbot’s Peak, home of the shapeshifter crowd, and other assorted supernatural beings. He knew about the witches, the vampire dance partners at the supperclub. There was at least one goddess, and an Egyptian demigod.

But a purple tinted Pegasus who could obviously appear and disappear?

Rumors about a nude purple fairy, Drev considered to be town lore. Was he wrong?

Damn stunned to his core, Drev instinctively clutched his gun tight as he’d trained himself to do in any circumstance. Instinctively, he faded into the mid-afternoon shadows of the forest, a life-saving ability he’d fine-tuned during his short time as a special ops soldier.

Yeah, he’d been kicked out dishonorably. Not following orders did that to a man.

As it turned out, no sweat off his brow. He had no stomach for killing the innocent, or collateral damage as they euphemistically called it.

Yeah, he slept well at night.

Still as stone, on watch for any high strangeness, Drev began buzzing with his hunter’s honed intuition. Or the sight as his granny called it.

Given his flash-brief sighting, Drev figured a conversation with dear gran on the other side was long overdue. Not that she’d ever mentioned a winged horse.

Sure as the laughing devil himself, she’d delighted in telling him *scare the hide off you* stories about the Kelpie, a horse shifter, and about the Each Uisge, a Highland supernatural water horse.

Waiting for the buzz to quit, Drev replayed the paranormal event in his mind. So, there had been the sound of hooves softly crunching the blanket of frost-saturated leaves.

With his shock subsiding, and his curiosity on fire, Drev silently moved toward the bush, his keen eye searching for hoof prints. He’d been trained to track by his friend and mentor, Dane, a mountain man and a puma shapeshifter.

Currently, he and Dead Aim Dane, as he was affectionately known, worked together keeping the Peak’s animal life in balance, and also supplying meat to Dante. The alpha werewolf owned the subterranean complex known as the Interspecies Pleasure Club, and his customers were ravenous for wild game.

Hunkering down, studying the first hoof impression, Drev felt the fast throb of his blood. Excitement built inside him, even as the land’s subtle energies flowed through him telling him more about her.

Yes, the supposedly mythical horse had to be a she, given her dainty structure, the refined shape of her head. As his sighting of her flared before his mind’s eye, Drev realized the gorgeous creature’s image had been burned into his brain, never to lessen or be forgotten.

Without thought, Drev slowly followed the minimal outline of her hooves. The length of her stride was longer than he’d anticipated, as if she floated.

Scat! As Dane would say. Drev stood on the edge of the mile’s high, rock cliff, staring into the blue, autumn-golden Montana sky. Unless his girl Pegasus could transform into a small puffy cloud… well hell, she was nowhere to be seen.

Only her deep hoof prints remained, evidence of her existence, and that she’d launched into the great blue yonder.  Winging where? Or had she merged with the very air?

Drev sighed and growled at the same time. He’d struck out twice today. The young tom had been destined for his brother’s Thanksgiving table. Chased out of his flock,  now he’d be prime eatin’ for a predator.

Dammit. Drev stomped a boot on the rocky surface, frustration owning him for moments. With four kids and work sporadic these days, his brother and his wife hadn’t been able to budget in the traditional feast.

While he could afford to help out, despite his live-off-the-land lifestyle, there wasn’t an organic turkey to be had in town. Not that he could find. Yeah, understandable as hell, no store in Talbot’s Peak dared offer predator shapeshifters anything but high quality meat and poultry.

Drev slung his rifle over his shoulder, then scanned the primal majesty of the scenery that suited him just damn fine. With a keen ear he listened for any sign of danger. He also listened to the musical symphony of the forest, of the pine-tree valley below.

He’d come to understand this enormous uncivilized land reflected his character, what he was on the inside. Drev drew in large breaths of the crisp cold air, calming and energizing himself for his return trip.

Not a week ago he’d trekked into Talbot’s Peak from his mountainside cabin. Since his brother lived about forty minutes away, he’d arranged for boxes of groceries to be delivered.

These days Drev’s only transportation was a snowmobile. And he liked it that way.  Except in a helluva situation like this. Yep, three strikes, he was out. And out of luck. As far as a holiday turkey dinner.

All because of a gossamer-like, winged horse most would consider to be mere hallucination… or a figment of their imagination. Not fevered obviously, but induced by freezing your effing ass off out in the middle of the forest.

In Drev’s case, his unusually rapid metabolism kicked in, and he stayed warm enough no matter the frigid temps. Oh yeah, he’d learned why — the hard, being-experimented-on way. During his short stint, the military’s genetic scientists — funded by trillions of missing tax dollars — traced it to his Celtic ancestors. Or the ancient lineage responsible for the legendary berserker warriors.

Double piles of scat! Only the denizens in hell knew the monster soulless warriors his blood and tissue samples were likely helping to build, had already genetically built. Once, as Drev was being dragged back to the recovery room by two musclebound soldiers, who believed he was still conked out, he’d glimpsed row after row of nude men on hospital beds.

The usually closed and barred door had been left open.

Using his peripheral vision, Drev mentally recorded the perfect soldier types, perfect because of their super-sized, GI Joe physiques. But shit on a stick, they’d looked like frozen corpses waiting to be animated.

Yeah, brought to life like sc-fi Frankensteins, they would obey orders without question, without sentient thought.

Drev shook his head vigorously, clearing away the nightmare-creepy remembrance.

The moment he stilled, he felt feathers caress his face. The tips of her wing feathers so impossibly delicate as the sensation of being stroked continued for several moments.

I am sorry, hunter, he heard inside his mind. I couldn’t help myself. Soft whirls of air brushed against Drev’s face. Then. I didn’t know you were feeding your family.

For just a split second, Drev had to ask himself if he was take-me-away delusional. Yet, deep down, he knew better. Often, he and Dane communicated telepathically when they hunted together.

Besides, the fragile feminine voice not only teased his soul with a had-to-solve mystery, but triggered every male atom of him. His cock swelled, quickly becoming ramrod hard.


Wishing you love and passion on the wild side …


Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance


September 16, 2014

Freedom was a beast she wanted to ride… by Savanna Kougar

Filed under: Uncategorized — Savanna Kougar @ 6:14 pm

Mid-September kisses, shapeshifter lovers.

First, take a look at this new Nessie sighting.

HEADLINE-SNIPPET: Is this the Loch Ness monster?

Is this the Loch Ness monster – spotted 150 miles from its traditional home?

Photographer Ellie Williams captured this amazing image of what she believes to be a creature from the deep while taking snaps in the Lake District.

The 24-year-old had set up her camera tripod to automatically take photos throughout the day at Windermere.

It was only when she reviewed the images, which were supposed to be of the colours of the changing seasons, that she came across the shocking snap.



Then, here’s a flash-scene I wrote back in August 2011. Since it follows the *lone wolf* theme Pat intro-ed for her Monday flash, I thought you might enjoy it. Plus, I added a little update.

Anyhoo, I need time to finish polishing my mss, Ride the Roan Stud, so I can submit it, then move onto the my next WIP. I’ve been begging for an out-of-time closet where I can write to my heart’s content, then simply step back into current time… but, so far, my request to the writing goddesses and gods has fallen on deaf ears… yeah, maybe, someday. ~silly grins~


Freedom was a beast she wanted to ride.

“Get yer motor runnin’… head out on the highway,” Kristy screaming-sang the words of the Steppenwolf song playing in her head. She barely heard them because they were whipped away by the blast-furnace winds on either side of her.

Why she’d hopped astride her Harley, roared it into gear, and taken off down the nearest highway beneath the high noon sun… well, she knew why. Freedom was a beast she wanted to ride.

No, not wanted — had to ride. Right now.

Kristy hadn’t just reached the end of her rope, she’d been forced to climb way past it. Her nerves shrilled painfully, every last one of them. Yeah, like chalk scraping on a chalkboard. So too bad she was old enough to remember and cringe at that sound. Even now.

Good god! Where had her life gone?

To hell and back several times, she answered herself.

And, no, as she’d patiently and impatiently explained to family and friends, freedom wasn’t the name of her bike. Freedom was what she wanted. What she craved. What she yearned for until it became a torment inside her, and finally she acted.

Acted, despite all the endless, weight-of-the-world responsibilities calling her name each and every moment of every effing day. Christ, she was tired. Tired in body, mind, soul and spirit, as she put it to herself.

Hell, on top of it all, she had unbidden visions of being hooked up to some mad scientist’s colossal, sorta steampunk battery. Static electricity sizzled the air, waves and waves of it. In true movie style, gigundis, streaking bolts of lightning formed and flashed to white hot, and Kristy saw her listless body juiced up.

As the vision-fantasy progressed, and it always did, the leviathan flares of lightning raged around her. Edged in a fiendish shade of purple, the sinuous flares danced and twined like frenzied dragons. Until finally she heard, “She’s alive…she’s alive!”

These days riding her Harley, whenever Kristy could manage the time, had become her only escape. Her only true joy.

Sheer, fierce, get-away-from-it-all freedom, that’s how Kristy described it to herself, as she hauled ass down the twisty, backwoods highway to nowhere. At least, nowhere she’d ever been.

To freaking hell with everything she had to do… everything that was expected of her. Her life had become little more than a day to day grind — an existence she’d never wanted.

Crap, double crap! Even her ongoing sacrifices weren’t appreciated, much less noticed.

So, the sun relentlessly beat down on her back now, and she sweated like a pig. So, heat waves shimmered up from the asphalt, putting her into a light trance. Every now and then, she felt instants of relief as she zoomed through the shade of a tall tree. Especially since the highway’s elevation increased.

“Lookin’ for adventure…born to be wild,” she shouted the lyrics that were her soul.

On a flat stretch Kristy hit full throttle, and revved the Harley to flying speed. Leaning forward like a jockey, she smiled as she focused on the center line.

The zone enveloped her. Born to be wild, she rock-n-roll howled in her mind.

Everything felt incredibly deliciously perfect. The fast hot vibration between her thighs. The powerful roaring beast-machine beneath her that seemed to come alive. No, to be alive.

The sparse, old wood forest around her blurred, and the sensation of speed thrilled through Kristy. Speed, she adored it to her core.

Peace enveloped her, even as pure excitement shot through her like bolts of electricity.

“I’m alive! I’m alive,” she chanted.

The creature she suddenly glimpsed from the corner of her right eye, just before it dashed in front of her, had to be a wolf. It had to be, but it was too large, not shaped quite right. And why was it suddenly standing on two legs… just before…?

Kristy swerved with all her might to the left, and knew her time had come. I’m dead…I’m dead, she sang as the rear tire screeched her death. No matter what her excellent reflexes tried to do to save her, the Harley slid along the asphalt for such a long time, out of control.

This was as good a way to end her life as any — saving an animal — even it had been stupid enough to run in front of her when there was no other traffic. Because her last look at the enormous, dark gray creature before she smashed into the guard rail, and was propelled off the road… before the massive tree trunk filled her vision… it had been a wolf of some type with an almost human look to its eyes.

No more fucking bills to pay, she thought. No more taking care of everything for everybody else. No more struggling like a complete idiot day after day with very few moments of relief.

Still, Kristy felt sadness at the loss of her life. This wasn’t how she’d wanted to die, splat against an unforgiving tree trunk. But then when had she ever gotten what she wanted?

Except for the Harley, that was about to be blamed for her somewhat early demise.


Darthos couldn’t let the woman be murdered by the two serial killers waiting around the next curve. Already, the lab-created, human hybrids had claimed thirty lives he knew about.

Craving their next victim, they’d been about to chase the Harley rider down in their deceptive-looking, super-charged pickup truck. Using the isolated forest to their advantage, they planned to toy with her for miles, then go for the thrill kill.

Darthos had been tracking the two teenage males for the past week, and had come upon the scene too late. There’d been no way to capture the pair quick enough to save the woman. If he’d made his presence known and tried to stop the genetically bred killers, they would have eluded him while still sport-hunting the woman.

Not that it had been a particularly smart move on his part to send her careening into a monolithic sized pine tree. Darthos regretted that.

Dammit-ram it, the bare trunk she bounced off like a flung ragdoll was about twenty feet high. As he judged it now, the pine’s girth had to be four foot in diameter. He’d have to heal the tree’s extreme lacerations once he brought her back to life.

No evidence of the accident could remain.

Darthos raced as wolf toward the limp, nearly lifeless woman. He thanked the One Spirit she remained unconscious. Having rolled down the long incline, she lay on her side mostly, her body cushioned by a thick bed of pine needles.

Damn, stop the presses! Darthos had never seen a Harley so mangled and twisted. And he’d witnessed quite a few after they’d been wrecked by Hell’s Angels. The chrome brute could have been a gruesome art piece in a museum — the artist hailed for his eccentric genius.

Darthos gently licked the woman’s bloody, torn up face. Not wanting to waste his energy, he didn’t shapeshift into his human form. Besides, his saliva as wolf entered her bloodstream, preparing her body to heal at a rapid pace.

Darthos hoped he could breathe life back into the woman fast, and affect her resurrection without too many questions. Yeah, yeah, likely just delusional thinking on his part, since he couldn’t morph until she was close to being totally rejuvenated.

As soon as the woman moaned, and while she remained on the edge of unconsciousness,  Darthos pressed his nostrils to hers, and blew softly. He kept breathing his life force inside her until her eyelids flew open, and remained wide apart.

Saucer-shaped green eyes — the color of a deep forest just before twilight — focused on him. The woman stared in utter disbelief.

“What the bloody fuck…?” she sputtered. “This can’t be heaven. You’re not an angel,” she accused angrily, “you’re…you’re a wolf!”

Darthos backed up several steps as she bolted upright, her gaze fastened on him like a hunter’s rifle. Halting, he pointedly directed his gaze at her legs.

She followed, and when she caught sight of her youthful shape, and the beautiful gleam of her skin through the blood-soaked rips in her heavy-duty denims, the woman uttered a sharp startled cry.

Now frozen in place, she watched him with a glassy bewildered expression. Even as he slowly shifted into a man, she didn’t move. Couldn’t move judging by her fear-scent.

“There’s no time,” he began. Sirens wailed in the distance. Someone must have reported the Harley. Or the teenage killers had discovered his presence, and knowing they couldn’t overcome him, this had been their little fuck-you gift.

Darthos offered his hand. “You’ll have to come with me.”

“Where…?” broke through her obviously parched lips. But it was the lost, forlorn, scared-down-to-her-toes look in her green eyes that did him in, that grabbed his heart.

Seizing her hand, Darthos hauled her upward. “Got a new place in Talbot’s Peak. You’ll fit right in. I promise,” he added, before whipping around and tugging her after him.

In short order, the woman gave up, running lithely with him. Darthos sensed her surprised yet reluctant joy at how superbly her body worked.

Somehow he’d make it up to her with a new life. After all, his decision had been spur of the moment, and at least, she’d been saved hours of mental and physical torture.

And hot damn, if she wasn’t one beautifully packaged woman. Darthos decided he couldn’t wait to unwrap her. One way or another, he’d make his unit commander understand. That, or he’d go lone wolf on the super bad hybrids.



Talbot’s Peak, September 2015

Wearing the Halloween costume she’d designed for this year’s Unmasked Ball at the Pleasure Club, Kristy sauntered into the bedroom. “What do you think… my very own big bad wolf?”

Darthos rolled toward her in that sexy wolf way of his, and like always desire madly thrummed  through Kristy. Yeah, too bad the sheet covered his exceptionally hot assets.

A slow grin of sheer appreciation appeared on his rugged, unshaven face as her wolf-man roamed his gaze up and down her barely covered assets. “I could eat you up, darlin’ little red riding hood.” He paused, a wicked twinkle in his dark eyes. “And come back for more.”

“Mmm-mmm, devouring does sound good.” Kristy languidly rolled her hips, then provocatively thrust one of them. She palmed it. “But am I delicious enough to chase through the woods?”


Wishing you love and passion on the wild side …
Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance


June 7, 2014

The Demon Dog Angel Amongst Us by Savanna Kougar

Filed under: Uncategorized — Savanna Kougar @ 4:33 pm


Pic ~ Mark Lindsay of Paul Revere and the Raiders. He’s a look alike of today’s hero, Dhraki.

Saturday howls and yowls, shapeshifter lovers.

If you’re intrigued by the realm of angels and demons, this flash scene might be for you.

The Demon Dog Angel Amongst Us

The Good Lord knew — as well as Satan, of course — being a half breed angel and demon dog shifter had its share of gigundis and wacky challenges. Long ago…during the turn of the century…when the world spun like a maddened dervish teetering between great enlightenment or the darkness of war and oppression…Dhraki had gone renegade.

Disgusted down to his demon-angel bones, he’d refused service to the Light Force and the Dark Side. Why waste his eternal life, such as it was…even with the constant, high-strange harshness of it all…on this backwater, prison planet?

Okay-yips…because Dhraki despised lying, including lying to himself, he corrected his own thoughts. Yeah-barks of truth, since the ‘age of the garden’ when Eve had been cruelly seduced into producing an heir to the dark throne, Earth had been quarantined by the Light Council…the once paradise planet lost.

Yet not lost…even with he unending war in the heavens…the brutal battle between light and dark where nothing was ever resolved…would never be…not until the final hour on the cosmic time clock. And, holy of unholies, that hour could not be foretold.

Unwelcome in his home realms, Dhraki searched for a place to belong. Because, despite his interventions on behalf of those in need, the human world didn’t want to know about his existence — given their religions were not his friend, to put it walking-through-hellfire lightly.

Now, like a tourist, Dhraki strolled the streets of Talbot’s Peak, currently filled with the lunch crowd. The small growing town had gained quite the reputation on the underworld-net as a haven for not only shapeshifters but supernatural types like him. Yip-snort, not quite like him — from the bowels of hell and the glorious on high.

With keen interest, Dhraki scanned the various businesses and shops, and surreptitiously studied those he passed by. His angel side sucked in the kaleidoscopic-colored vibes put off by everyone around him, seen and unseen…while his demon dog side dined on their distinct smells.

Pausing in his stride, Dhraki watched a were-squirrel in human form scamper — travel bags in hand — down the steps of the mayor’s mansion. After tossing the bags in the back of the car, he hopped inside the passenger seat, as if life itself was about to grab his tail, then devour him whole.

Must be Mayor Gil, Dhraki thought, then shoved his hands deep inside the pockets of khakis. Although, there’d been no info about his animal form on the underworld-net. “Intriguing,” Dhraki muttered. “He must have an ‘in’ with the predators, and the werewolves in charge.” 

“New in town?” a feminine voice asked behind him, one that resonated to Dhraki’s core.

He knew before spinning around that the woman sensed his angelic side. The sacred fire flowed within her veins as well. And her tantalizing pink-rose scent bloomed around him, pure yet infinitely wise.

Once Dhraki faced her, surprise at her appearance caught him off guard, and he felt his brows raise to the brim of his rakish, down-under hat. That is, until he realized she’d intentionally disguised herself as a middle-aged woman — non-threatening in the extreme.

Dhraki stuck his hand out in the friendly fashion of humans. “My name is Dhraki. I just got into town and was taking in the sights. You are?”

“You’re not here to cause any trouble, are you?” She one-eyed him, and Dhraki witnessed the avenging angel. His demon-dog side almost withered on the spot. 

Almost…he gathered his force, and grinned. “Trouble is my middle name at times,” he bantered, hoping that would stop her flame like penetration of him. “No,” Dhraki quickly added. “I’m a benign sort. Unless attacked.”

She visibly relaxed, obviously hearing the truth of his words. “I’m known as Kimilia here. Kim for short.”

The softest hand he’d ever felt met his. And when her grip matched his, sparks leaped up Dhraki’s arm. But he didn’t release her hand. The demon dog howled with fiery rapture.

“A pleasure to meet you, Kimilia. How long have you been in Talbot’s Peak?”

She smiled, merely a small lift of her lips. Yet her features brightened, her beauty exposed for a fraction of time. Dhraki’s breath blasted back inside him at the sight.

“I arrived about a year ago,” she answered, her riveting silver-lavender eyes still assessing him. “My niece owns the ice cream shop… just two blocks down. We have quite the good business these days.” 

Reluctance ripped his inner hide, but Dhraki released her hand. “Too early in the day for ice cream?” he asked, simply to keep her talking with him.

“I was on my way. If you’re careful with that demon hellfire of yours, and promise not to melt the ice cream, I’ll make you a volcano fudge sundae.”

Her singsong voice, her melodic vibe twined around Dhraki and owned him down to his flaming core.

“You know,” he murmured, then gave her an audacious doggy wink. “I haven’t had a better offer in ages.”

In a blink, Kimilia’s face transformed to a somberness Dhraki had rarely observed in his long life. “What’s wrong?” The question poured out of him.

“Full disclosure,” she whispered only for his ears. Kimilia paused, her gaze flashing yet beautifully ephemeral. “I am in need of protection. When I first sensed your frequencies, I thought you might be one of ‘his’ dark angels on my trail. Or a hellhound who sniffed me out. With the shape of things to come…on Earth, I…”

As gently as he knew how, Dhraki took hold of his angel’s arm. He gentlemanly wrapped it around his. “How about that volcano fudge sundae? Then we’ll talk. I can be quite the ferocious guard dog.”

“You’ve gone renegade, haven’t you?” she softly asked, as they walked side by side.

“Thank God for the renegades,” he teased in a low growl.

“Thank God for avenging angels,” she returned, her tone solemn, much too solemn.


Wishing you love and passion on the wild side …


Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance 


June 3, 2014

Take me to your loins… by Savanna Kougar

Filed under: Uncategorized — Savanna Kougar @ 4:56 am


Art by Susan Sedon Boulet 
  June kisses, shapeshifter lovers.

A couple of weeks ago my hero, White Fang, a super wolf, and his heroine, Pasha, an Egyptian cat goddess, provided a nice surprise, the beginnings of a love scene. Link: “Mating dance or battle of the sexes?”
This week, Pasha gifted me with her side of their impassioned encounter.
Their story is yet to be fully written, and is titled, WHITE FANG, ACE WOLF REPORTER.
The following is unedited… but I hope you enjoy.


Take me to your loins…

The inferno force of the universe spun through Pasha as she feverishly kissed White Fang, and gently caressed his back with her human claws. She’d known once their hungry passion for each other was loosed, it would burn her. No, firestorm through her soul as if she rose in the ashes of the phoenix — a ritual she performed every seven years.
Her cat yowled savoring the extreme pleasure as White Fang straightened and drank in the sight of her. The vibrations of his gaze pummeled the swells of her breasts, delicious raw sensations that swirled over clit and wickedly teased her toes.
When White Fang stroked down her arms, then manacled her wrists, Pasha shivered inside. Predictably, her cat purred with fierce delight at his masculine power.
Let him be the victor in this first round of passion between them.
His wolfish kisses fell like a rainstorm on the parched need of her skin, swelling her breasts. Her nipples pushed against the confines of her gown, an ache of bliss all its own.
White Fang’s savage need dizzied Pasha, and his canine growl at being denied the taste of her breasts by the gown between them, sent a wild rush of heat that only a woman could feel. For, the man-wolf desired her beyond else.
“Beast,” she softly taunted. “What are you going to do to me now?”
His grip tightened on her wrists, a claiming Pasha felt like sparks of flame in her  belly, deep inside her pussy mound. “Your wolf beast,” he growled, his lips on her skin, his hot pants tingling the sensitive flesh between her breasts.
“My wolf beast,” she sultry-mewed, aware her cat heat saturated the air.
White Fang groaned a sharp growl, then nipped along the upper swell of her breast with his lips. He used his teeth to passionately pull her gown from one shoulder. Then, with the beastly finesse, he jerked the gown off her other shoulder, uncovering her trembling breasts.
His mouth caught hers hard, his kiss utter demand, his wolf lust ravishing her in a manner that shook Pasha to her cat woman core, and even made the goddess wanton.
Desperate for more, Pasha strained against White Fang’s hold on her wrists. Raising to her tiptoes, she sensually thrust her sex against the carved bold tower that was his cock.
At the thought of White Fang lunging inside her pussy, taking her, Pasha shuddered, her softer flesh shivering against his super-powered physique. Goddess yes! Every round curve of her adored the pyramid-hard planes and angles of him.
In sacred truth, White Fang was not superior in male form than some of her past lovers. Yet, his complete handsomeness of face and body — the driving, relentless strength of his muscles now pressed against her — excited Pasha beyond measure of the starry cosmos.
That alone surprised her, a rarity at this time in her centuries long life. Pasha reveled in the emotion. She basked in the way his mouth covered hers, obviously wanting more of her nipping sultry kisses.
With one hand, White Fang gently yet firmly trapped her wrists behind her back. Bold as a pharaoh, he shoved her closer, forcing her breasts against the muscular shield that was his chest. 

Pasha yielded, mindlessly desiring White Fang’s commanding way with her. His deep thorough kiss devoured her lips, even as his other hand squeezed, then caressed her ass.
Bast alive! Pasha would never admit it now, but she already felt like his lust slave.
A warning she ignored light-burst inside her mind. He was to be her love captive, help her defeat the black-hearted ninjas who had murdered her friend. Yet, it was she who succumbed.
“Pasha,” he stud-panted against her mouth. His tongue traced her lips, and Pasha flamed with how much he carnally enjoyed the taste and shape of her.
Parting her lips, she sucked his tongue into the hollow of her mouth. After holding his large tongue hostage for moments, and savoring his man wolf taste, Pasha languidly sucked.
Once she gained the upper paw, she rhythmically undulated his tongue.
White Fang clenched her ass possessively, yet didn’t resist the erotic rule of her mouth. Instead, he groaned and fused their lips more tightly.
As his cock jutted with more strength against her belly, Pasha sprang upward. Despite the restriction of her gown, she wrapped her legs around his super-strong thighs. Immediately, he roughly stroked her ass, his hand swiftly sliding over the satin fabric.
Their lips tangled and battled for supremacy then. Pasha pyre-blazed inside, her desire fully unleashed as the carnal plundering of her mouth nearly overwhelmed her senses.
“No,” she tore her lips from his, an unusual fear slicing up her middle like an enemy’s claw.
“Yes,” White Fang pursued. His hand stilled and cupped her ass, and he planted a tender kiss on her forehead.
“The depth of my desire–” Pasha panted losing her words, even as her breasts heaved ridiculously fast. “I wasn’t prepared. I–”
White Fang touched kisses on her face as if he owned the infiniteness of time. With her sweltering pussy tight against the base of his thick cock, Pasha surrendered. She slightly rocked against him. “Super Wolf,” she praised.
His lips trailed along her jaw, a lovely sensual torment. “My beautiful cat woman.” White Fang velvety poured his words inside her ear. “You are the temptress I’ve dreamed about…dreamed about but could never envision as being this desirable, this irresistible…”
His soft desperate groan burned Pasha alive, as if he held her essence within the sacred flame of a temple ceremony. “Words fail,” he whispered against her throbbing pulse. 

He pressed his mouth against her pulse point. The long kiss on her neck sang beautifully through Pasha. Ferocious with need, she whispered, “Yes…yes, own me. Take me to your loins.”
White Fang’s hand deserted her ass, slid over her bared back, then seized the length of her hair. He tugged with lust’s frenzy, his lips seeking the taste of her breasts.
Pasha moaned and arched her back, offering him her aching, begging nipples.


Wishing you love and passion on the wild side …


Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance ~ 


May 27, 2014

Space Opera Comes to Talbot’s Peak by Savanna Kougar

Filed under: Uncategorized — Savanna Kougar @ 3:57 am

Howls and yowls, shapeshifter lovers.

Okay, I was Muse-struck by this sci fi story idea last week. And as usual it began playing in my head like a movie.  So I thought I’d turn it into today’s flash scene. 


Space Opera Comes to Talbot’s Peak

“Jettison escape craft.”

Commander Sarza listened to her final order reverberate through the empty battle cruiser.  On screen she watched ten pods emerge from the belly of her ship, then scatter like a flock of hunted birds — before they cloaked, becoming invisible to the Gray Galactic’s surveillance platform.

The monstrous pyramid lasered frequencies nonstop in this sector of the galaxy, the information instantly available to their war fleet.  However, Commander Sarza owned a decent amount of hope that her devoted crew would be rescued or find their way to rebel-held planetoids.

After star-all, they’d decimated the enemy in this sector. Until now that is. With this defeat not one weapon functioned, all of them drained to uselessness.

“Why are you still onboard?” she demanded, hearing Nherone’s quiet familiar tread.

“Why would I leave you?” he countered, stepping before her, his night-purple eyes glistening with concern.

Sarza rapidly roamed her gaze over his face. Bronze-red, glistening skin stretched over sharp features, and his prominent elf-like ears swivelled toward her. “The others need you. Leave now,” she harshly ordered, knowing it was likely the last time she’d see her paramour, her second in command.

Nherone didn’t argue. Instead, he deferred to her wisdom. After kissing her with his gaze, he spun around and raced for his small fighter jet.

Sarza slumped forward, and for a spec of time, she simply sat in her command chair, her senses dulled. The screeching alarm for the ship’s auto-destruct had long since run its course.

With a mental snap, she straightened fast and refocused as she’d trained herself to do over the long years of battling the Gray Overlords.  So what if she faced particle obliteration, her precious cruiser blown to its eternal rest.

She remained in command to the end.

Yeah, feck the fat brain androids and their evil, withered hearts. With two minutes ticking down, Sarza threw her gaze at the holo-screen. The Gray’s death ring of battle craft advanced at warp speed now.

They knew, and planned to shoot scalar rays in an attempt to halt the Intrepid’s destruction. On an impulse she didn’t understand but respected, Sarza leapt up rushing to the silicon container that held Herman, the new AI she and her crew had liberated from an outpost lab – before he’d been programmed by the Gray Overlords.

As he proved his loyalty, Herman had been allowed more responsibility in running some of the cruiser’s systems. With this final battle, he’d kept them alive and fighting far longer than would have been possible pre his AI assistance. 

The decision had been made to leave Herman behind. Given his unique AI capabilities, they couldn’t afford for the Gray’s AI master-hive to assimilate him.

At her touch, the container whirred open. “Sleep,” Sarza ordered. She scooped the shimmery alabaster egg out, and since Herman was larger than her palm, she pressed him against her chest. “We can go boom together,” she whispered.

“No!” burst past Sarza’s lips in the following moment as she heard the racing paws of her pet drogon, a small dog-dragon breed.  He sprang, and Sarza caught him against her side, their usual athletic game together.

“What are doing here?” she scolded, hysteria welling up at the thought of his death. “You were supposed to be with the rest of the animals. Safe.”

From beneath her arm, Drexi gazed at her, answering with what she called his sweet face.  “Damn the fascists freakazoids,” Sarza muttered, fast-walking toward her command chair.

She sat, placing Drexi on her lap. After cradling Herman in the crook of her arm, Sarza stroked her pet’s silky slick coat. “You were supposed to be safe. I’ve had a long space run. Longer than I ever dreamed possible … I knew the end would come like this … some day.”

Drexi licked her hand in his loving way. One tiny sob broke free, and sadness overwhelmed Sarza.  As the last warning buzz began, her life flashed before her mind’s eye.

Tears dripped from the corner of her eyes slightly blurring her vision as Sarza glanced at the holo-screen. Stunned, she stared, watching an unknown sleek warship streak toward her, ahead of the Gray’s death ring.

White flames of light surrounded Sarza, and unconsciousness claimed her.


Shaky on her feet, Sarza forced her eyes open. About twenty paces away, a tall, broad-shouldered man in a nondescript, skintight uniform stood with his back to her. Hair the color of an Earth puma fell in a thick curtain to his shoulders, and he appeared to be studying something on a com pad, even though he was behind what appeared to be a personal workstation.

Where in the galactic hell was she? This was no Gray prison-interrogation ship. Unless they’d constructed a holo program to deceive her.

Going on the offensive, Sarza demanded in universal vernacular, “Where is my pet?”

The man turned to face her, his manner unhurried. Piercing eyes that reminded her of a clear turquoise sea regarded her, but gave nothing away.

“Where is he?” Sarza took a step forward, discovering she wasn’t exactly steady on her booted feet. Dammit it to the next galaxy, and beyond.

“The animal is being tended in the health ward.” The man’s voice sounded like a low boom, even though he spoke calmly. “I am told he is recovering well.”

“What do you mean recovering well?”

“The beam I used to extract you from your exploding cruiser was designed only for your physical signature, Commander Sarza of the Khy Woden.”

At his words, Sarza glanced down just to make certain she was still fully attired, given some beams stripped away any garment. Except for her array of weaponry, yeah, so far no problem.

“However,” the man continued, his voice even more baritone, “I strengthened the intra-fractional–”

“Got it,” Sarza interrupted. “So where is my AI? And how do you know who I am?”

In that instant, her brain kicked in and Sarza’s eyes widened involuntarily. “The Hunter,” she puffed out, even as all breath fled her body.

Why bother with any pretense? Clearly in her depleted state, there was no way to best him, not now, not mind to mind.

The Hunter grimaced more than smiled. “You can believe me or not, beautiful woman, I have always been allied with your rebel cause.”

“Not the story I hear,” she fired back, her hand grabbing for the plasma sidearm she didn’t have. “I lost two station comrads, two of the best–”

“Two traitors,” he interrupted, his expression grim. “Or, I should say, they’d been targeted by the Sirens, and were about to turn to the dark side. I got to them first.”

“The Sirens,” Sarza murmured. “We’ve lost several to those machine seductresses. Lost cruisers too, because of it.” Narrowing her eyes, Sarza studied The Hunter, who did his wanted holo-poster one better, as far as good looks.

“AI?” he inquired, hiking his dark brows.

What the starhole hell? The Hunter seemed genuine. Yet… this could all be an elaborate deception. Still, her psi-warning system wasn’t blaring at her.

“Herman,” she stated. “Looks like an egg.”

Without answering, The Hunter lowered his gaze, and touched open a compartment on his workstation.  “Herman?” he asked, holding out her AI, who fit neatly inside his palm.

Sarza found her tongue, saying, “That’s him.”

She tried another step forward, but whooziness stopped her. Resisting the urge to clap her hand to her forehead, Sarza stood still, willing herself to keep her gaze locked on him.

“It will pass,” The Hunter assured. He moved around the workstation with the latent power of a big cat species. “The temporary affect of the specialized beam,” he explained.

In what appeared to be a gesture of good faith, he handed Herman to her.  Sarza clutched the AI close, and felt the slight throb of recognition. Even so, she kept her gaze targeted on The Hunter.

“Is the AI why you survived long enough for me to arrive?” he asked. His gaze hard as diamond-infused steel sought to see through her every atom. Yet, she noticed, the warmth of humaness flared within.

“One reason,” she conceded. “Where are we headed? The Grays have to know you betrayed them.”

Half a smile lightened his boldly formed features. “They figured that out several star months ago. I had the element of surprise on my side when my crew broke through the death ring.  However,” The Hunter pivoted from her striding toward what Sarza recognized as a food station, “I have contingency plans. We’re headed toward Earth.”

“Earth! … why? Every space bad ass and his scavenger mother is there.”

“Not in Talbot’s Peak. At least, not at the Pleasure Club. It’s an underground fortress, and there’s an ancient tunnel system that will conceal my ship.”

Mentally rocked back on her heels, Sarza uttered, “I hope so … Pleasure Club?”


Wishing you love and passion on the wild side …


Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance ~ 

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