ShapeShifter Kisses

April 24, 2013

Talbot’s Peak Garden of Eden by Savanna Kougar

Wednesday kisses, shapeshifter lovers.

Today I thought I’d share the flash scene I penned for Earth Day blog hop that we authors at SHAPESHIFTER SEDUCTIONS took part in this past weekend. Come on by if you’d like to read the other flash scenes by Solara Gordon, Serena Shay, and Pat Cunningham.

Talbot’s Peak Garden of Eden
by Savanna Kougar

Syressa glided down the rainbow bridge. With a point of her finger, she’d magickally created the fifth dimensional bridge. Light as a feather, she whizzed from her home deep in the forest — a bungalow she’d crafted from native stone, and other natural earth materials.

With a jarring thump, she landed on one foot behind Talbot’s Peak’s garden center. Once again, she’d gotten carried away with the sheer exhilaration of riding her rainbow.

Quickly Syressa righted herself, chuckling at her clumsiness. She disappeared her diaphanous wings fast. They’d popped out to help her keep her balance.

Yeah, yeah, the shapeshifter town was full of supernatural folk. But many still-in-the-dark humans roamed about, and she was not without enemies. Those black-soul sorcerers who hunted her kind, captured them, then cruelly, slowly drained away their fae powers.

Sensing for any disturbance in the wacky-wild force that was the Peak, Syressa glanced around. She always remained on guard when visiting any populated area.

The changeling hunters, often hired by the dark-side sorcerers, diffused their distinctive energy signatures by using the auras of the unsuspecting. Syressa shivered at the very thought of being forced to supercharge foul, life-murdering spells. This was an evil she simply didn’t, couldn’t understand.

“All clear,” she murmured to herself. The midmorning sun sang golden rays through her as she adjusted her large canvass shoulder bag, and Syressa mentally sent a kiss to Sol’s cheek.

“Let me guess,” Laurie gave her welcoming grin, “you’re here for more seeds.”

Syressa nodded, then smiled. “This is the best, most wonderful garden center around.”

“It’s the only one.” Laurie laughed, and moved from behind the checkout counter. “Guess what I have for you.” She headed for her storeroom, motioning Syressa to follow her. “Since you always want my oldest seeds, I had a *turn in your old seeds for fresh seeds* sale. You know, folks are always buying with the idea of planting, and they don’t always follow through.”

“Perfect,” Syressa enthused, already feeling the seeds calling to her. “How thoughtful of you, Laurie.”

“Oh, I dunno. You’re my best customer.” Laurie plucked a stuffed store bag off the shelf. Turning, she placed it inside Syressa’s bag once she’d lifted the flap.

“Besides,” Laurie continued, “I like the idea of every seed having a second chance to grow. And with your amazing green thumb, Syressa, like you’ve said, we’re planting our own Garden of Eden here in the Peak area.”

“I can’t wait to start spreading these, giving them a home in the Earth.” Syressa patted her bag, infusing the vegetable, fruit, herb, and flower seeds with her green-light energy.

“Me and Digger are rallying the rabbit troops. Surprising how a wolf shifter and rabbit shifters can become such good buddies. Sure, he shared his garden goodies with them, and they helped out. But, Digger’s actually developed a real fondness for his bunny buds, as he calls them.”

Laurie moved toward the back of the storeroom. “Since Digger has extra seeds saved from last year’s garden, we’re going to plant them on every empty plot in town.”

“That will be a good garden of eatin’.” Syressa tingled, elation sparkling her insides. She glanced around to make certain no sparkles had escaped, and she wasn’t leaving a glittery trail. “Let me know when, and I’ll spread the love, as they say.”

“Absolutely.” Laurie bent over, pulling the special-delivery box toward her. “You might have to spread a lot of that green-thumb love around. We’re hoping to inspire others, get them in the mood to plant gardens. Already got Mayor Gil on board. Promised to plant more nut-bearing trees. Him being a squirrel shifter and all.”

Joy burst through Syressa as she envisioned abundant, sunshine-bright gardens everywhere. She smiled knowing everyone would be well fed from the food they grew — well nourished by the sacred energies of sun, water, wind, and Mother Earth — that which divinely created each plant.

About to float off the floor from her musings, she heard the bell on the front door announce another customer.

“Be right back.” Laurie raised up from opening the box. “Help yourself. We’ll settle the bill later.”

Kneeling, Syressa eagerly dived in. One by one, she pulled out the pound-sized packages of seeds. She and Laurie had discovered the cottage business online, and after speaking with the generational, organic-farm family, they’d placed the order for the wild plants native to their Montana area.

“Born free,” Syressa sang in a whisper, as images flowed before her mind’s eye of where she planned to ‘free’ the seeds. Then, as she’d walked the land, or rode astride her golden ram, she’d watch them burst into life, feel their green shoots seek the sunlight.

So immersed in selecting her seeds, Syressa didn’t hear the man’s footsteps. At first.

She whirled on her haunches. Her inner wolfess prepared to launch upward. Syressa shot her palm toward him, ready to flashfire her magick bullets. 

“Whoa there.”  The tall lanky man halted in his tracks, and raised his hands in mock surrender. “Pardon, little lady. Miss Laurie sent me back here.”

Realizing, he wasn’t a threat, Syressa lowered her hand. A grin shadowed his tough as rawhide features, and she caught the glint of amusement in his eyes. Silver-gray eyes that were so sharp they could cut a foe down to size in no time.

“Friends?” he asked in his rough and tumble, manly voice, even as he tipped his dark gray Stetson.

“Depends.” Syressa raised upward, her movement reflecting her wolfess. Warily, she sniffed. Her beast side wasn’t letting go until she knew the full score.

“Where are my manners?” he drawled like an old-west gentleman. “Drogan. My first name. Drogan Vann.”

He extended his hand, a peace offering by her eye. A moment passed as she stood her ground, and they full-on assessed each other.

“Syressa is my name. I’m afraid my hands are off limits. A psychic thing,” she added, as he raised his black silver-tipped eyebrows.

She firmed her jaw, and raised her chin, daring him to ridicule her sixth sense.

“You got some pair of flashing beautiful eyes, Miss Syressa.”

Thrown off a bit by his sincere praise, Syressa un-tensed her posture. “Why did Laurie send you back here?”

He rested his hand on the butt of his sidearm, his manner easy as a real live gunslinger. Although, he wasn’t a young gun type. No, not by any means. He was the all-too-sexy, mature type with silver sideburns.

The wolfess yipped her appreciation, and Syressa wondered if his inner wolf heard.  She psi-listened, but no answer howled inside her.

Without indicating he knew about her shapeshifter side, Drogan offered a ‘let’s be friends’ grin. “Laurie was sayin’ you could give me some sound advice. I’m up from Texas. Just bought a spread south of town. And I’m lookin’ to turn it natural.”

“Natural? Wildflowers, prairie grass, berries?” On her territory now, Syressa relaxed her guard.

“I’ll take all of the above,” he drawled nice and easy, yet truth lived in his words. “The land’s been over grazed so I figured the best thing to do was let Mother Nature take over. Trouble is, I ain’t no expert.”

“So, you came to the garden center? Why not do that cyber web search thing?” She eyed him directly just for good measure.

“Not much of a computer man.” He casually hooked his thumb on his plain leather gun belt, while running his gaze over her, real subtle like. “Like ridin’ the ranch better. The other evening, I met Digger at Rattigan’s, and he said to talk with his gal, Laurie.”

“Over grazed.” Syressa tapped her chin. Ideas rapid-fired through her head, and her heart winged at the thought of resurrecting the land. “Now’s a good time to sow some of the seeds. Although some like being in the ground during winter first. I suppose we could find out if it works for both of our schedules… if so, yeah, I’ll help you out.”

“I’ll make my schedule work, Miss Syressa. I got time. Nothing to do but make the acquaintances of the good folk in town, and take care of the ranch. Got a few head of horses and cattle, and a few other critters. That’s it.”

The psi-vision felt as if it smacked her forehead. A wolf pack running  in the moonlight, racing over the wide open land, their spirits fierce and free. It was his pack.

“Family, I assume.” Syressa lifted a brow.

“How about I treat you to lunch, and we’ll talk.” He hadn’t missed a beat. “One of those organic places, if you like.”

Stunned at some undefinable level, Syressa didn’t answer. She couldn’t speak, for some reason that eluded her. “Seeds,” she murmured a moment later, and glanced over her shoulder.

“Of course, I interrupted. Why don’t I give you a hand with those? Then we’ll get a bite to eat.”

He sauntered past her with long strides that did wicked twinkly things to her insides.  Nonplussed by his presence, her head reeling, Syressa managed to spin around.

With her gaze captured by his broad shoulders, his trim waist, and his extra fine butt meant for riding in a saddle, she watched him hunker down next to the box.

“You can start educatin’ me right now.”  He winked, but his expression remained serious, as in he really did want to know.

“You sure do want your land renewed… don’t you?” Kinda of a silly thing to say, Syressa knew, given it was obvious now, he wanted more than that. She smelled his mating lust.

But truth to tell Shining One Moon, she didn’t have all that much experience with men. Most avoided her like the plague, instinctively knowing she could destroy them at will. Not that she’d had to, except on rare occasions.

“I want a lot of things ‘renewed’, Miss Syressa. It’s why I left Texas to join up with this shapeshifter community. Join up with Dante and his posse.”

“Are you related to Dante?” Syressa felt her feet move of their own volition, and before she knew it she’d lowered herself beside him.

“Quite a few generations back, but yep. More important, we’re ropin’ the same goals.”

She knew he did it to put her at ease… sweeping his Stetson off, picking up one of the seed packages.

“I’m not exactly a shapeshifter… only a shifter, that is.”

“Figured. You’re too sparkly and way too cute… Miss Syressa. Now don’t you worry I’ll be real gentle, the way I court you. Until you want more, that is.”

His gaze reflected his words, silvery brilliant, deep as the lake she loved to swim in, and only for her.   Yes, only for her.



~ Have a Magickal and Miraculous Week ~ Savanna

Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance ~


Originally posted at SHAPESHIFTER SEDUCTIONS ~ Turning Into Your Wildest Desire

April 17, 2013

Revising Red Lioness & Busterballs by Savanna Kougar


Wednesday kisses, shapeshifter lovers.

A somber time in the aftermath of the Boston Marathon tragedy. If I weren’t so exhausted from a very long day with way too little sleep, I would let my tigress heroine, Kytaira, exact  her brand of claw-ripping justice against those who would slaughter innocents. As it is I can only offer my heartfelt blessings to all involved.

That said, on a brighter note, this coming Friday, April 19th through Sunday, April 21st, we ShapeShifter Seductions authors are participating in an Earth Day blog hop ~ Love a Tree, Read an Ebook.

Join us, and a bevy of other exceptional authors, for a hopping extravaganza of fun, flashes, and prizes. Our ebooks will tempt you, tease you, and then please you.

Also, like Pat I’m suffering from blank-mind syndrome, and I have another over-long day ahead of me, so… what to do? I’ve got to hit the sackeroo.

Okay, currently I’m revising RED LIONESS TAMED, my sci fi shapeshifter erotic romance. I plan to republish it as an Indie. Here’s the first six paragraphs.

Red Lioness Tamed

Adventures of Sun Rocket, Book 1

Chapter One:
Sun Rocket and Draxen

Year 3051, according to the relic Earth calendar preserved on Terra-Mars

“Frax! My brain feels like it’s been spun out of cobwebs.” Sun Rocket squeezed her eyelids open and shut several times. Anything to clear her head.

Aware she lay on a hard metallic surface, Sun Rocket slightly altered her position. After blowing out a large breath, she attempted to open her eyes.

“Frax it to the sun! More cobwebs,” she angrily complained.

Pressing her hand over her eyes, Sun Rocket sniffed carefully. Sterile, her surroundings, except for harmless micro dust–except for her–about half a day away from a bath or a good tongue licking.

Experimentally she shoved with her foot. Half her usual body weight. She was probably inside some cargo hold, orbiting or…

Cargo hold. What the–? Sun Rocket shot up to a sitting position. Her head spun at some undefined warp speed.

As well, here’s a flash scene I wrote for fun after publishing Red Lioness Tamed. It takes place prior to the story, and is a bit rough around the edges. Yep, polishing needed… but, what the heck… hope you enjoy. 

The Capture of BusterBalls

With her heightened senses devoted to capturing her prey, Sun Rocket didn’t bother counting all the rainbows in the Uquenxia sky. The blaze-stained colors gently arched, one above the other, and hung as if a permanent feature of the small planet. “Meow and heart-stopping wow,” she whispered for her own benefit.

Uquenxia, the fourth in orbit around a twin suns’ solar system, was a jungle paradise with an atmosphere friendly to her kind. Even the dark-skinned, pole-tall residents were friendly to her cat shifter race, unusual for a galactic world. Which made it all the more imperative to track down BusterBalls, a cat shifter gone rogue.

Allowing the amazing display to envelop her, she sniffed for the Tiger-Himalayan hybrid, who thought he was Bast’s mating gift to every woman he found carnal delectable.

“Stinking balls ass,” Sun Rocket derided, scenting him. Sauntering lazily to avoid suspicion, she followed the tiny thread of odor, even though the jungle’s thick blooming fragrances surrounded her like fog and saturated her skin.

The fact that the woman BusterBalls stalked to seduce, may already be mated or with another male, rarely deterred the sly conceited cat. So named because his favorite method of getting rid of the competition–waiting with extreme patience, sneaking up on the unfortunate male, then using his massive tiger-strong jaws to crunch the rival’s testicles.

Sun Rocket winced, recalling the bloody messy visuals she’d been shown. BusterBalls didn’t possess an iota of mercy, his human side lost to his mating nature.

Aware of several creatures eyeing her as prey in this world of giant-sized animal life, Sun Rocket strolled toward an open air cantina, a chic establishment located beneath a semi-circle of enormous palm trees. She waved a friendly hand in the local style at the curious seated couples, while pretending not to notice the frank over-heated stares of two men.

An instant later her nose wrinkled in reaction to the stench of BusterBalls’ rut. Meow-yowl about a bad fish market. He’d been in the cantina recently, within half of Uquenxia’s bright long day.

Staying on the hard-packed path through the edge of the tropical jungle, Sun Rocket shifted with ease into her lioness woman form, since no one observed her, and she was on the hunt. As she chased her prey down, she became Kahoqua, her feline name. Her running strides silent and swift, despite her tourist-casual sandals, she closed in on the raunchy fucker.

Fierce, intent on ridding the intergalactic community of a bad cat shifter, she nearly rammed into a Uquenxian man who frantically hopped in agony, while holding onto his testicles. With primitive reflexes, Kahoqua jumped to the side, and raced on, knowing she couldn’t help him. Roar to hell! Catching the ball-chomping beast would save other males in the future.

Hearing the rapid moans of a woman being pleasured, Kahoqua leapt upwards into a spin, then charged in that direction. In moments, BusterBall’s mating odor competed with every jungle smell, a stink up to the suns. Once she heard his caterwauling lust, Kahoqua slowed her pace. Spying a tidy domicile, shaped to shed the frequent rainshowers, she stealthily crept forward.

Flicking her ears, she searched for his exact location. His humping smell was like a heavy mist diffusing her ability to sniff him out. Stepping behind an huge tree with smooth bark, she listened to BusterBall’s rhythmic grunts before peering around the trunk. In the filtered sunlight, his butt blatantly gleamed with striped pale tan fur. His yellow-fur balls swung like fat bulbous pouches as he plowed back and forth into the woman’s sheath. He’d only partially shifted, and was without his tail.

Kahoqua pressed against the trunk, her eyes clenched shut. Damn, the slippery trout of fate. She couldn’t bring herself to interrupt, since the woman seemed to be actually enjoying herself. And scrape hell with her claws, she wasn’t watching BusterBall’s ugly balls bounce as he fucked. Prepared to pounce, she listened for the woman’s final pleasure.

Once the woman’s cries of ecstasy joined with BusterBall’s rutting growls, Kahoqua peeked around the trunk while unsheathing her attack claws. Swinging back and forth with each vigorous thrust, the woman lay on a large hammock sideways, her dark lean limbs spread apart in a large V.

Bast, thank you. BusterBall’s testicles were hitched up tightly, ready to explode. He launched his loins forward, groaning his orgasm. Kahoqua sprang as he tiger-screamed his orgasm, the TestesTaze loop in one hand. Reaching him as he fell over the woman, she snaked her hand toward the front of his throat, and sank her claws into his fur and thick flesh.

Hauling him backwards by his throat, Kahoqua used the momentum of his weight to slide his cock out of the woman. Gripping the back of his neck with her fangs, she flung her body’s much smaller weight against his back. Unprepared for the attack and sex-depleted, BusterBalls sprawled through the air, then smacked onto the jungle floor, while the woman shrieked in fear.

Before he could whip around and savagely claw her, Kahoqua seized the slimy flesh of his sack above his balls. Her fingers squeezed into a vise. She jerked hard, sprang and straddled his back. He roared furiously as she clamped the TestesTaze loop where her fingers had been.

“Gotcha, ya bad kitty shifter,” Kahoqua growled.

“No!” the woman shouted in her tongue, her desperation obvious to Kahoqua’s ear. “Love. Love.”

“Love?” Kahoqua snarled toward BusterBalls slack ear. He didn’t move a big cat muscle knowing that excruciating pain would wrack his entire body from the Taze ring if he did.

“No, love,” the woman continued. She rattled off a lengthy explanation of how she and BusterBalls had come to know one another, care for one another, and had finally fallen passionately in love.

“Understand, understand.” Kahoqua waved a hand to halt her when she finally inhaled a large breath. “Tell me, who is the man with the crunched balls?”

“Her brother,” BusterBalls croaked in a growl.

“He was here to force me to marry another.”

Kahoqua rolled her eyes, and yowled a sigh. She couldn’t disbelieve. The woman was much too sincere. Plus the stars, her own lie detecting intuition didn’t wail a warning. “Holy catfish damn,” she muttered.

Plopping her bottom down on the middle of BusterBalls brawny back, her tail slashing back and forth, she tried to think of a solution. “He’s been a very bad boy.” Eyeing the woman, she asked, “Do you understand?”

“I told her,” BusterBalls croaked again.

“Yes, he confessed his bad ways.” The woman’s heart shone in her eyes, along with a ray of hope.

“Yeah, I’ll bet the shrimp farm on that one.” Kahoqua growled a long sigh, listening to her own heart. “Here’s my offer. I can adjust the Taze ring to be comfortable and activate only if ‘he’…” she cast her glance down at BusterBalls, “leaves your world.”

The woman smiled brilliantly, nodded, then fell to her knees beside BusterBall’s head, and stroked him tenderly.

“BusterBalls?” Kahoqua let her voice drip with fur-stripping acid.

“Yes,” he simply spoke, somewhere between a purr and a groan of pain.

“Yeah, love…ain’t it grand as the galaxy,” Kahoqua crooned. Rising, she efficiently adjusted the TestesTaze. “You know what happens if I have to hunt you down again,” she threatened with her talking growl. And with the whipping slash of her tail.

“I know,” he grrr-ed. Ever so slowly he turned over on his back. His belly exposed, his cock sheathed, he offered no challenge.

“No more happy fucking balls if you leave Uquenxia, remember that.” Kahoqua  pivoted, her own heart hoping for the best. Gazing over her shoulder, she added, “Be happy.”




~ Have a Magickal and Miraculous Week ~ Savanna

Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance ~


Originally posted at SHAPESHIFTER SEDUCTIONS ~ Turning Into Your Wildest Desire

April 10, 2013

Wanted Immediately: A bride. Must love cats, dogs, and dragons. by Savanna Kougar

New Moon kisses, shapeshifter lovers.

Happy upcoming New Moon in Aries on April 10th. Get your motor running on those projects you want to begin, or a project you want to put into high gear. Now is the time.

Some good authorly news. HER MIDNIGHT STARDUST COWBOYS received a 5-star reader review at All Romance Ebooks. Wahoo! If you’d like to check out a couple of excerpts, just click on my page above.

This week’s flash scene is Muse-lovingly inspired, but certainly not complete. Still, I hope you enjoy.   

Wanted Immediately: A bride. Must love cats, dogs, and dragons.

Kiala settled herself, and raised the steamy, raspberry latte to her mouth. Figuring to amuse herself, she shook open the latest edition of the G&B Gazette left by the previous occupier of the table.

After a satisfying sip of the hot sumptuous brew, Kiala scanned the articles, then immersed herself in the latest and greatest news. “What happened to White Fang’s usual byline?” she murmured to herself.

“What the…” she muttered minutes later. “Why is Leona Lane now Leona Sanchez?” Puzzled, she knitted her brow, and shook her head briefly. “Whatever.”

“Is there a problem?” Marissa asked, on her way from serving another table.

“No. Thanks for asking, though. Just changes in the paper,” Kiala added to explain.

“Yeah, I noticed. I hear there’s a betting pool at Rattigans over what White Fang’s handle is going to be.”

Kiala grinned at that, yet didn’t understand why the ace crime reporter had decided to change his name. Oh well, she’d find out eventually.

“Croissants today?” Marissa asked.

“Absolutely. And one of your blueberry muffins, please.”

With a nod the blue-haired owner of the coffee shop departed, and Kiala heard her  motherly shout at Thor and Loki. The following crash of dishes clued her in, but by the sound there’d only been a few. This time.

Smiling at the homey event, Kiala stretched her legs, able to move normally again. While exploring a “Land Time Forgot” plateau in South America, as her leopard self, she’d been severely mauled by several small dinosaurs.

She’d needed a place to recuperate. So, about a year ago, Kiala had scoped out the shapeshifter town of Talbot’s Peak. Using the money she’d put away for the proverbial rainy day, she’d made the move, and laid low.

A cadre of enemies stalked her even now, given the wealth of knowledge she’d gathered from her various explorations. Her benefactors, those who funded her adventures, and gained bigtime by her discoveries, had made certain she’d been well taken care of, initially. Very well taken care of.

However, Kiala had cut her ties with her benefactors. At least, for the time being. She could too easily be traced.

Sipping her latte, Kiala flipped to the personal ads, always good for a giggle, even a rib-tickling laugh. Her eyes popped wide as she read…

Wanted Immediately: A bride. Must love cats, dogs, and dragons. Humans need not apply.

After staring for several moments, her latte held at half-mast, she uttered quietly, “Is this serious?”

Right, then… stranger things had happened in this supernatural bestiary community, as she thought of it. That is, if Kiala could believe half of what she’d been told. And, not to mention all the rumors swirling madly and merrily about.

But, yowls! Yes, there was a valid contact number.

And, bride… it dawned on Kiala, she was due to come in heat within a couple of weeks. Instead of clawing and climbing the walls, instead of flattening her ears against her needy screams… she could be… well, mating, being mated.

With a toss of her shoulder-length hair, Kiala decided to amuse herself. “Love cats, of course,” she whispered. “Dogs, only if they ‘come’ when called. And dragons… well, I’ve known a few sexy fire-snorters.”

Kiala automatically drank the last swallow of her latte, and placed the cup on the table. “And, hey, the good news, I’m not exactly human… am I?”

“Why is that good news?” Loki asked, as he set the plate of bakery yummies before her.

Snapping her gaze around to the young wolf shifter, Kiala tilted her head, and quipped, “Because according to this ad, humans need not apply.”

“That’s right,” a bold baritone voice from the coffee shop’s doorway addressed her. 

Kiala allowed her gaze to prey on the tall, warrior male now approaching her. Cat shapeshifter, her nose told her. Yet, his breed was not of this Earth.

According to his scent, the closest species would be an ancestor of the Puma, still alive in small groups across the planet — as she’d sighted for herself.

“Miss…?” he rumbled politely. His eyes blazed through her, and Kiala thought of the supernaturally bright amber she’d discovered in an ancient storage cavern.

“You are?” she returned, remembering to make her tongue work. Damn, if she had to keep looking up at him, she’d get a permanent crook in her neck.

“Dhurkon,” he paused, “of the Triad Protectorate.”

“Protectorate,” she slowly repeated. “What does that mean? It sounds official.” Kiala waved her hand. “Please, have a seat.”

Almost faster than she could blink, Dhurkon lowered himself, taking possession of the chair opposite her. “Yes, it is an official title, beautiful leopardess woman. However, these days it is a remnant of my past.”

His eyes glinted as his mouth curved in a small smile. “May I know your name?”

So, he knew her kind. Not surprising, given his ultra keen senses, and the sharp intelligence she witnessed in his eyes.

“Kiala,” she offered, even as his hand reached for hers.

Embraced, that was the only description she could think of, as he wrapped her hand with his, and held.

“I’m assuming this is your personal ad. I mean, ‘humans need not apply’.”

He didn’t let go, and Kiala didn’t try to withdraw her ‘swooning’ hand.

“Yes, my ad. I will assume you are not married, or mated.”

“No,” the word burst out. “Must love cats, dogs, and dragons.” Kiala raised her brows in question.

“Do you?” His tone gently teased. Yet the undercurrent could have dragged a whale down to the ocean depths.

Well, two could play this game, Kiala decided. “Love as in loving animals? Or, love as in loving shapeshifter cats, dogs, and dragons?”

“I believe…” His gaze roved over her face, and he seemed to drink of her very essence. “…we are about to find out, my leopardess.” 



~ Have a Magickal and Miraculous Week ~ Savanna

Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance ~


Originally posted at SHAPESHIFTER SEDUCTIONS ~ Turning Into Your Wildest Desire

April 3, 2013

Don’t step on White Fang’s cape… by Savanna Kougar

Howls and yowls and kisses, shapeshifter lovers.

I’ve been putting together a cast list of all my Talbot’s Peak characters. No easy feat I discovered. I did have a names’ list of my heroines and heroes to start with, one that I began awhile back for the sake of not duplicating names, but it was nowhere complete. Yep, there were big ole gaps.

So, as I described at my blog, Kougar Kisses, the project turned into a sort-of Medusa like operation as I began searching through all of my prior flash-scene posts. Oh, I had my main characters, and last year’s heroines and heroes all lined up… but, dang, three days of intense work, and I’m still not completely finished. Close, but no cigar… as they say.

One dilemma I’ve come face to face with is this whole BIG BULLY MEDIA copyright/trademark thing going on, whereupon one innocent infraction could get you unmercifully pounced on, and devoured by the legal system. I won’t expound any further on that now.

Suffice it say, I’m faced with changing my super wolf’s name from White Fang Kent to White Fang [something else]… because, hey, it too closely resembles Super Man’s alter ego, Clark Kent. But, damn, if I can come up with suitable alternative.

Thus, today’s flash scene…

Don’t step on White Fang’s cape…

White Fang snuck a peek inside Nick’s office before entering, instinctive since the smell of Ziva and Nick’s recent mating romp still hung heavy in the air. That, and the odor of heated wood.

Grinning to himself, White Fang pushed open the door. “Boss, what’s on your mind?”

“Have a seat, ace reporter.”

The werewolf alpha editor of the Guts and Butts Gazette snarled the words, his tone absent of any snideness however. He waved an impatient hand toward the chair, then swiped his hair as if he carried the weight of the world on his broad shoulders. Certainly, he carried the weight and well-being of Talbot’s Peak on his shoulders.

White Fang perched on the sturdy wooden chair, a relic of a forties newsroom, and leaned forward. “I’m seated,” he prompted. “Looks like you got a case of fleas, boss. Couldn’t be you’re about to get on my case. I just turned in my latest story.”

“Yeah-yeah, has nothing to do with your job performance. Outstanding as normal. Got quite a devoted following, Kent.” Nick folded his hands behind his head, and square-eyed him. “But, I’ll save us a dance around each other, and get down to brass tacks.”

“You’re not my type as a dance partner,” White Fang drily quipped, and kept his smile to himself.

“Why would I be?” Nick snapped. “That cat shifter femme fatale of yours has more curves than Route 66.” Nick scowled, and lifted his lip.


“Take off those damn glasses, will ya? And don’t raise your eyebrows at me like I got a story you can pry outta me, Kent… another life, another time. Enough said.”

“Got it, boss.” White Fang slipped his horn-rimmed glasses off, pocketing them. “May I assume you didn’t call me in here to hand out a plum assignment?”

“Nope.” Nick rocked forward, his gaze serious as if prey crossed his path. “We all know around here, you’re some sort of super wolf.”

White Fang hesitated only a moment. “Right, then, it’s on the table. No use trying to keep my true identity a secret in this ‘where the shapeshifter world turns’ town. Except from the humans, of course.”

“Yeah, the humans. And those who keep their noses buried in their butt holes. Besides,” Nick continued in a surly voice, “using the name, Kent, is a dead giveaway…doncha think?”

“A tip of the reporter’s fedora to Clark Kent, and admittedly, a private amusement on my part. Didn’t hurt as a byline either, with my past newspaper gigs.”

White Fang flashed a toothy grin just to dig into Nick’s hide a bit. The name had garnered him much needed attention as a virgin reporter on the scene. Then, his investigative journalism into crime had done the rest, elevating his readership faster than a speeding bullet.

“Yeah-yeah, dug into your past. You got the best credentials I ever seen, uh… Kent. Gotta quit calling you that. Scat.” Nick twisted, and leaped from his chair, not disguising his werewolf strength and speed.

“Look,” he growled, pacing behind his desk. “It’s a copyright or trademark thing. Hate those scat-bloated corporate… never mind. The point is I can’t afford trouble…” Nick let his words hang, even as he whirled around, his gaze pinning White Fang.

Ignoring the alpha glint in the werewolf’s eyes, White Fang eased himself from the chair, and stood asserting his own dominant nature. After a moment, he delivered his words in a calm measured tone. “You want me to change my byline. Right?”

“It’s not your real handle… why not?” Nick’s eyes yellowed to feral, his frustration driving him.

White Fang didn’t bother with what would be an obvious answer. He let his steely silence do the talking.

Nick growled, an abrupt harsh sound. He spun around, stalking to his office window. “I got that pea-parrot assistant of mine poking my ass… reminding me every friggin’ day we could get sued. Worse, Talbot’s Peak doesn’t need this kind of national spotlight.”

White Fang absorbed Nick’s words, while weighing his options. Circumstances demanded he remain in Talbot’s Peak. Not only for the sake of his wolfkind, but to continue protecting those he’d come to care for in this haven for shifters and other supernaturals.

He certainly wasn’t leaving without Pasha by his side, and he’d allied himself with Dante. That was not a promise he took lightly, despite the understanding between them that the future could alter their arrangement.

White Fang growled silently. “Right, boss. We don’t need a barking army of legal beagles.”

The tenseness of Nick’s stance lessened, and he glanced over his shoulder. “Got an idea what name you want to use instead?”

His usual quickness of thought deserted him, and White Fang possessed not a clue what byline would keep his global readership. Of course, he could explain a change to his Peak readers easy enough.

“No, nothing comes to mind,” he rumbled, even as he realized he’d become quite fond of the earth name, White Fang Kent — especially the way Pasha sultry-purred it during their intimate times together.

“Any suggestions, boss?” White Fang arched his brows in the way he knew put a burr under Nick’s tail.

“Go to the library,” Nick groused. “Look in one of those baby names books. Or, hell, go surfing on the world wide web.”

“I’ll grab a telephone book on the way out. More private. No nano spy cameras inside those yet.”

After a growly harumph and sharp intake of breath, Nick faced White Fang. “Sorry, ex-Kent. You know how the bitten ball bounces.”

“Your balls are going to bounce, lover, after I fang them,” Ziva shouted through the door. “You forgot our appointment.”

“Leaving.” White Fang smirked, then pivoted toward the door.

“I need that name by tomorrow,” Nick threw after him.

“Don’t step on White Fang’s cape… boss.”

After a polite nod to Ziva, White Fang strode for the outside door. He couldn’t miss the large phone book Penelope, the pea-parrot dominatrix, held out to him. Nor could he miss her all-knowing smile.

“I wouldn’t mind stepping on your cape… no, not at all,” she throatily crooned as he took hold of the phone book.


~ Have a Magickal and Miraculous Week ~ Savanna

Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance ~

Originally posted at SHAPESHIFTER SEDUCTIONS ~ Turning Into Your Wildest Desire

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