ShapeShifter Kisses

March 28, 2014

The Furious Filly by Savanna Kougar



Springtime howls and yowls, shapeshifter lovers.

My original flash scene idea had to be nixed, so here’s one I hope you’ll enjoy.


The Furious Filly

Kassanna screamed a whinny, lowered her head, and charged. Oh hell yeah, she scented the whoring bastard in the biker bar – as she’d been told by a girlfriend.

Fury blazed her blood. Her tail flashed as she raced along the dark forest trail toward the isolated den of iniquity.

Chad, the sleazy stud, had charmed her like a champion. But he’d chosen the wrong filly to cheat on.

Enraged past bearing, Kassanna slid to a halt when she spied the cheater’s familiar motorcycle lined up with the rest of the chrome machine horses. Scenes of she and Chad speeding over the highways, her arms wrapped tightly around him, tormented her.

At the time, their fun together had been outrageous, wonderful. Love filled her life.

Now… Kassanna bucked high, and aimed her bared teeth at the bike’s back tire. Chomping down, she jerked hard, pulling the motorcycle out of line.

Kassanna half-reared, knocking the bike over with her pounding hooves. STOMP, HOP, STOMP, HOP, STOMP! Mangled metal knifed the tires.

Whirling, she charged the bar’s door. Fueled by rage, Kassanna spun around, and lashed out with her back hooves. The crack, the splintering of the thick wood felt more than satisfying.

“Wait!” someone shouted, someone who smelled like a wolf. “I’m opening the door.”

Kassanna shrilled a whinny as she rushed inside. Blowing through her nostrils, she smelled her now ex-fiancee. Hell yeah! Hoof-stomping time. There the stud-rat fink stood in the far corner, quickly detaching himself from the floozy he’d been oozing charm all over… probably nibbling her neck, kissing her ear seductively… just like…

More fury blasted through her veins. Kassanna flattened her ears and pawed the wooden floor. Her muscles bunched, and as if she channeled a demoness, she leaped toward Chad, who was mouthing something and waving his arms like she was a maddened bull he could divert.

“Get out of the way!” someone screamed. “Shit, she’s comin’ through.” … “What the fuck did you do, Chad?”

Kassanna barely heard the mad scramble, the scrape of chairs and tables being dragged out of her way as she trotted like a puma on the hunt. “No, no… it ain’t what it looks like. I swear. I swear, apple cheeks.”

Apple cheeks! How dare the son of a sway-backed stud. Kassanna bared her teeth preparing to rip chunks out of his no-good hide.

“It’s you I love,” Chad pathetically cried out before launching himself among the other patrons. They deserted him as Kassanna pursued, heedless of anything in her way.

Chad crashed from chair to chair like a billiard ball. He flung himself onto a table and crawled like his ass was on fire.

Target attained. With a wicked, mental grimace, Kassanna snaked her neck and nipped his butt cheek hard. Chad hollered like a cry baby, as she crunched down on his other ass cheek. Twisting ruthlessly, Kassanna tore his denims.

Her prize, a hunk of his flesh came along with the fabric. Flinging it aside, Kassanna attacked again, leaving her teeth prints on his ass.

“Shit! Someone stop her,” Chad screamed. He crawled like a sprayed cockroach onto another table top, his bare bloodied butt exposed.

“You made your bed,” a growly voice philosophically tossed.

“You done her wrong,” a woman’s voice condemned. “Go git him, girl.”

Spurred by sheer terror, Chad gained the floor and ran for the door. Kassanna had never seen him move so fast, not even in his horse form. Pursuing, she watched him stumble at the threshold as he whipped around, trying to shut the door against her. No one had bothered closing it.

Chad gave up as she smacked the door with her shoulder, before he could even get it fully closed. The bastard betrayer dashed into the darkness.

“OH MY GAWD! Shit, my bike! What did you do… you, you bitch… FUCK! You, you..ruined it.” Chad neighed a scream, his shift underway.

‘Yeah, buddy,’ she mentally bit him, ‘and I’ll do it again. You ass wipe.’

With her fury subsiding, somewhat, Kassanna halted in her hoof prints. With a filly’s pride, she watched the bitch-whipped stud gallop into the depths of the forest like the hounds of hell were on his hooves. Better than her hooves, she thought. She’d be a she-devil on his trail forever. Chad was one lucky son of a stud Kassanna had decided his stinging hindquarters and a headlong crashing run through the dark of night was enough punishment. For now.

“Darlin’, that was the best entertainment I’ve had in a long, long while,” a rough-hewn voice twanged behind Kassanna. “You sure are a spirited little thing, ain’t you?”

Curiosity got the better of her, and Kassanna slowly spun around. The tall, lanky man dressed like a working cowboy out on the town, didn’t approach. Obviously, he knew better. His stance showed he knew how to handle a distraught horse.

“Yep, that was some show. Now, don’t you worry, little lady. I got enough of a bankroll to cover any damages.” The man grinned wide as the open range, and nodded toward the hoof-mangled motorcycle. “Now, I ain’t payin’ for that, though.”

Kassanna blew her breath toward him, inhaling his scent.

“Not a horse shapeshifter,” he answered what she already knew.

The next instant… stunned by the level of power rolling off the stranger – strong as a raging thunderstorm – Kassanna lifted her head in alarm, and took a couple of steps back. No doubt about it, he owned a force meant to control equine races.

Even though, she sensed no immediate threat from the shaman like cowboy – no trapping frequencies aimed at her – Kassanna instinctively wanted to morph to woman. His power couldn’t touch her then.

But that would have left her butt-naked. Damn!

“Smart and beautiful,” he crooned, easy as a breeze blowing over prairie wildflowers. “The handle is Denver Zamora, little lady. Me and Dante are engaged in some negotiations.”

Kassanna eyed him suspiciously, while wondering why she just didn’t gallop off, leave Mr. More Than a Cowboy in the dust. Maybe because he wasn’t trying to rope her with his sorcery.

“I was enjoyin’ some of his bar’s hospitality,” Denver added at her bold eye. “How about joinin’ me for the evening? Only dinner, good music ‘n drinks. Guaranteed I can find you an outfit, darlin’.”

Denver looked her over, his own eye bold but with a respect for horseflesh that impressed Kassanna. Well rootin’ tootin’ hell, why not give the man a show? If he liked what he saw, and she’d know if he did, then why not? No man was ever pulling the race hood over eyes again, and he had no special powers over the woman side of her.

Kassanna took her time, shifting gradually. Still as a statue, Denver stared, obviously struck by her naked assets. Yeah, even though she hadn’t shown him her bare butt.

“You promised an outfit,” Kassanna reminded.

Faster than a rattlesnake’s strike, Denver slid out of his fancy cattleman’s jacket. He held it out to her, his face taut with strain, his expression enigmatic. With an exaggerated sway of her hips, Kassanna moved to him, and took hold of the jacket.

She slipped it on quick. The well-made garment, likely tailored for the man wearing it, engulfed Kassanna, hitting below her knees.

“Not quite the fit I was lookin’ for,” she bantered.

“Dante’s club has all sorts of clothing shops. How about we find you somethin’ that fits proper?” Denver offered his arm, his manner gentlemanly but with a possessive air, like a man who truly wanted a woman.

“Kassanna is my name, Denver,” she offered, following his lead back inside the bar. “Just remember I bite damn hard.”

“I’m countin’ on it, darlin’ Kassanna,” he bantered, his voice deliciously baritone.



Wishing you shapeshifting love on the wild side… 


Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance 


March 21, 2014

The Knight Cowboy Rescues a Maiden in Distress by Savanna Kougar

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



No, this is not our cowboy hero, just a fun pic I found.

Authoress news and mews ~




Springtime in the Country at the Kougar’s RAWHIDE AND SUNDOWN ROMANCE blog


Howls and yowls, shapeshifter lovers.

Apologies for the late posting, but it just can’t be helped given my current schedule.
Hope you had a memorable and fun St. Paddy’s day. This flash scene touches on Pat Cunningham’s holiday flash from yesterday.

The Knight Cowboy Rescues a Maiden in Distress

Zakary Dumond touched his heel to Sidewinder, his immortal paint stallion, and they entered the silvery gray whirl of the time-point portal. He was on a mission of mercy.

Long ago, after a cattle drive to Wichita, Kansas, he’d gotten good and inebriated while doin’ some fine celebrating with the other cowhands at a particularly routy saloon. He’d ducked out once the fists, bottles, and glasses started flying.

Cursing as he struggled to mount his horse, he’d finally hauled himself into the saddle. Not wanting to spend a nickel on room and board, he’d set out for the campsite. Given most of his pay still jangled in his pocket, he clutched the butt of his pistol as he swayed precariously. 

Zak planned on finding a sweet plot of ground, and starting up a dairy farm. The derisive laughter still rang in his ears, since he’d mistakenly confided his ambitions. But, hell, he’d had enough of eating dust, and chasing cattle through hide-ripping brush.

Even though the nearly full moon lit his way, Zak never made it to the campsite. He’d been about to fall out of the saddle, grabbing for his horse’s mane, when a heavy mist formed like a specter coming for his soul. Well, dang, it had appeared like a regular mist, but held not an ounce of moisture as he recalled.

In the blink of his admittedly bleary eye, Zak had been trapped in this strange gray tunnel moving like liquid around him. Stories told to him by an elderly Indian medicine man flashed into his head. A gateway to other times, other worlds.

Yep, and here he was, the cowboy dimensional traveler, as the Guides fondly referred to him. Zak had undergone rigorous training like the Knights of old. Heckfire, he’d jousted with the Knights in the Irish realm as he thought of it, and done himself right proud.

Hence, he’d been summoned by the Celtic King. During the Spring Fire Ceremony his eldest daughter, Khyleara, had been lured through the dimensional veil by the lilting lovely notes of a flute — given her natural ability to slip into other worlds. 

Before traveling the tunnel to rescue her, Zak had seen glimpses of the shapeshifter enclave — a town with the handle, Talbot’s Peak, located in the state of Montana in the year 2014. With a fair number of ranches in the area, and the Western culture still strong, he’d fit right in as a cowboy.

Sidewinder snorted and tossed his head as they emerged from the fogs of time. Zak took a moment, breathing in the familiar scents of pine, of the surrounding land now awakening from a long winter’s sleep. Isolated, Talbot’s Peak sat between forested mountains and great stretches of prairie.

Spotting the well-worn trail leading to town, Zak touched Sidewinder’s neck with the reins. The stallion stepped into a fast walk, his nose to the brisk winds.

“Yeehaawww!” … “Erin go broke!” Wild roaring whoops followed, and Zak instantly reined Sidewinder to the side of the trail. Just in time, as two oddly dressed riders on bright green horses galloped by. The smell of beer, of tiger, and magick plowed into Zak’s nostrils.

“Come on, stranger,” one of the young tiger-men of East Indian descent hollered. “We’re rescuing maidens in distress.”

Smiling despite himself, Zak loped Sidewinder in their wake. Why not? He figured — like he’d been informed by the Guides — that the two youths were celebrating the holiday, St. Patrick’s day.

Zak took real serious note on the magick used to turn their horses temporarily green. An ancient Egyptian potion, if he wasn’t mistaken. Careful to keep a tight rein on the eager stallion, he stayed a distance behind, so the fumes couldn’t alter Sidewinder’s coloring.

Maidens in distress? As Zak understood the ‘wearing of the green’ celebratin’ in these times, there were colorful, outlandish parades, drunken singing and brawls, often into the wee hours of the morning…but no games where fair maidens were rescued.

Heck though, chowin’ down on corn beef and cabbage, on boiled potatoes, Zak could almost taste it. ‘Cause he’d never lost his taste for this realm’s food. 

The sudden burn against his chest where he’d pocketed Khyleara’s jeweled ring, put Zak on immediate alert. She was close. As a child, Khyleara’s energy force had been bonded to the ring’s gems, and crystalline structure. 

Letting Sidewinder gallop behind the still ‘whooping it up’ tiger-men, Zak scanned for the faint, diamond sparkling beam of light that would lead him to Khyleara. The strength of the burn, not only told him she remained nearby, but that she hadn’t been harmed in any significant way. 

Mighty relieved, Zak lasered his focus, trusting the paint to keep his stride steady. Renowned for her warrioress prowess, Khyleara would not be easy prey. ‘Though, her disappearance had been darn mysterious. Even the Seers failed to picture the sinister flute player.

The clash of long blades suddenly echoed from the forest depths. Zak touched a knee to Sidewinder, sending him off the trail, and onto a downslope where the trees thinned. The stallion picked up speed yet kept his footing over the ground where remnants of snow still remained.

The sight that met Zak’s gaze had him hauling back on the reins, and blinking for an instant. Khyleara battled an invisible enemy, her blade whipping and flashing in strikes and countermoves. Glints of sunlight changed so swiftly, Zak could barely follow the moves of her favored weapon.

“Save yourself, Knight Cowboy,” she hollered, then whirled from her fearsome foe. Her bare toes skimmed the ground, and her fiery red tresses spun in long ropes.

From the corner of his eye, Zak glimpsed a watery form in the shape of a Phovus giant. Knowing it was now or never, he fast-drew his sorcery-infused sidearm, and signaled Sidewinder by leaning forward.

The stallion leaped, charging toward Khyleara. Zak took his only shot. The magickally altered lead bullet struck the giant’s forehead, and he started to materialize.

With a hideous, ear-splitting howl, the Phovus thundered after Khyleara just as Zak leaned to one side. Gripping Sidewinder with only his thighs, Zak caught hold of Khyleara’s waist, and swooped the fully naked woman up before him.

Given her natural athleticism, Khyleara seated herself clinging to him in a way that didn’t hamper their escape. Once the stallion galloped along the trail, and the giant’s pursuit ceased, Zak quipped, “It looks as though this is the day to rescue maidens in distress.”

“I am not distressed. Not in the least,” Khyleara sharply corrected, her tone affronted.

Zak merely grinned, and did some fine enjoyin’ of her naked charms pressed so tightly against him.



Have a Magickal Shapeshifting Week…  


Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance 


March 14, 2014

Zondros, Ace Pilot and Monster Hunter by Savanna Kougar

Thursday howls and yowls, shapeshifter lovers.

This week we meet the hero who would rescue our fair werewolf witch from a pack of pursuing mutant werewolves.

Zondros, Ace Pilot and Monster Hunter

Zondros, ace pilot and monster hunter, swooped low over the tall pines but pushed his modified helicopter to full speed. The instant Dante had gotten wind that his sire, Damien, was on the move, the alpha wolf leader had contacted.

They’d been best buds through several skirmishes in the jungles of Thailand, rescuing hapless humans from the demon trolls who infested the outlying areas. Of course, this had been after they’d pummeled each other with bare fists for hours. Later over beers Zondros realized the werewolf was his ally, not a mindless fiend.

Zondros had been tracking a Bigfoot family in Colorado — protecting them from a black-ops team ordered to capture then bring them to a secret genetics lab — when he’d spotted a pack of roaming mutant werewolves. A month earlier, Dante had put the word out about the mutants to Zondros’ clandestine network of hunters – their mission: protect innocent humans and on-the-good-side *not humans* while hunting down the dangerous monsters.

Trouble was, Zondros hadn’t been able to discover the precise location of Damien’s mountain-shielded lab. Not until recently, when Gypsy Red Wolf and a witch named, Marissa, had heard an attempt at telepathic communication, then penetrated the layer upon layer of sorcery shrouding the Doctor Moreau lab.

From that point, the infiltrator who only identified herself as Wolf Friend, had loosed bursts of info infrequently, but enough so Zondros knew the compound’s approximate location, and had been on daily patrol. Waiting.

On his monitor, Zondros watched the smallish athletic woman burst out of her clothing then morph to wolf in the near blink of an eye. With a backpack between her shoulder blades, she shot from the lab’s hidden entrance. At a dead run the silver-coated wolfess raced along a route she’d obviously already planned out.

Concerned despite her amazing speed, Zondros smoothly dived toward a natural platform of rock. Quickly landing his small, nearly silent copter, he grabbed his ray blaster and jumped out.

Given his own superior strength, Zondros made quick tracks through the deep snow.  Sighting the gorgeous wolf digging furiously, he sprang on top of a flat-surfaced boulder, then hollered, “I’ve dispatched them, my lovely.”

With a snout full of brush, she whipped her gaze to him.  “Care to go for a ride on my copter?” he asked. “Dante sent me,” he added, when her eyes glowed savagely.

A split second later, she dropped the brush and raced in his direction. Zondros fired an energy blast at the charging pack of mutant werewolves. The micro-sound waves fried their limited brains enough to halt them, and send them into crazed nose-to-tail circles.

He launched off the boulder, waving at the brave wolfess to follow him. Side by side, they sprinted toward his low humming copter. The panel doors opened, recognizing his energy signature.

She sprang inside — one fluid motion — while Zondros hauled ass into his seat. With a few touches of his controls, he sailed them upward but on a trajectory away from the lab. Only the One Above knew what advanced-horror tech Damien possessed.

Keeping an eye on his sensors, he also eyed his panting passenger from his peripheral vision. She sat calmly, her gaze locked on his monitor.

Once they reached a high enough altitude, Zondros focused on flying, and hit his rockets as he called the copter’s double-barreled propulsion.

With a tight hold on his controls, Zondros gave his full attention to keeping them airborne. Flight could be tricky, especially if they entered a pocket of turbulence.

“How fast does this, this thing fly?” he heard a soft voice ask.

Zondros risked a sideways glance, and caught the naked woman reaching for a wool survival blanket. Re-focusing, he removed the image of beautiful, cocoa-tinted skin, of a long graceful arm, and a mop of pale, ginger-colored curls.

“If I tell you, I’ll have to kill you,” he joked in his swaggering tone.

“Seriously?” she asked, the softness of her voice at odds with what he’d expected.

“No. Let’s say it’s close to the speed of sound. We’re headed for Talbot’s Peak,” he added to put the werewolfess at ease. “By the by, the name is Zondros.”

“Ah…” The word was a puff of air. “Do you know who you remind me of?” She paused, and Zondros resisted his rising lust, not looking at her from the corner of his eye.

“The Red Baron,” she continued. “You know, geared out in leather, scarf in the wind, the goggles, even that super rifle… how do you know Dante?”

“We got to know each other in Thailand during his world travels. Fisticuffs led to male bonding, you could say.”

Zondros felt her nod. “I’m Sulandra, his niece… but he’s never met me. You know, the secret baby thing.”

“Sulandra, a pleasure to meet you,” Zondros charmed and wished they were getting to know each other, having drinks at an upscale bar. “Secret baby?” he pursued, knowing she’d opened the door.

“Devon Hancock is my sire. I doubt he owns a damn clue, though. My mother is a witch, and she probably cast a spell…” her voice trailed away.

Forcing himself to concentrate, Zondros eased back on the copter’s speed and began his descent toward the shapeshifter enclave. He’d spent little time at the Pleasure Club, given his monster hunting missions. Now the desire to accept Dante’s standing invitation leaped up and grabbed him by the throat. Not to mention  his deprived cock activated itself at the mere thought of being with Sulandra. And he’d yet to see her face. Or her other beauteous attributes.

“Will you stay with me?” she asked, her tone even softer than before. “I — I don’t really know anyone, except telepathically. But not personally. And… there’s something about you I trust.”

Zondros swallowed the sudden lump in his throat. The werewolfess, and her unexpected vulnerability, had gotten to him already. “Count on it. Dante and I are overdo for a long catch-up conversation, and a barroom bash and crash.”

“Bash and crash,” she repeated, a giggle in her voice.

“Male bonding must be reinforced,” Zondros drily quipped.

“Talbot’s Peak is in mucho trouble.” Sulandra spoke in a sober tone.



Wishing you love and passion on the wild side … 



Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance

Originally published at SHAPESHIFTER SEDUCTIONS.

March 8, 2014

Werewolf and Witch By Lineage by Savanna Kougar

Mad March howls and yowls, shapeshifter lovers.

In last week’s flash scene, our villain Damien Hancock was about to sniff out the infiltrator inside his mutant-landia lab. Well… here’s the ongoing story.

Werewolf and Witch By Lineage

Werewolf and witch by lineage, Sulandra, used her psi-power, listening to her grandsire, Damien Hancock, interrogate and shmooze Morloxian — the humpy-bumpy, butt sniffer. Scat, so far she’d been able to fend off his grab-ass, clumsy advances whenever she did her own conversational interrogation of him. After all, even mad scientists had to be fed, and she’d signed on to be his personal cook.

Mammoth mutant werewolf! That got Sulandra’s rabid attention. Escaping, her goal the compound’s delivery tunnel, she paused in her stealthy stride.

The very instant the mafioso-like pack leader entered the underground lab’s main corridor, Sulandra had  realized it was time to get the effing hell out of Dodge, or in this case Colorado.

Damien’s on-the-hunt scent for the infiltrator, her, hit Sulandra’s nostrils like acid. She’d grabbed her backpack, then slowly wended her way through the black-as-tar labyrinth.

With her superior senses, she’d memorized the path despite being blindfolded, then allowed sight only once inside the delivery area — larger than any warehouse Sulandra had ever seen. Suddenly low, hideous warning snarls blasted down her human witchy spine.

Yep, the hellhound-werewolf combo was on guard. “Hey, Yorgo, you’re going to let me pass without a big nasty battle… aren’t you?” Sulandra snatched the large ball of raw beef out of her pocket. “Here ya go,” she soothingly coaxed.

Yorgo’s thunder-engine growl ceased. He sniffed noisily, his blood-red nostrils like strangely moving orbs in the blackness. Sulandra hadn’t been stupid enough to try infusing the meat with any drug, potion, or spell. Yorgo would have immediately known, wanting to chomp her down as a snack instead.

Sulandra gave the beef ball a toss toward him. As his jaws snapped like a wildlife trap around the meat, she scooted against the wall past his giant bulk. Yorgo emanated a poisonous odor that reminded her of a cigarette smoke-saturated motel room. With difficulty, Sulandra held her breath and stifled her urge to cough her lungs out.

She ran. From the palm of her hand, Sulandra threw a lightball — her own witchy version of ‘gps’ — having prepared it for this day. Simultaneously, Yorgo’s enraged roar shook the steel and concrete tunnel. His heavy footsteps raced after her, thunder meeting an earthquake.

With adrenaline flooding her bloodstream, Sulandra sprinted faster. A champion marathoner in werewolf circles, she gained a bit of distance, even as licks of fire roasted her human butt.

No! she ordered when her wolf ferociously growled, demanding to be let loose. Sulandra still needed her human fingers to open the delivery door. That is, if the code hadn’t been changed or automatically switched off.

Ouch-scat! hellfire lashed her back… but, irony of ironies, she’d been living in the lab-boiling pits of hell, alright. Charging into the short tunnel leading to the delivery entrance, Sulandra threw her force at the lightball. Instantly, it sizzled brightly, then reversed direction, flying past her.

Yorgo screamed in agony. Sulandra slowed and whipped around. Direct hit! Right between his four, monstrously big, blazing crimson eyes.

Unable to see, Yorgo crashed about searching for her by scent. Resuming her running stride, Sulandra sprinted for the control panel before…

Blinding light filled the entire warehouse-like area. Sulandra stopped in her tracks. Momentarily. Keeping her eyelids clenched so her retinas wouldn’t burn, she opened her psi eyes.

“Surrender, bitch.” As if he snarled through a thousand megaphones, Damien Hancock’s voice pulsed around her.

“Yeah, yeah, granddad,” Sulandra muttered under her breath, while rapidly touching in the code.

She hoped to Goddess moon, she didn’t have to waste her supernatural powers on tripping the circuitry. Escaping Damien Hancock’s formidable reach, would take far more than freeing herself from his massive crypto-monster lab.

Just as Sulandra heard the frequency hum meant to paralyze her, then jellify her whole, the thirty foot steel doors began to buzz and slide open. Whirling, Sulandra sped the short distance, then shoved through the crack.

Wintery air slapped her face. As Sulandra opened her eyes, the bright afternoon sunlight caused her to blink rapidly. She shifted to wolf ‘asap’, ripping her minimal clothing apart — all while hearing humongous paws crunch over the thick layer of snow.

The mutant werewolves guarding the lab were on her trail. And no, they wouldn’t be satisfied with a piece of her tail, either. The crazed beasts would shred her into unrecognizable pieces, if her plan failed. 

Sulandra swiftly bounded over the ice-blanketed snow toward the cave system she’d remote viewed, but had never actually been inside. Behind her, the pack of mutant werewolves gained ground, their long running strides nearly silent now.

A cold calm replaced the fear starting to fester inside her. All she had to do was find the brush-covered entrance, then wiggle through… shots rang out!

Sulandra leaped in reaction, startled. This wasn’t ordinary rifle ammo being fired. More like the sound of military style tracers combined with M-80 firecrackers.

Keeping her spy cool, Sulandra focused on the surroundings she’d memorized via remote viewing. Howls-eureka! Sliding to a halt before the outcropping of rock, she dug with frenzied paws, spraying the snow behind her. 

Then, like the fiend some considered her to be — fools they — Sulandra yanked away the brush overgrowth with her fangs. About to clear the entrance, she heard, “I’ve dispatched them, my lovely. Care to go for a ride on my copter?”



Wishing you romance on the wild side… 


Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance ~




Originally published at SHAPESHIFTER SEDUCTIONS.

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