This one is from the WIP Angel Falls: Sunspots. Its the beginning of… The Date! LOL The part of Winston will be forever played by Cherrod Cheeky-Monkey Cook…. Man, don’t get him started… Winston, not Cherrod… LOL
“Hello Beautiful,” Winston’s golden eyes gleamed at Bryan as he stepped inside the nurse’s home for the first time. He didn’t know what to expect, maybe paintings of the Serengeti or huge African masks and wooden figures that depicted gods and goddesses of the past—but what he got was something completely different. “It looks like Better Homes and Cosmopolitan Living had a bastard child and birthed it in your livingroom. He paled a bit as the words flew uninhibited out of his mouth, but relaxed as Winston’s loud laughter filled what could have become an uncomfortable silence. “Oh I needed that, handsome,” Winston chuckled, wiping tears from the corners of his eyes as he stared down at him. “You know how to start a date off right.” “I didn’t mean to insult—“ “None taken,” Winston continued to chuckle as he closed the door on the outside world and ushered Bryan deeper into his home. “I love plants and I crave modern unanimities,” he explained. “Not all of Africa is wild jungles, dry deserts, and poor long breasted women and their starving children covered in flies.” “I know that,” Bryan flushed red-hot as he realized he had been unconsciously thinking those very thoughts. “You were, but its okay,” Winston moved closer to him, his gait as graceful as ever. “You American’s have been conditioned to think that thought the wonders of media and charity driven commercials. Don’t sweat it. I know you are no bigot.” “Not making a very good first impression, am I?” he relaxed as Winston’s kind smile got his heart pumping a little faster than normal. “You made your first impression when you put yourself out and in the way of danger for your friends,” Winston answered, reaching out and brushing a hand down the center of his chest, stopping just above his embarrassing pudge. “That is the man I see when I look at you.” He offered Bryan another bight smile and the poor man realized that all that rapidly pumping blood was finding a nice tight home right in his crotch. He cleared his throat nervously and took a step back, looking around the room again. Winston’s house was a huge three story Hudson Bay design of stone and brick. The picture window that dominated the front of the house was filled will all sorts of tropical plants and flowering vines. It was a hectic kaleidoscope of greens, yellows, purples, and oranges with a shy white blossom poking out here and there. There was a fireplace in the far wall flanked by a set of deeply comfortable looking leather chairs covered in white furry throws. Completely filled bookcases ran the length of another wall and around a wall-mounted steampunk looking clock sculpture, complete with working gears and cogs. Before that sat a low modern looking leather and steal couch surrounded by a collection of massive looking pillows and a low glass and steal coffee table. Huge potted plants and waist high taper candles filled in blank spaces and surrounded a curtained doorway that presumably led to a set of stairs that led up or to a hallway. “You do have a beautiful home.” He turned his eyes back to Winston, taking in what his date for the evening was wearing. Winston noticed the observation and spread his arms out to the side, inviting the visual examination. On his feet was a pair of those odd shoes, the ones that men where when you can’t tell if they are dress shoes or some kind of athletic wear. His were in shades of tan and deep brown with cream trim. His jeans were tight in the thigh and loose in the calf, boot cut… and his ass… The denim strained to hold those perfect muscular orbs without being pornographic. Bryan didn’t know how Winston managed to pull off that look, but he was defiantly not complaining. His t-shirt was tight. It fit him, but it was tight, showing off every bulge of muscle and tense sinew in his broad upper body. His head, was always, was buffed to bald perfection and his fingers itched to run along the smooth looking scalp, knowing that the skin there would be soft to the touch. He looked down into Winston’s amused eyes and felt his blush return. “Y—you look good,” he stammered, trying not to look away and scuff his toes into the brilliantly shiny wooden floor. “You look hot, stud muffin,” Winston purred, circling him like a stalking cat, no pun intended, but the man moved like a feline on the prowl. He tugged at his slightly overly black large t-shirt, the white logo reading ‘You’ve read my shirt, that’s enough social interaction for the day’, and puffed up his chest a little more. He was a tiny bit scared and still confused as to what Winston saw in him, but damn it, the man picked him for a reason. Remembering that made him stand a bit taller. Not liking the way his jeans made him feel, Bryan opted for a neat pair of cargo pants with many zipable pockets. They were comfortable and somewhat figure slimming and gave definition to his thighs and calves, the best parts of his body in his estimation. Oh his feet were his sturdy black Chucks, classic and stylish. He had gotten his hair trimmed so that the curls he usually fought against as being too girly were tamed and in control. He didn’t look too shabby, he thought but… but now Winston was staring at him. Silently he awaited the verdict and chuckled softly when Winston purred. “But you cut your hair,” he pouted a little. “I shall miss the curls until they grow back.” “It grows back fast,” he assured him, before gesturing to the door. They had to get moving before Winston noticed the growing bulge in his cargos that the close scrutiny of the shape shifter had given him. He didn’t want to appear to be some sort of horny teenager unable to control himself— “So, are you ready or…” he looked Winston over as his words trailed off. “I am ready,” he walked over to one of the leather recliners and plucked up a messenger bag. “You promised to feed me so where are we going? There are only tow restaurants in this town and since the theater is here in Angel Falls, I am sure it has got to be one of the two if we are going to make the retrospective in time.” “Good deduction, Watson,” he teased, “but I am not taking you to a restaurant. I am taking you home with me.” “Ohh,” Winston moved in closer, his eyes glinting like molten gold. “But we haven’t even had our first date.” “I—“ Damn fair skin, Bryan mused as the red in his face returned with a vengeance, “I made you dinner. I hope that’s okay?” “Oh food prepared by these two hands,” Winston reached out and took his hands, enveloping them in his own huge paws. “I am honored.” “I hope so,” he finally relaxed enough to smile. The usual teasing was not in his voice so Bryan knew that he was being serious. “I already am,” Winston, promised before opening the door and gesturing for Bryan to exit. “And later, I’ll give you a tour of my home.” Bryan exited the house and nearly drifted to the van. Winston was already a perfect date and from this point on, things could only keep looking up.
I deleted over one hundred photos today, and I shed a tear.
But they had to go. I had to make room. It had to be done.
I deleted over a one hundred photos today, and it made me sad.
There goes the skyline of France that I probably will never see. But I stored the photo cause it made me happy to imagine that I would… one day.
There goes that photo of batman and the bat can. I kept them cause they made me smile. But… but its been so long since I looked at any of them. I guess those smiles have already been spent.
I got rid of the volcano in the winter, and I recalled the images of fire in snow that one time empowered me. Now its just taking up space, the power already spent.
I got rid of the photos that showed my house the way I wanted it to be, the ship bed in the sky. My kids are too big for that now. The wall to ceiling bookcases that will never be built cause I don’t have the time and can’t spare the expense.
There went the photos of Time magazine with the photo of Martin Luther the King… they are using him as a blunt weapon now. He is not being haled for what he managed to accomplish in the fight for civil rights… now he and his messages are being perverted in gun rights adds and for furthering a strange political agenda that seems to me, that is set out to make me belittle and doubt myself. There goes Rosa Parks too… cause that image of her next to a woman holding a rifle has lost the power to anger me. Its sort of a benign acceptance now. Sad, but its like no one really cares that a scion for peace is being used to peddle guns.
I got rid of the fantasy women, holding broad swords and spears. I once wanted to be like them but as old age and physical deformity sets in, I am grateful that I can just still heft a friggin sword, let alone swash some buckle with it. So they need to go. Not because they remained me of the what I once was or what I could be if I tried, but because the images are branded in my brain. I no longer need the visual reference. Besides, when was the last time you saw a skinny black warrior woman with a sword? I took their essence and I made it mine so the photos, as nice as they are, are no longer needed.
I got rid of those funny little trendy sayings because as funny as it seems, trends change and what I once found ironic or humors now is just trite, so they have to go.
And along with them the adds that made me laugh, the sarcastic comments that used to fall from my lips like wine form a drunkards glass after they finished most of the box… on their own I might add.
With a click of a key, there went the cute little fuzzy pig in rain boots. Why the hell was that here anyway? And with it goes the old lightening struck tree, the owl in a hoodie, dog in a dress and the dancing skeletons in the pumpkin patch. What the hell was I thinking?
I’ll keep the albino lion, it reminds me of Den and I’ll keep the swimming tyger cause it reminds me to keep treading water.
I’ll keep those wonderful photos of Miss Josephine Baker in her leopard spotted best. One day I am going to recreate that costume, and I will keep the period dresses and beadwork. I still have a few one days left in me.
But the photos of abandoned libraries ad buildings being reclaimed by nature, they can go. I am depressed enough watching the laundry reclaim my bedroom. Don’t need another sad reminder of how time slips away.
I got rid of those photos of nebulas and star clusters, and heavenly bodies that used to make me wonder. At one point it was like looking at the fingerprints of God, and I marveled at their perfection. Now they have seemed to have lost quite a bit of sparkle and looks more like God spat them out in an effort to curse what his creations here on earth are doing. That was such a depressing thought that I went to look at more photos of animals being human… and then decided those had to go to. Cats with coffee mugs and baby deer in t-shirts no longer appear cute. More like we tramped over their natural habitat and are forcing them to conform to what we think is cute. Poor animals. I shall keep the ones of them running thought nature, frolicking away from us humans and I will envy them their lifestyle of choice, snicker, while they still have the land to frolic.
So I deleted over a hundred photos today. Good memories and interesting cause really you never have bad memories. Only hard lessons that slapped you upside the head and changed and helped shape the basic you into whoever you happen to be right now.
So I deleted over a hundred photos and I shed over a hundred tears… cause of what was lost, of what could never be, cause I was feeling sorry for myself? I don’t know. I won’t look at it too closely cause this is not the time for retrospection. This is the time for cleaning house. So they all had to go…. except that one of Bruce Lee. That one reminds me of his words and to be water. You can’t stopper or destroy water. It reforms, reshapes, it flows and erodes and that is a damn fine thing. Ever changing and yet changing at all. Be water Stephanie, Be Water.
“You may fool everyone else, but it is damn near impossible to fool yourself.”
Blake stared in his mirror, stared at that lying face, that cute face, that face that everyone just loved to see—and he wanted to smash it.
Pain blossomed in his fisted hand before he even realized what he had done.
Suddenly, his perfect smile was tinted red, red with the thin pale blood that dripped down the intricate patterns of cracks that appeared in his mirror.
Now there were a hundred little grinning faces, all his, and all terrifying for the maniacal laughter that rolled from those perfect lips.
Blake looked down, looked down at the tingling pain he felt in his right hand and saw the myriad of small shards of glass embedded in his skin. There were fine cuts that didn’t bleed, and deeper cuts that ran red like water from a faucet
He looked up again and he grinned wider as he saw more of the broken shards reflecting he light and every color of the rainbow. Crystal shards of glass lay like pretty broken dreams.
So he sat there, shaking at realization that he couldn’t escape this life, that he would be caged here forever.
“Blake! Blake? Are you listening to me, boy?”
And there was the keeper of his cell, the holder of the keys—
“Blake! Answer me! Don’t make me break down this door!”
The impatient bastard.
Swiping the broken glass away with his injured hand, Blake rose to his feet and took a deep breath. He counted to ten backwards, and by the time he reached one, the despair that was steadily growing in his eyes had receded. It was fully hidden by the time he finished walking across the floor, and when he swing the door open, all negative emotions were seemingly gone. His face was a blank slate.
“Yes, Franziko?” he asked calmly, smiling despite the red droplets that softly dropped to the floor.
“What is keeping you? You know you have to perform and don’t want to hear any of your bullshit.” He looked down and pursed his lips as his eyes followed a droplet of blood until it splashed onto his shoes. “And what the fuck happened to your hand?”
The short balding man changed gears as he watched the crimson trials drip from his star’s hand to the floor, his voice becoming less demanding and more vindictive.
“This had better not be any of that suicide bullshit, demon. I own you and nothing you do will release you from my grasp.”
Quick as a striking snake, Franziko’s hand shot out and gripped a handful of Blake’s flowing black hair. With a snarl on his lips, he jerked the taller man down to his eye level. Blakemore grinned.
“You had better fucking get your shit together, demon. I don’t give a damn if you pass out from blood loss. Get your ass on that stage then go greet your customers for the night. You should be grateful I don’t just exile your ass to another dimension.”
All the while, Blake kept grinning.
He smiled even though he wanted to rip his owners head off his body and piss on his brains. He smiled harder as he felt his powers flair up—and then pain as the protective spells warded in the binding to protect his possessor flooded his body with pain. The collar he wore tightened around his throat in warning and soon he knew it would choke him unconscious if he didn’t calm.
And all the while, Blake smiled. He smiled because if he did anything less, he would have burst out into tears.
“Fucking waste of space,” the Franziko hissed, shoving Blake back, ignoring the stumbling, the blood, and the maniacal grin— ignoring everything but the fact that Blake was only a piece of ass and that later he was going to put it to good use. “You have five minuets.” Then noticing the broken mirror behind him, the man grunted. “And clean up that shit up. I have standards to maintain and I will not have them compromised by the likes of you.”
Franziko turned, straitening a jacket that would have better fit a much trimmer man, and stalked away, muttering some truly nasty things.
Turning, Blake closed the door and shut out the world for a few more minuets before he had to take up the reins of his life again.
Walking over to the mirror, he snapped his finger and instantly the glass was gone, the shards in his hand jerked free and flew to the shattered mirror, slotting themselves in place as it reassembled itself.
Blake looked down at his hand noting the healing factor in his blood had already healed the worst of the wounds into thin pale scars that would soon disappear.
“The show must go on,” he intoned, forcing his voice into sounding happier, more up beat, though he felt the pain of his captivity deep within his heart.
Then it was time to smear on some eyeliner and dress in whatever Franziko’s handlers left out for him. Then Blakemore the Songbird was ready to take his place on the stage, wow the audience, and sell one more piece of his soul to the highest bidder,
“Shane on you, Blakemore,” he whispered to himself as Franziok himself began to bang once again on his door. “Damn you for still being alive when your spirit is so dead.” He swung the door open to the delight of his owner, and presented a perfectly beautiful perfectly calm face to his owner.
As always before he took to the stage, he cast his mind to a pair of rich hazel eyes and a perfect full bottom lip. He was just glad to see that she would never see him this way. He ignored the murmuring of the people in the audience— he couldn’t see them anyway— but he could defiantly hear them laughing and talking.
Walking over to his microphone, he closed his eyes for a moment, snapping them open as the spotlight fell on his face, the collar compelling him to obey the orders of his owner. When the music from the piano in the back of the stage began to swell, he opened his mouth and his anger and sadness pour form his soul.
Did a demon like him have a soul anymore? He hadn’t a clue but the words and the emotion came from some placed trapped deep inside of him, some place that longed for death as the only escape from this hell.
He finished the first song to the usual rounds of applause and standing ovations, he ignored a few who her jokingly discussing outbidding eachother for the pleasure of his company that night.
It took everything in him to smile as the house lights were raised and he was escorted from the stage.
He was ready to have his owners neckless thugs escort him around so the bidders could get a better view of the sale goods, when he heard a voice that made him jerk his head up in shock while hope and shame vie in his mind for supremacy.
From the Upcoming, How Not To Date a Bear, Too....
A NC 17 M/M bit from Richard and Theo… *g* never mind the cougar… LOL
“I can’t be yours,” Theo snarled. “Lady, I don’t even know you,” Damn crazy cougar shifter, he thought.
“But you will, fuzzy,” she snapped back, digging her claws in,
Just as Theo decided that enough was enough and the pain from her caw like hands was getting to the point where he was going to swat her just for self preservation, a deep gravely voice intervened.
“Release him, madam, and do it right now.”
Theo looked over to see the man he was frankly not going a good version of hiding behind, bend low to speak to the woman.
“Why should I?” she snapped back. “Finders keepers—“
“Because I belong to him,” Theo snapped as the woman froze in shock long enough for him her jerk his arm free and fling it around his savior.”
“What—“ “I belong to him as long as he wants me,” Theo all but climbed up on the tall man as he glared at the red head.
“On line dating,” he grinned as she frowned hard and stepped back. “We met on line and now we are going back to his place to fuck.”
“What?” the man gasped and Theo gave him a kick to the back of his leg, his motion undetected because the crazy woman was too busy staring at their faces in displeasure to notice anything.
“Would you prefer to go to my place?” he asked, all wide-eyed and innocent as he could make himself. “There is protection in either place—“
“You and him?” she sniffed intently, the frown still on her face.
“What’s not to love?” Theo snipped, reaching up to caress the strangers strong face before leaning in close to nibble his ear. “Play along,” he whispered softly. “Please-“
Before he could beg and plead his case more, a strong arm came up and around his waist, pulling him closer to the whipcord lean body.
The man was built, his internal lothario roared. Those strong arms were made to hold him down and plow his ass. Those thick thighs he felt against this were going to provide maximum thrusting power. The strong back under his hands would—and then all thoughts fled as a very large hand cupped his very happy ass. Fuck the crazy lady, the bar, his favorite bartender—the perfect form of human masculinity was cupping… and squeezing his ass.
As all the blood rushed to his very interested cock, his thoughts took a turn for the hazy.
Getting fucked would be so good now… But that was not what he needed at this point. It was sad to say but escape was more important than sex… almost.
“I don’t believe it,” she sniffed, moving in closer.
“You have something against gay sex?” Theo quipped, looking smug as the perfect mass of humanity gripped him tighter.
“This is Canada,” he informed the red head. “We believe in personal freedoms here.”
“I never said—“
“So you understand my unavailability and will respect my boundaries,” Theo growled, his accent making its way into his voice.
The stranger smiled down at him and raised a hand to toy with his long hair. “Love the accent,” he all but purred and Theo felt something deep in his stomach twist. He was two seconds from coming in his pants and didn’t really care who knew.
“So, go away,” he motioned absently to the woman. “Busy here.”
“But I found him first!” she was so angry her face was now the color of her hair and she was stamping hard. How she didn’t break a heel was a complete mystery, but Theo only noticed in passing. Mr. perfect was into him big time.
“Stop infringing on my rights to exist,” Theo had no trouble playing damsel in distress if it got her to go away.
“I would never—“
“Then have a nice life,” He shivered as Mr. Perfect ran a long calloused finer over his jaw before teasing his ear.
Then there was a mouth on his, a warm wet mouth… and that was a slick hot tongue… and Theo closed his eyes and stopped thinking.
This kiss was unlike anything he had ever experienced. Mr. Perfect’s lips were full and soft, a hint of his five-o’clock shadow gently abrading his skin. He tasted of mint candy and lemonade, a strange combo that worked perfectly with his natural taste.
He didn’t know exactly when his right leg lifted, or when it wrapped around Mr. Perfect’s waist, but before he could even contemplate what that meant, he felt two broad strong hands cupping his ass, a boost, and then he had a new perch on the bar.
Somewhere in the back of his mind, he heard a disgruntled hey, a loud hiss, and some good-natured cheers as the ginger cougar left, but all of that was washed away in the wake of that kiss.
His hands were buried in long silky hair, his head tilted almost submissively, and his mouth giving way under the assault of tongue and teeth. Nothing else truly mattered at that moment.
“I am a bear, you know,” Theo informed him, even as he discovered new ways of sucking on a dusky nipple and speaking at the same time.
“Oh I know,” Richard moaned, throwing his head back as Theo’s hand cupped his denim-clad ass. “That’s why I am in this club.”
“I don’t mean hairy,” Theo explained stepping back from him to stare up into his eyes. It was odd, having to look up, as he was not a small man by any stretch of the imagination.
“Oh I know,” Richard repeated, one of his massive hands tangling in Theo’s hair, pulling his head back as he bent low to lick up the side of his neck. “I recognized you were when the red head came after you.”
Theo pulled back and narrowed his eyes at him. “Recognized?”
“This is the second time I am saving your skin, boy. I sent her packing earlier and it looks like she’s intent on stalking you.”
“You were the mountie?” Theo asked, eyes widening as he stepped back and recalled the tantalizing picture Richard in the traditional red and black uniform on horseback… not that he noticed at the time… really… Oh yeah… thick thighs. His dick started drooling in response. Oh yeah, he could get with that.
“I am,” Richard smiled, his hand tightening in Theo’s hair, pulling a moan from the suddenly smirking man. “Constable Robert Bear, please never call me Robbie or Dick. Robert will do nicely.”
“But you would not have known if it wasn’t for the pissed off ginger.”
“Nope,” Richard agreed. But I was aiming to have Archer introduce us anyway. He knows what type of man I go for and you are definitely it. “Wrong season for polar bears to be down this far and you are not exactly the size of the average bear we get around here when shifted. What shall I call you besides hot as fuck?”
“Theodore Bazanov,” Theo grinned. “Call me Theo or the best fuck you will ever have… whichever you prefer. Just never call me Teddy. I hate that fucking name.”
“Understood,” he snickered. “Do I look like a fucking Robbie?”
“No,” Theo growled, his eyes flashing form black to gold then back again. “You look fucking delicious.”
“Than have a bite,” Robbie purred, tilting his head back and allowing Theo access to his vulnerable neck.
“You do know how to show a man a good time,” Theo hissed before he leaned up and licked at the mountie’s neck. He closed his eyes at the taste of herbal aftershave, sweat, smoke, and pure healthy male.
The flavors mingled so well on his tongue that he licked again and again, sucking a soft bit of flesh into his mouth, worrying at it with his teeth.
Above him, the bug guy moaned, his body stiffening up before his hands dug into his shoulders.
Theo didn’t care. He was riding a high he hadn’t felt in years. His instincts were screaming at him to mark this man and who was he to deny his instincts? He set teeth to neck with purpose, biting and sucking hard, feeling the man’s dick swell in his pants against his stomach.
“Fuck,” Robert hissed, both hands going to Theo’s hair and pulling him away from his prize. “I am going to have to take you someplace and fuck you hard.”
“Who says that I won’t be fucking you?” Theo snarled, his own hands going to Robert’s hair and getting a grip on the long silken mass.
“I don’t bottom,” Robert moaned into the pull. “But I love being bitten, scratched, and having my hair pulled. Boy, you are hitting all my buttons hard.”
“And—“ Theo choked. This man was so fucking alpha without even trying. “And what makes you think I’m gonna bend over for you?”
“The fact that you’ve been grinding your dick against my thigh the whole time we’ve been talking?”
“I find you interesting,” he hissed, jerking hard on Robert’s hair, yanking his head back to he could return to marking up all that red gold skin.
“I think you are begging for a spanking,” Robbie growled, but closed his eyes and leaned into the pull.
“Fuck,” Theo gasped as Robert balefully glazed at him though eyelids dropped at half-mast. The sensuality of this man was nearly overwhelming. His body was hot and hard, his cock felt substantial and his scent… Theo inhaled deeply, pulling in mating pheromones and hunger. There was the faint tinge of excitement in his scent pile, and enough confidence to choke a bear.
“When I get you out of here,” Robert promised. “You would like that, wouldn’t you baby? Don’t you want to pull me out,” his hands drifted to Theo’s neck, gripping the back of it with calloused hands and gently kneading the skin. “You want to pull me out and taste me, don’t you? I got something for you to lick and tease. You want to taste me, don’t you? You want me to slide my dick down your throat and fuck you that way? It’s okay, baby,” he purred. “I know you want to choke me down. It’ll taste so good… I’m so hard for you, Angel. It’s yours if you want it. You want it?”
“Stop fucking talking,” Theo hissed, his whole body wracked with shivers. His dick was a painful blood filled mass behind his tight jeans. I ached and throbbed with every word Robert spoke. And he was right. He wanted to choke on that dock, to swallow him down, to feel those thigh thighs shifting under his hands. He wanted this man so badly.
“Then I’ll open you up,” Robert whispered, jerking his hair free of Theo’s desperate grasp. He bent and began to purr into Theo’s ear, making promise that man was determined to keep. “I’ll open you up with my fingers, Theo. I’ll slide them one at a time into your tight little hole—split you open for me. I’ll stretch you so good, baby. You’ll love the burn, just the right amount to make you feel it. And when you are soft and trembling on my fingers, begging for me, I’m going to slide in so deep and slow—It’ll feel like forever but I’m going to fill you like you’ve never been. Gonna stretch you on my hot cock, Theo. And when you can’t breath, cant think, can’t do anything but lie beneath me whimpering, I’m gonna fuck you so hard you’ll feel it next week.”
“Great Uris,” Theo moaned as his balls tightened and he could feel the leaking head of his cock soak his denim.
“Great Uris is right,” a voice cut in and Theo blinked bleary eyes to stare up at Archer. “That sounds so damn good I’m tempted to join you. But as I know you both aren’t into threesomes, why don’t you take it out of here before you cause a riot, huh? The pheromones you two are kicking up are going to cause me a big fucking problem if an orgy breaks out in this place. And I promised when I started managing this place, that there won’t be any orgies or live sex acts.”
Theo looked around and froze as he noticed almost every pair of eyes were on them.
A low growl rumbled form his throat and those who were his flavor of shifter immediately looked away. Other shifters backed off, and the human suddenly found their drinks or their partners much more interesting than before.
“My place, now.” Theo snapped, reaching out to grip Roberts arm, dragging him to the exit.
“You don’t want a safety?” Archer called after them, laugher in his eyes and voice.
“Fuck you, constable!” Theo called back as Robert allowed himself to be pulled out of the club.
“MY truck is there,” Robert interrupted their rapid escape and pointed to a huge beast of a vehicle. Usually, Theo would take time to appreciate such a monstrosity, but he was not in the mood just now.
“My bike is there,” he pointed to his sleek black chopper as he made moves in its direction. “You got two choices, ride bitch or try to keep up.”
“Keeping up,” Robert purred, gripping Theo’s and to spin him around. “Don’t fuck up my goodies, Theo. I hand’ gotten a chance to sample them yet.”
Theo opened his mouth to comment, but a slick hot tongue forced its way inside and he found himself holding on to Robert’s shoulders as he suckled his tongue, as he teased and tormented it with his own, sucking down the flavor of his soon to be lover like a starving man.
He broke of the kiss when his thighs started getting shaky and his claws inadvertently slid from his fingertips.
“Fuck,” he gaped, pulling back several steps.
Robert smiled down at him and Theo had to grip his dick to keep from coming on the spot. It was going to be an uncomfortable trip home on the bike, but he needed the cool down, he figured.
Nodding, he turned to his bike, revisiting the urge to look back over his shoulder at Robert, as he climbed on and bright the engine to life.
The sound of the truck’s engine flaring up behind him made him want to hurry, to make Robert chase him to prove he was worthy.
So he gunned the engine and took off, the warm night air enveloping him like a blanket as he raced the moon. And all the time, Robert stayed on his tail. His instincts were scramming, his dick the throbbing, and he knew when they made it to his home, for the first time in several years, he was going to get fucked so good—
More like a week before, a very funny thing happened. When my knees locked from sitting and sewing on the floor, I determined that I am getting old!
I am getting good at hiding it, but man, my knees… my back… ouch and not from any good happy adult themed times! Sniffle.
But I carried on and turned a bunch of cardboard, and paper mache, spray pain, and a lot of found material into this …
You missed the blood, sweat, tears, and crying that went on to make this happen. Be thankful! LOL My best friend often called just to see if everyone had stuffed me into the closet yet. Sigh… misunderstood creative impulses.
But that was the hard part, the cutting, and measuring, and ripping apart and starting over…. the checks on make up and original art to get the characters right…
Oh! The characters! Let me see, SUPER HERO ROLL CALL starting from left to right we have…
Malani Burke as Female Thor… Time to Drop the Hammer Down!!
Stephane Burke as Karma from the MMO game League of Legends… my favorite quote from her is Guess What’s About to Hit the Fan?
Devlyn Burke as Draven from the MMO League of Legends… his quite, Welcome to the League of Draven…he’s that arrogant!
Austin Burke as Gohan from Dragon Ball… Kamah ammmah… Haaaaaaaaaa!!!!!!! LOL
There were others who declined to be in the photo, but that’s okay as I didn’t make theirs! LOL
It was a three day blast and so much fun that I hurt in ways I haven’t since child birth and I didn’t care! THere was much to see and do… so many friends, and of course, the Ladies Choice Henti Panel.
Usually, this is a panel that good friend and author PJ Schnyder and I do together, but this year PJ had to be called out of town unexpectedly. But PJ carried through and sent me the Power Point we use and some clips she wanted there. All I and to do was edit, add my own clips, and have fun. Well, that is not all. PJ as the most perfect roommate ever. Alex came in and helped my running tech for me. I could not have done that without him and I owe him big time. My blonde baby Alexis also loaned me one of her friends to help pass out promo and swag and keep people excited as there was a small delay in finding an AV cord for an apple…. Grumble! It it was all good. We managed to keep over 450 people excited and happy and the clips went over very well indeed… though we had a few guys escape when the yaoi started! LOL WE also had two guys take off their shirts and as usual the sounding out the erotic soundtrack for a clip! LOL Fun and embarrassment for all! LOL
Then it was photos and running around, and of course a bar trip or two, and more photos and the dealers room, and freinds who own businesses, running around….
every year I say I am too old to do this.. and every year I wind up doing more! LOL Now I guess I had better start getting suggestion for next years con. I hurt, I am sore, but I wouldn’t trade this time for the world. *g*
Okay, last one… one of my favorites… It’s call Art of War, War is my three eyed alien refugee trying to make it in this world with the help of his best friend and sponsor Joy. Meet War Ick Peace and Joy! *g* On, its rated R to be on the safe side and funny as hell! LOL
The Art of War
“I am through with men! I want you to shave a big honking sign on in my pubic hair that says tongue only!” “You shave,” War pointed out, never looking up from the magazine he was silently perusing while his favorite human being had yet another breakdown. “You made a point of brining that fact to my attention when you were explaining human sexual practices, yes?” “Then tattoo it on my butt for all I care! Just get it done!” Joy threw her arms up into the air; disgust plane on her face as she stomped about the large well lit room. “I don’t want to even look at something else with a dick one hand and a mouthful of lies pouring from its mouth.” “I—um, I have a dick,” War pointed out, lazily turning pages. He sighed and leaned down on his desk, elbows braced, doing his best to pay attention to the article he was reading. Maybe, tattooing with precious metals would be possible using the marking techniques his people used for warrior rites…. “Yes,” Joy stopped pacing long enough to point out, “but you don’t count!” With one last indignant stare, she stomped off towards the back room. Her voice was muffled but was clear enough for War to make out the words she shouted back to him. “You are like my best girlfriend and a big brother all rolled into one. And where I come from, you absolutely, positively, don’t screw around with family.” “I see,” War sighed and shifted positions, leaning heavier on his right arm as he turned the pages of the magazine, paying her words minimal attention. “I don’t know how it is where you come from on Diaagoba…” “Gigaphomalpha, yes?” he absently corrected. “Gagmealpha,” she called back, “But where I come from, you just don’t do your best girlfriend or your brother.” “What are you babbling on about?” War finally looked up. He raised one black eyebrow, his emerald green eyes shining in the dim light of the room as he finally took a good look at his business partner. The Joy who emerged from the back room was panting, her greenish-hazel eyes dull a she stared balefully up at him. Today, her short hair was left in a natural riot of curls that exploded around her head, held back with a multi colored headband done all in pastels. Her full figure was poured into a pair of aged denim jeans that emphasized the roundness of her hips and bottom while showcasing her long legs. As usual, she was sporting a t-shirt that bore the name of their unusual business, Art of War, in bold black letters that stood out against her full breasts. On her feet were her tall high motorcycle boots, showing her most recent mode of transportation for this week. The pale brown skin of her face and arms was flushed, showing both agitation with her current situation, and elation the wild ride she no doubt had getting in to work today. Her arms were crossed in agitation and her foot tapped impatiently as she glared at him. “I am talking about the male of the species, War-Ick Peace! I am talking about those who possess an x and y chromosome. I am talking about the testicle swinging, penis wielding, forked tongued speaking men!” “My tongue is forked,” War felt the need to point out. “And I do possess a penis, thought not the x-y chromosome, yes?” “I said you were a brother and a best friend, War!” Joy all but whined, stomping her foot in irritation. “You don’t count!” “Should I be insulted or relieved?” he mused as he sat back in his chair, rolling his green eyes at Joy. His blue one remained closed. Grumbling, Joy stalked over to War’s chair and gave the floating thing a nudge with her hip. “Be grateful,” she snorted, smiling as his blue eye opened and looked up at her form where it was comfortably situated on his forehead. “You don’t fall into the category of stupid male.” “So I take it your date did not go well?” he asked, closing his third eye, the other two focusing in on him as he settled back in his char, a small smile pulling at his full lips. “Understatement of the year,” Joy pulled out a chair and slumped down in it, pouting a little as she stared at her friend, “I didn’t think asses could exist without the benefit of a human body, but this guy was all walking ass. Probably why he used that strong cologne; trying to hide the shit smell.” War grinned at that description, as he waited for his friend’s tirade to continue. When she remained silent and brooding, he prodded her a little, poking at her with a long pale finger to the arm. “Are you going to tell me what this is about, yes? As a best fried/brother, I believe I am supposed to listen to you complain, then go and beat the guy who upset you into a bloody smear on the ground, no?” Joy responded by sticking her tongue at him, which was a gesture he returned, wiggling both sides of his fork independently, making her smile before she swatted the air in his direction. “Stop that! I’ll tell you as long as you stop making those obscene gestures.” War smiled, knowing he was able to help ease her tension a little. “So, tell me what happened.” “I told you about my date with Simon,” she began. “Yes, Simon the computer technologist who owned his own business, lived alone and not with his mother, and had not one but two degrees in computer engineering and business administration, yes?” “Yes,” she crossed her arm and narrowed her eyes. “That’s the one. Simon Prentic, educated small business owner and all around prick.” “What did he do?” “Well,” Joy growled, “He forgot to mention one little thing when we decided to go on a date.” “And that would be?” “His wife and three kids. All of whom I got to meet when we stopped off at Freezy Bites for ice-cream after the movie.” “No!” War gasped, all three eyes opening wide before narrowing in anger. “Why would he do such a thing?” “To get a piece of ass!” Joy wield, throwing her arms up in the air. “Add getting ass! That is so wrong” she shook her head, face twisted in anger. “And those poor kids. His wife entered as we were sharing a dentist special, you know the ones with gummy bears, strawberries, pineapple, chocolate, coconut, and caramel on top?” War nodded, face-growing solemn. “Yeah, well we were down to the caramel sauce and feeding each other bites when his daughter runs over, she had to be o more than seven, War, and she asks why he was eating ice cream instead of out of town on business. So then his wife walks up with a one year old twin on each hip.” “This was not good of him,” War shook his head sadly, reaching out to tug Joy close to his body, wrapping a brotherly arm around her. “Well, of course his wife was not happy. I think she slapped him so hard that his back teeth fell out.” Joy smiled a little at that, though the smile did not last. “Then she turned to me and called me a man stealing whore.” Joy shuddered but continued as she cuddled closer to War. “I jumped up and all I could say was that I didn’t know. She must have believed me because she just turned to Simon and slapped him again. Then he got up like he was going to hit her or something.” “What happened?” War urged, feeling her body tighten up at the memories of the past night. “I decked him in the jaw,” Joy smiled at that. “I didn’t mean to do it, it was more of a reflex than anything. But he was going to hit her while she had those babies strapped to her back. So I hit him instead…”she tailed off. “And, yes?” “And I knocked his ass thought the plate glass window,” she sighed. War blinked all three eyes at her, before a grin spread across his face, showing the double set of fangs that peaked out almost daintily from his upper gums. “I told you Gigaphomalpha marshal punching techniques wee helpful, yes?” “And I thank you daily for the lessons,” she smiled. “And I am not going to be sued for the glass as the owner is a fan of your work. I promised him a painting, War. He’ll be in later today.” War nodded, pleased to help out his best friend, partner, and sponsor. “And there will be no assault charges because it was self defense. The wife and half the place gave eyewitness testimony. And the cops carried Simon away in cuffs.” She shrank down once more and leaned into War’s shoulder, absorbing the radiant heat he seemed to throw off like some sort of alien space heater. “I explained to the wife that I had no idea that he was married. Told her that nothing had happened thought we had been talking for a week or so before this first date. She understood but was so broken up, War. I felt so bad for her and for her kids. But she said that she was moving out to her sister’s place, that she could not sty with a man who would raise a hand towards her, especially with his kids in plain sight. So I once again, hate all men and am going to turned into a butch bull dike, shave my head, and wear lots of flannel, and find me a lipstick lesbian to tease with my whip skills.” “Or you will dist yourself off and try again, yes?” War pointed out to her. “And you will not use those trite stereotypes, no?” “No,” Joy sighed, pulling herself away from War’s embrace. “No I will not use trite stereotypes and no I will not dust myself off and try again. I need a dating break. I need… I need to see someone else happy first.” She turned her head to eye War, a speculative look in her eyes. “Joy,” War stiffened. “I do not like the look on your face, no,” “I think you need to get out a little more, War,” “No, Joy,” War was starting to look panicked. “I do not believe I need to explore this human thing called dating.” “I know a lot of people who would find you very appealing,” her eyes roamed over his seated body. “Joy, no,” “It’s the third eyes, War, it gets women hot. And all of that blue streaked black hair….” “Joy,” War moaned. “And the forked tongue….” “And my floating chair, yes?” he arced the eyebrow again, his blue eyes staring challengingly at her. “People on your planet like refugee aliens who do not have proper use of their lower extremities, yes?” “Like they would care about that,” she snorted, waving the thought away. “You are seriously fine, War! You are so pretty, you damn near look like a girl! No one will care about the limited use of your legs.” “So you say,” he sighed, turning away from her for a moment, gathering his thoughts. It had been a long and difficult road that left him and the three hundred injured and recalled warriors to this small blue planet. War, as he now accepted as his new name, had been an Elite Commander, the highest rank a warrior not of royal blood could achieve. He commanded legions of men and women, all forged from the time of their conception to be the unstoppable warriors the Legion could be proud of. Swift of mind and strong of body, he and his elite forces had been key in the triumph of the Legion over the forces of the Goditch, the bug like people who destroyed the treaty between their two people in order to take over and command the Cama Galaxy, the place where they all hailed.
Tiger SHifters... Get 'em while they are so hot... as in NC 17....
Remember I told you I have Tiger Shifters? LOL WEll…. meet some of them! This is from Tyger Burning Bright… *G* It is unedited NC 17 thought, warning you! It’s hot! LOL “Oh my God, I don’t believe what my eyes are trying to tell me!” “What?” the voiced in her hear squeaked. “What, Judy? What happened?”
“I just saw… oh my God! I can’t believe it! And right next door too!” “What! What did you see? Judy, don’t make me come over there!” “Mona,” Judy panted, her chest heaving and her panties decidedly damp as she watched the two men leave her sight. “Live yaoi!” The squeal as her nest friend let out was almost deafening “I’m coming over!” “You are at work!” “I can get out early!” “They are inside now,” “Damn.” Judy cackled as she slammed the door to her Rent-A-Hauler truck and stepped onto the street in front of her new rental. “Damn is too weak a word,” she moaned, fanning herself with a weak hand. “You didn’t see my neighbors.” “Are they hot?” “Out of Men’s fitness,” she moaned, leaning against the closed truck door as she began to picture all of the nasty little…big things the two hunks were going to be doing to each other. “One seme and one definite uke…I think. Maybe they switch?” “I’m coming over.” “Mona!” “You need help unpacking and I need something pretty to look at. And are they right next door kind of neighbors or down the street neighbors?” “Next door.” “I’m bringing my video camera too!” “Mona!” “What? You not willing to share the eye candy? I’ll bring the wine.” “Make it two bottles,” Judy chuckled. “It was a lot to see and from what I can tell,” she peered at the house where the two beautiful men had disappeared, “They don’t have curtains.” “Need a roomie?” Mona chucked. “Go away,” Judy laughed, her amusement easing some of the tension in her aroused body. “And hurry up and get here.” “On my way.” Judy disconnected the phone and chucked as she looked around her. It looked like she moved into the perfect neighborhood. Well, she allowed as she rose up and made the shirt walk up the driveway to the front door of her new rental, it had the perfect scenery.”
“Harder!” Blake was moaning, his pleasure as his lover pounded into him harder. His arms were thrown over Krika’s neck; his legs wrapped around his lover’s waist as the man tightened his grip on his waist and began to pound him in earnest. “Kri!” he moaned, his head falling back as a his wild lover spread his knees further on the bed on which he knelt and braced him so he could give Blake was he was begging for. Blake gasped at each thrust, the small sounds of shock and pleasure forcing itself from his throat each time his lover’s balls slammed into his ass, each time his pelvis hit the cushioned cheeks of his ass, each time his lovers wide cock speared him to the fullest. He was lost in sensation, his head hanging back as he began to loose control of his body. He was barely aware when Krika moved forward, dropping his back to the bounding mattress so that he cold loom over him. The thrusts never stopped and neither did the words pouring for Kirka’s mouth. “Such a pretty little ass,” he praised, “—tight little hole you have for me.” His mindless chatter only added fuel to the flames of Blake’s desire as he stared deeply into the eyes of his lover, helpless mewls purring up from his throat. “Yes, baby,” he spoke in low tones, a groan in his voice as he allowed his ling red hair to envelop both of their faces. “You like this dick in your ass? You like this dick fucking your ass?” “Um hum,” Blake managed and that was about all he could. His body was shuddering, his muscles quivering under the steady onslaught of passion from Krika. “Yeah?” Kirak asked, slowing his body until his thrusts took on a serpentine grind that sent fire shooting through his body, “Yeah,” he breathed, his chest arching up as his form began to quiver uncontrollably. “Yeah, baby. Mmm.” Kirka finally purred. “Love my baby’s tight ass. Love how you grip me. Yeah, tight little hole.” Then suddenly he took up his pounding rhythm again. Blake let out a yowl and reached for his cock, desperate to ease some of the tension that was driving him mad. But Kria intercepted him. “No, pretty kitty,” he breathed, “You come on my dick alone.” Blake cursed in frustration before his eyes flittered shit as Krika shifted again, striking his prostrate and several nerves, making his body stiffen as the world began to spin madly around him. “Can’t!” he panted, his head grinding into the pillows behind him. “Can’t hold—“ “Let it go, baby!” Kirka demanded, increasing the already demanding pace of his thrusts, spanking Blake’s ass with his hips and he powerfully slammed into the smaller make. “Let it all go for me!” Blake was no panting, his hands helplessly digging into the bedding beside him as his fingertips began to tinge. “Krika!” he shouted as he felt his control slip and his stomach muscles tighten as a shocking pleasure began to fill him. “Yeah, baby,” Krika was shouting. “Come on. Let it go! Let it got baby.” A burning pain ran down Blake’s limbs and mingled with the pleasure as if one was dependant on the other. Both grew and spread when combined, the burning, the itching the throbbing and tearing. He could not take much more! He was going to—break! And when his control snapped, a sharp pain that was quickly lost in his pleasure buried his hands as long talons exploded, tearing into the bedding, sending tufts of cotton flying in the air around them. “Kria!” Blake roared his lovers name as his body froze in a tight arch, as his head snapped forward as his body tired to curl in on itself. He roared wordlessly as wide ivory fangs exploded from his upper jaw and the shadow of dark stripes flared up from beneath the surface of his skin. “Fuck yeah!” Kriaka was moaning as Blake’s body went wild beneath him. “Yeah baby! Le it all out! Give it up to me! Give it up now~!” And then without ever being touched, Blake’s thick cock exploded, sending streamers of pearly white semen spraying over the corded muscles of his chest. He roared again and threw his head back as his body seemed to free itself form all restraints and shook violently. The walls in his ass slammed down on the long hard cock penetrating him and it was all he could do to remember to breathe. “So good, baby,” Kirka was now purring, bending over him once more to lap at his neck, his hear, his chin, and finally at the blood that dripped form the side of his mouth from where his fangs tore through. His body was sensitized and each of Krika’s movements sent another shaft of pure pleasure zooming through his being. And Kirka was now going for his own release. Blake managed t open his eyes and look up as his lover’s skin took on a mass of white stripes, as his bared his teeth and his own ling fangs exploded, as the hands beside his head twisted and cured into something that was a cross between human and beast. Krika gave up his control and allows a partial shift even as his cock hardened further un in Blake’s ass before it began to throb and quiver. “Here it comes, baby,” Kiraka growled, his voice going deeper as the partial change solidified. “Here it comes!” Then Bake threw his hips up, tingling his hole around the formidable prick in his ass, pulling a shout from Kirka. “Yeah baby! Tighten around that dick! Clench down on it! Make me come!” The warm gush of Krika’s release was a soothing balm that exited as Blake whimpered his acceptance of the gift his lover bestowed upon him.
And Krika trembled above him; he reached up and pulled the larger male to his chest, a deep purr rumbling in his chest as he held his devastated lover. Slowly, he could feel Krika’s muscles relax and giving into exhaustion as he shifted slightly so that he full weight was not on the smaller make, but she still enveloped him, protected him with his body. “Perfect baby,” Kriaka moved again siding up so that he cradled Blake’s face in his neck as if sheltering him from the world, his own deep rumble of a purr joining with his lover’s.” They lay devastated in a mass of tangled hair, sweat, and exhaustion but both were completely satisfied, Blake knew that it would take some time for his outward changes to receded, but he didn’t mind so long as he was cradled comfortably in his lover’s arms. Unlike Krika who could change at will, it was always a struggle for Blake to let go of the chains he placed on his own body. He had no idea why this was so, but both Amur and Kira figured it had something to so with his particular species of extinct tyger. Caspian Tygers had been rare before Mongols invaded Russia and by the time he was discovered, he appeared to be the last one. He had no one to teach him the ways of his people so when he was discovered by the clan of Siberian’s who had taken him in, everything he learned about survival was based in instinct and need. Krika figured that he needed to hide what e was from the nomadic tribe who had found him, so therefore it was hard for him to relax his control of the change. But whatever the reason, he could change with a bit of effort, thought it took longer for him to return to his human shape. But none of that mattered right now. Right now the sun was shining thought he windows, the air was warm and fragrant with he smell of animal musk and raw sex, and he was comfortable lost in the next of hair and skin that was created by his lover. He would think more about things later, after a nap. And then his lover could tell him about this new border who moved in next to them and seemed oddly interested in the sight of two grown men kissing.
WIP's! Get them while they are... in progress! LOL
Wanna peak at some homeless unedited WIP’s? WEll… here you go! LOL
From A Murder of Crows: Damus… *g* “You want me to get to my father, yes?” Damus tilted his head as he stared down at the man who had tried to murder him and Arden. “We’re going to kill that bastard,” the man hissed, on his knees but not defiant. As soon as that coward comes out of hiding—“ “You court death, yes?” His black eyes were taking on a reddish cast and Arden felt her eyes widen, her heart race as the sound of her hard frightened breathing filled the room. “Fuck you,” the man roared, turning to Arden. “Bitch—“ “I—I-“ Arden stammered “Yes, you attack at the seat of our power, you attempt to draw the leader to defend his subordinates and you failed.” “Your time is coming,” he hissed. “You and your kind will—“ Blam The sound of the pullet echoed in the room, slightly louder than the spatter of brain matter and blood hitting the cold marble and the frightened shriek that Arden could not control. “You—you killed him.” She stared at Damus with new eyes, frightened of the man as she had never been before. He was not just some young crazy out to have a good time. He was s stone cold killer. She stared at him, his head still tilted to the side as he watched his enemies blood thickly coat his floors, showing no emotion other than an odd curiosity. “Hmm,” he nodded to himself before a familiar smile spread across his face. “They always die so easily,” then he turned to her with s shrug. “Nice gun—“ Y—you killed him.”“Why yes I did, Arden” He nodded at her before he added, “I killed him hard. That is why half his head is on the floor and his blood is very rapidly covering the ballroom floor.” “I—I’m going to be sick—“ Arden felt herself gag as the smell of blood and human waste settled around her. Her heart was pounding and a cold sweat broke out over her body. She was trembling and could not stop it as she watched Damus toss the tip on top of the body and walk towards her. “Arden—““You killed him!” she breathed slower, managing to hold down her stomach a gore continued to spread across the room. He could not stop her eyes from traveling to him and then back to Damus. “Yes, but he was bad, Arden. He was going to kill us first.” “He—“ “Did you think this was some kind of game, Arden?” he asked, tilting his head toe the side in that bird like manner he held, his black eyes flat and intent on her face. “I told you that I was a killer. I told you that I am ruthless when t comes to protecting what is mine. I told you that there could be no comprise when my life and the lives of those I love are at stake.” “But-but but you had him,” she protested weakly, unable to rise up off the floor to confront him face to face. “He was unarmed—defenseless—“ “He was never defenseless, Arden. His very nature was a threat to my existence, to your existence, to the existence of my father and my brothers, of all that I hold dear. And no he is no longer a problem.” “They are not even here!” she found herself shouting as her shock gave way to anger and fear. “They are not here and you killed him!” “Or he would have killed us Arden. Do you think that this is a game? Do you think he would have walked out, shook hands with us and peaceably returned to his home? Maybe come back later for tea and crumpet with my father, yes? “ He straightened his head and stared at her coldly. “No, Arden. He would have slit your throat the moment my back was turned or he would have returned to his people and told of my weakness… you. And they would have come for you Arden. With knives and guns, and weapons that you have never imagined in your human mind. Hey would have come for you and they would have taken you and what they would have done to you. Arden..” he sadly shook his head. “You don’t know that-““I know, yes, because that is what they did to my mother.” Her mouth shut with a snap. “”Yes, those same people, Arden. They would have done things to you that would make you beg for death. And they would be sure to return your remains to us so that we could experience the last moments of your life.” Arden felt the truth of his words and again her stomach turned. “I’m going to be sick—“ “Then my all means, do it here,” he encouraged with a nod. “My vultures have to come for the body and I am quite sure a little vomit will not turn them from their duties here and tomorrow the ballroom will be as pristine as ever, yes?”
before end chapter circumstance before they take Arden “You can’t buy me, Damus. I am not for sale.” The tossed the bolt of silk to the bed, her eyes transmitting ager better than any words of body language could. “Not for your silks or your jewels… My loyalty goes to those who deserve it.” “My father once told me to treat any woman I take to my bed as my queen, yes?” She stared at him as she thought back to all that she has been through—her life being threatened, the man getting his brains blown out, how her friend was warning her about these people and their shady business—It was all too much. “Then I abdicate the throne.” Her words stole his breath and left him standing there wide eyed as the fading echoes of the slamming door punctuated her departure.
Something was wrong with her. She knew not what it was, but it was clawing at her, making her want to scratch at her arms and howl at the moon.
There was a tingling — no, more of an ache — in the pit of her stomach that seemed to grow and intensify as her scant clothing pressed against her skin. It was an itchy feeling, a feeling that was growing every second, gnawing at her and making her ache for something she could not name or understand.
After he had been taken away, she’d had to fight with everything in her not to attack the handlers and drag him back where he belonged.
In her arms.
She fought against the urge to squeal and screech and howl as she was taken away from him to the bathing room and given a rough scrubbing to remove the male’s filth from her skin, her ornaments taken away and her scant clothing removed. Now, she sat in the large, warm area they’d set aside for her … waiting.
They had said they would bring him back to her, that he was on his way, but the knowledge just made the ache worse, made it turn into a dull pain, an aching pain that was slowly taking over her mind.
Her clipped claws dug at the soft dirt on the fragrant ground and she realized she was in the conservatory. The lush, earthy smell of the place only made her wish to run free, to climb trees, to scream wildly, and made the urge to force him to come to her even stronger. It was her right to be wild and free, and this need would have it no other way, would be satisfied with nothing less.
But for now, she curled up in a small ball, as deep in the trees as she could get, and waited. She wanted to be alone, alone except for him. For him, she was waiting, was biding her time, was longing and pining, and a lot of other things she could not understand or explain.
Her eyes were glassy and she felt almost drugged, a lethargy taking over her naked body that only made the ache all the more apparent. As she heard the first squeaks of the doors being opened, her heart lurched in her chest and her eyes sought out the opening, looking for him.
It made her grow wet, there, between her legs, where the swelling was the worst. Her breasts ached, her nipples hard buttons that begged for something that she could not give. Whimpering, she gently cupped each one, lifting it to take away the weight, to attempt to sooth the gnawing ache.
It was not helping.
But that was the first sight He-o saw as he was pushed into the area, the handlers quickly retreating as they dropped his restraints and slammed the door closed.
She looked up, confusion in her eyes as she stared at the male.
The reactions of her body, on the other hand, were anything but confused. His approach was met with a gush of wetness and an almost painful throbbing in her groin. She whimpered as her body crouched low, her hard nipples crushing against the leaf-covered ground. Her tail lashed hypnotically, rolling gently from side to side, drawing and holding his attention.
“You didn’t wait for me,” he purred as he dropped to his knees, carefully crawling toward her.
Please! Her mental voice sounded both eager and scared as her rear lifted into the air, the heady, musky scent of her filling his nostrils.
“Soon,” he purred low in his throat as he began to circle her.
Her body was a thing of beauty, not at all what he was used to — softer, but very feminine. Her soft, glowing golden eyes met his, a plea and a demand in them as she sniffed the air, marking his arousal for her and keeping him within her sight.
She might be in heat, but that was when a female was both most vulnerable and most dangerous. And, for a woman who contained the powers he felt she had, more desirable.
Her eyes followed him, marked his every move even as her whimpering increased. As her ass lifted further into the submissive offering position, he could see the sweetly swollen lips of her sex dripping with her need, almost pulsing in her want. Yet he still held back, knowing that any female needed more.
I offer you me, she purred, watching him as he circled her. I offer you everything that I am.
“You offer me much, female,” he returned. “Yet you have not offered me your name.”
What good is a name? I am in agony! You said you would fix this. Fix it!
“Demanding creature,” he chuckled as he moved in and finally nuzzled at her neck.
Ohh! she managed as a shaft of pure desire flowed through her belly and forced her knees to shake. Please!
He moved to carefully hover over her, nuzzling aside her long, silver-blond hair and licking his rough tongue over the sensitive skin of her neck.
Then, just as suddenly, she lashed out at him, a low hiss his only warning. She struck blindly, instincts taking over, as she began to fight him, forcing him to defend himself and prove his worth.
He hissed, arching back and barely avoiding the brush of her blunted nails. They might not be sharp, but at this level of closeness, she could tear out an eye or smash in his sensitive nose. His ears lowered tightly against his head as he growled, fire flying to his cock and pushing it from the sheath that housed him.
His female was fiery and tempestuous. Good. No one liked a tame ride, and from the way her body writhed beneath his, this ride would be most enjoyable.
Liger (Pride Talon 1)
Title: Liger Series: Pride Talon, Book 1 Publisher: Loose Id ISBN: 1-59632-027-3 Genre: Futuristic Now Available Loose Id ‖ ARe ‖ Kindle ‖ Nook Read an Excerpt Read Chapter One As a kit, she had be…
I was scared when he tightened the leather straps around my wrist, fastening them to the chain link fencing that glistened insidiously in the room full of leather. I was scared when he ran the leather of the waist belt though the same fencing, pressing my breasts into its cold, diamond embrace. My nipples instantly grew hard. I was scared when he locked my legs to the unforgiving metal at the top of my thighs, above my knees, and at my ankles. I was trapped. There was no place to run. My breath heaved loudly in the nearly silent room, almost drowning out the sound of the small vibrator that buzzed merrily in my pussy. It was long enough to tease, but there was no way I was going to get off with the annoying little toy. “Comfortable?” he asked. His footsteps slowly circled me. They sounded hard and unforgiving, like his stance on just about everything that had to do with me. Like his hard, muscular body, there was no give in his personality. He was straightforward and demanding, stubborn as hell and cruel as a devil. He ran one broad hand across my back, then down my spine to the quivering cheeks of my ass. As always, he was bent on taking total control. He leaned forward and whispered in my ear as he began to knead my ass cheeks. “I’ve always loved these.” I could smell his breath, always lemon and mint with a hint of vanilla, almost as well as I could feel the heat wafting off the skin of his bare chest. His nipples were hard. I could feel them against my skin. He was wearing leather pants thin enough I could tell he wore nothing beneath. That excited me, and I couldn’t help but shiver in reaction. He laughed then, knowing I was totally aware of him and of my vulnerable position. I would have glared at him, but the fucker had me positioned so it was uncomfortable to move my head. I could rest my right cheek against the fencing and see the rack of staffs, paddles and canes that he regularly took to my hide. Or I could rest my left cheek against the chain links and see the rolling table of toys I was sad to say I was all too familiar with. That, or I could push my head back and get a decent view of the metal and leather ceiling and the odd, soft lighting. “Your ass is magnificent.” He squeezed my cheeks again, pressing his dick against me. God, he was inhumanly hot there. “I love the way the bindings emphasize the roundness and fullness of it. Black is definitely your color, much better than those pinks and reds.” He moved back, and before I could guess what he was going to do there was a loud popping sound, and a starburst of heat exploded over my right ass cheek. I jerked at the unexpected pain. It was weak and dull, and only made me clench down on the vibrator within me, wanting more contact against my clit. “It’ll look so much better… stuffed.” He leaned back in to whisper that last word in my ear, before he parted my ass cheeks and ran one finger down my trench to my quivering hole. His free hand went into my hair, stroking my scalp gently. “You want this stuffed, don’t you?” I was not going to answer, and he knew it because the hand in my hair tightened into a fist. He yanked my head back, straining the tendons of my neck. I whimpered as I got a good look at his face, looming above me, shrouded in shadows and darkness. He loved this. His brown eyes glittered, and an evil expression crossed his almost patrician features as he inhaled deeply, scenting my pain and fear. He tightened his fist until little pinpricks of growing pain loosened my tongue and I gave him the actual word he wanted. “Yes!” I gasped, my body shivering deliciously at his dominance while my mind cursed me for being weak enough to give in. But he knew my body well, knew that after all the training he’d put me through, my ass would be as hungry for his toys and his cock as my pussy was. I shuddered, but not in shame. I was what he had made me. He had awakened these dark desires. I was a creature of his design. My hunger must have shown on my face because he laughed softly before releasing my hair, letting my head drop forward, my heart pounding, my breath racing faster than before, my sense of right and wrong — hell, my sense of up and down — all twisted up within my head. “Such a sweet little thing.” I felt him drop low behind me, felt his hard, unforgiving hands grip my ass cheeks and spread me wide. “So sweet.” His breath was warm against my hole, and damned if it didn’t begin winking at him. It was a trained response. I couldn’t help it. I was clenching my asshole and releasing it, begging for what I knew was going to come next. I didn’t have to wait long. He never denied himself his pleasures. I felt the tender brush of his broad nose against me right before the hot, liquid caress of his tongue. The mewl that tore from my throat was long, loud, and soul-deep. God, there are so many nerves in your ass! He had introduced me to this place of pleasure early on and he had taken great joy in training me to crave his touches and caresses there. And with the vibrator buzzing away happily in my pussy, the feel of his tongue eating me out was so intense that I nearly came on the spot. His tongue danced over my rosebud, each lap sending fire zinging up my spine. Gooseflesh broke out all over my body, and I shamelessly thrust my ass back into his face, hoping for a deeper caress. “All for me.” He blew his words against my twitching asshole before his pointed tongue began to circle my opening. My whole body had taken up a hard quiver, and I was damn happy that the four-inch heels he had me in were the wide ones that it took a lot to knock you off of. I wasn’t sure how sturdy the fencing was, and I didn’t want to test it, either. But the way he was playing my body… I could feel the sweat bead up in the small of my back, could feel my muscles tighten and release, the tension rising in the pit of my belly. He was pushing all my buttons hard, and I was helpless to do anything but hang there and let him.
Changeling Press - The Perfect Seasoning (Razor’s Edge)
Changeling Press — the best in Erotic Sci-Fi, Futuristic, Paranormal, Dark Fantasy, and Action Adventure love stories. Over 900 Erotica eBook titles available for immediate download as PDF, Microsoft R
How about some bears? I really like bears! From the upcoming How Not to Date a Bear, Too… here’s Teddy and Richard! LOL Its a little Rated Hard R and unedited, but I love my guys so I’m sharing! LOL
“I needed this in my life,” Theo sighed, his body limp as a dishrag as Richard massaged the kinks and twists from his back that he was no doubt responsible fore. “You needed fucked?” “I needed fucked,” Theo confirmed, groaning as he buried his face deeper into his mattress. Richard perched conformably atop his ass, digging his shoulders into his spine in a painfully blissful way of a deep tissues massage, snorted softly. “I think you needed to lose control.” “I am always in control—” Theo protested but was cut off as Richard reached a knot of muscle in his spine that he was coaxing free. “Except when you are getting fucked.” “I didn’t know,” Theo muttered, sinking deeper into the mattress. “I never get fucked.” “But you rolled over for me…” he trialed off, bending to press a kiss to Theo’s neck. “You are extraordinary,” Theo explained, reaching pack to pat one meaty thigh. Richard was built like a brick shit-house, as the saying went. “How could I not?” “I want to see you again.” Theo paused. He wanted more than anything to scream yes and give the man a key to his house. But he knew that would not be responsible… as he was a father. “You don’t know how badly I want to see you again—“ “But?” the massage stopped as Richard climbed off his ass and before he could blink, flipped him over so he was on his back, his hair a mad tangle around his head, his gold eyes staring up earnestly at him. “But I have duties I have to think about first.” “Married?”
“God no,” Theo wrinkled his nose. “Seeing someone else?” “No?” “Family not know that you’re gay?” “Out and proud,” Theo smirked. “And a father.” Richard just stared. Theo burst out in laughter. “You have children?” “Child,” he corrected. “I have a son.” Theo reached for a photograph on the bedside table. “Mowehhnk,” he explained. “My reason for everything I do.” Richard took the photo and Theo smiled as the man’s expression softened. He knew he was looking at him and his son waving happily up at the camera. Both of their long hair was flying in the wind and to pairs of identical gold eyes glinted happily. “He is adorable,” Richard grinned before looking down at him. “What does his name mean?” he asked, running his finger over the photograph. “It is Russian, I presume as you are a Polar Bear?” “Little mischievous one,” Theo grinned proudly. “I named him after I held him for the first time… and he managed to pull out a handful of hair while looking innocent and new. The mane fit, but he us too calm and observant to cause any intentional mischief.” “His mother?” Theo’s smile melted. “Dead,” he answered his voice gone flat. “I am sorry.” “Don’t be,” Theo grumbled. “She was a bitch and her only redeeming quality was that she managed to incubate my child.” “Okay,” Richard nodded and Theo relaxed as he realized that he was not going to be inundated with questions. “Family is all?” “Family is all,” he nodded in agreement. “I want to see you again, but I am not sure if you don’t want the whole package.” “I respect that,” Richard nodded. “So I am going to tell you what I am going to do. I am going to leave my card here. It has my home and cell numbers. I really want to see you again, but the decision is up to you, Theodore. If you want to see me again, call. Until then, no pressure.” “No pressure?” Theo reached up and wrapped his arms around Richard’s neck, pulling him down to lick at his lips. “From where I am laying,” he ground his hips up into Richard’s groin, pressing his growing erection to his. “I am feeling a lot of pressure at the moment.” “I think it would be my pleasure to relieve you of some of it,” he responded, pressing back and pushing his tongue inside Theo’s mouth. And then there was no talking, only moaning and screaming, for a good long time. And when Richard finally walked out the front door, he left a tired, sated, boneless Theo on the bed and a plain black hard with his information on the bedside table.
Its time for you Hump Day Humps!!!! I am so behind…. So I am going to post a few humps for your enjoyment! *g* First up… a little unedited Rated R bit from my upcoming Razor’s Edge from Changeling Press… Greek Style! LOL Man, those goat boys… LOL
Part the First
So much urine… That was the only thought that went through May’s mind as she recalled her trips to the children’s petting zoo so long ago. There were pygmy goats going into heat and there was urine everywhere. So now as she was tied to a tree watching a field full of goat legged men dance and sing, she was both fascinated and horrified by the prospect of watching them mate. Of course it wasn’t her fault that she was tied to this particular tree. No one ever warned her that wondering around the mountings of Cephalonia on her vacation to Greece would ever end up like this. She only wanted to see poppy fields for goodness sake. No one warned her about roving bands of fauns and satyrs and mating season. She didn’t mean to crash their party, so to speak. She had just been taking photos and marveling at such majesty of the Island that was said to be the home of Odysseus when she stumbled upon them in their poppy field of lust. She couldn’t understand a word of what they were saying, but a bunch of goat legged men carrying spears would be enough to grab and hold anyone’s attention. She was so stunned by this discovery that she never noticed the two … well… bucks maybe… walking up behind her until they had her roped and hog-tied like the prize attraction at a 4H show. They began babbling at her and she began screaming at them. That didn’t help matters, she was now willing to admit, because that got her tied to the tree and gagged with cloth. And now she sat there, watching them build up a barn fire—burning poppies and what smelled suspiciously of marijuana—and dancing around like they had no sense. She just wanted to go home. Forget going back to the hotel, she wanted to go home. There were no goat legged men at home. There were no burning poppy fields making her feel like she was stuck in a Cheech and Chong movie. And there was defiantly no mystical creatures carrying spears standing guard over her. It was enough to make a woman cry… if she wasn’t so damn high. But before she could further contemplate her pitiful state, she saw one of the shorter males clip up to her. She spoke softly to the huge guards and they grunted something. This one was one that she classified as a fawn. He, for his naked excerpt for his fur state, left that abundantly clear. About her height of five feet four inches tall, he looked to be a bit gentler than the ones she classified as satyrs. The major difference in heir classification scheme was that the ones she considered fawns had smaller branched horns, like deer antlers and cute drow type ears… the really elongated and going back elf ears that costumes seemed to love. The satyrs on the other had had massive curled ram’s horns on either side of their head. Their ears hung low like goats and the dudes were massive. They all stood at lease six feet four inches tall and were more heavily muscled than their fawn counterparts. In fact, it was the fauns who were dancing and having a blast white the satyrs looked on protectively with their big spears, their big muscles and their big … well, hung like horse could have been hung like a goat. But no one was pissing on anyone so that was a good thing in her book. The fawn approaching her had a head full of long curly golden brown curls that matched the matt of curls that covered his groin and legs. His cloven hooves were almost dainty when compared to the soup plates the satyrs clomped around on. His eyes were a gentle brown and he offered her a tentative smile. “Kalós órises?” “Mum gohn.. uuhuhang…” she tired to say she didn’t understand, but, you know, gagged. His eyes widening in what looked like amusement to her only made her bite down on her gag and glare. He reached out with his piano players hands and fingers and in a few seconds the gag fell away from her. She opened her mouth to let him have it but good, but a clearing throat made her look up at one of the guards who was staring down at her, his expression dark. It was then that she decided that maybe yelling at the small guy was not such a great course of action after all. Instead she glared as he repeated his question. “Kalós órises? Pós légeste?”
“I don’t know what that means,” she muttered through her dry mouth. Who knew being gagged with cloth would day you out so. All the gags she had at home for uh, recreational purposes were latex or rubber and made her drool more than anything else. He tilted his head to the side and against her will; she had to admit that he was quite adorable. His cuteness level dropped suddenly when he reached into a belt at his waist and produced a ground up looking weed and then stared at her intently. “Wha—Hey!” She tired to squirm away but the little guy was fast. Before she could blink, he was holding her head steady. He must have grown a few extra sets of arms because a hand was forcing her mouth open, shoving the thing inside, closing her mouth and rubbing her throat it seemed all at the same time. She tired to hold her breath, but the plant thing was making her mouth water. He pinched her nose and that was all that she wrote. She swallowed the thing in one gulp. “Oh great,” she whimpered when he released her. “High, surrounded by goat boys, and now I’ve been poisoned.” “The Goji berry and Althaea leaves will not hurt you.” “Fat lot you know,” she mumbled as he continued to stroke her throat. You’re a goat and…” She could understand him. I can understand you,” She knew her eyes were wide with shock, but she didn’t really care. She could not understand what goat boy was saying and that was really disturbing her. “That is why I gave you the herbs,” he sounded smug. “Why am I here?” “You have treaded on sacred ground, human,” he stared at her as if she were a few donuts shy of a dozen. “How was I supposed to know that?” she sniffed. “Its not like I am from this stupid island. I just wanted to see the mountains and maybe a poppy field or two.” The sun was setting at it made his golden eyes glow in an ungodly way. But then, she was talking to something that looked like a Christian’s nightmare of a pagan sexual deity. “It has been determined that you are definitely not of the indigenous people,” “What? My dark skin and afro give me away?” she snipped, glaring hard. “You have the skin tone of one from the African Islands,” he noted. “Not from here.” “Africa is a content, goat boy,” she snipped. “Not an island. Its way bigger than that.” “But you do not speak any dialect we know. It sounds almost like Latin, but is Germanic and fixed with cadence and undertones we do not understand. That is why it was decided to give you the learning herbs. They stimulate your brain and have the ability for us to psychically input our language. This is how you can now understand our words.” “I am American,” she sighed. “I am a Black American in Greece and I am tied to a tree. This is kidnapping and wrongful imprisonment and I don’t know what else it is, but it has to be illegal. Let me go.” “American,” he mused his cute little ears wiggling. “I have never head of your people, but what you have done is broken the lay. This is our sacred mating rite and you have contaminated our fields.” “I didn’t know. And… oh,” she slumped a bit. “Ignorance of the law is no excuse for breaking the law.” “Yes,” he nodded. “But I am not exactly a citizen here.” “And that is why you have not been put to death.” She froze at that. “Death?” “To interrupt the mating right is to court death. Male vitality is not to be shared among the women. You have to give back what vitality you stole.“I didn’t—“ “Your presence enough has stolen vital energies we need to reproduce. You must give it back. “How and I supposed to do that?” Suddenly every thing she ever read about bloody sacrifices was coming to the forefront of her brain. She paled as she stared at her cute little goat boy. Cute little goat boy was going to kill her. “Why, sex,” he grinned. “The very thing you interrupted.”
Can Dolton and Dean withstand the rain of opposition when they come together and cross the line of scrimmage?
Dolton is a strong black man, confident in what he wants in life and how to get it. The adjunct professor at Northeastern University has multiple degrees andhas travelled the world, learning from the people he observes. So why is it that blond hunk Dean Majors has his mind twisted, his cock hard, and his reactions all out of whack? Dolton knows he has to have the beautiful man, and will do anything to get the long-haired god in his bed and in his life.
Dean Majors is a construction worker by trade and the heart of Team Griffon. He is not closeted gay man, but he doesn’t advertise is orientation, either, something he is happy about when his old friend Robbie Keton joins the Griffons. Robbie’s negative attitude is something he has to distance himself from, especially when he realises he has a more than man-sized crush on the team’s uber-intelligent and exotic middle linebacker, Dolton Pride.
Together the two men are a potent fire, their lust burning hot. But can it withstand the bitter rain of opposition and threats that threaten their happiness when they cross the line of scrimmage?
And from Changeling Press… How Not to Date a Changeling…
Lieutenant Colonel Taylor Martin only wants a place to rest and recover from his injuries in Afghanistan. But an eerie screaming filling the night makes him weary and curious. The one thing the ex Marine can’t abide is a mystery.
Cordelia Snow is a writer — and a changeling — and doesn’t have time for foolish mortals. But when Taylor tries to win her trust with chocolate and baked goods, she can’t resist the tall Marine with the bad limp.
But now that she has him, has shared her own dark past and learned of his own, shared the sensual delights and mysteries of their bodies, how can she ever give him up?
Nice, huh? *g* I think so! I hope you will too!
Where did the idea come from for the book?
This is the fun stuff…. In The Red Zone came from a challenge. You see on my Facebook,
https://www.facebook.com/TheFlashCat every Wednesday I host the Hump Day Hump… where I post photos of some very… uh hum… intelligent and fascinating young men in some eye-catching poses… yeah, that’ll work. And in the midsts of his Voyeuristic delight, I challenge some of my favorite authors to create a story with the most wild photos I can find. In this case, I got challenged right back by Wendi Zwaduk who dragged Cheryl Dragon… Cheryl Dragon… Hey Mama! another favorite target, into the mess. After Wendi cracked the whip… and can I just say OUCH… Out of Bounds was born. *g*
As for How Not to Date a Changeling…. I blame Barb Hicks….Barb Hicks… Bad Barb is in the house and her fascinating Inside the Writer Studio type chats on Writerspace… okay, its a perverted free for all. And I missed one chat, just one, and my readers went wild and demanded that I create How Not to Date a Changeling as an addition to the series. Several people were dispatched to inform me that I would be writing this book and BLAM, history… and abused changelings, were made. *g*
3: What genre does your book come under?
Believe it or not, In the Red Zone is M/M Contemporary… Yes, the gay light bondage sex with real… well as real as I could make them, minor league foot ball players! WOOT! Sexy man on man smexy action here! No powers, aliens or shape shifting sheep. It was a hard reach for me, but I think I pulled it off! LOL
Now How Not to Date a Changeling… long titles on this series… is paranormal contemporary… magic fae folk and that’s the way we like it, un huh, un huh! LOL
4: Which actors would you choose to play your characters in a movie rendition?
ACK! I don’t know!… Welll if I had to guess and you insist, yes I know, you do you do…
Shemar Moore as Dolton and Channing Tatum as Dean… Oh man, that’s hot! LOL
As for How Not to Date a Changeling, I see Parker Hurly as Taylor Martin and Gabrielle Union as Cordelia…
Okay, so maybe I put a little thought into it! LOL
5: What is the one-sentence synopsis of your book?
For In the Red Zone…Hot Hungry bondage sex beats out ignorance ever time.
And for HNTDA Changeling… my carpal tunnel was acting up typing that over and over… Beware the screams from next door, for a hot horny changeling might make you a sex slave. LOL
6: Is your book self-published, published by an independent publisher, or represented by an agency?
Publised by Independent Publishers… Total E Bound and Changeling Press… two of my many awesome publishing houses…and yes that sucking sound was me sucking up hard! LOL
7: How long did it take you to write the first draft of your manuscript?
Two weeks on both books. I can work hard when motivated and Wendi is scary. LOL
8: What other books would you compare this story to within your genre?
Well for In the Red Zone… other two books in the Anthology…Making the Pass and Crossing the Line. *g*
And for HNTDA Changeling… I can’t think of any book like it. It deals with some complex issues that I hope I brought across in as sensitive and non offensive way as possible.
9: Who or what inspired you to write this book?
Wendi’s whip and that awesome photo of those footballers kissing surrounded by their team. I would post it but I am afraid to be sued. LOL
And for Changeling… reader wrath! I admit it, I am scared of my readers. They are awesome but I don’t want to test them! LOL Kidding, Loves! I love you all!
10: What else about your book might pique the reader’s interest?
It’s a Stephanie Burke book! And that mean its filled with fun and adventure, a laugh or two, a workable moral, and as always, a happy ending. *g*
A while ago, I was playing with Orcs. And I came up with this awesome word for Renaissance E books Sizzler Editions…
The Difference Between… Chapter One
The flap to the tent ripped open surprisingly easy. But then, Vizri didn’t expect much from a human. The dim light in the tent did nothing to hamper his vision. Orc eyes were designed to be useful in the dark tunnels that spawned their ancestors as well as the bright sunlight in which the multitudes of humans dwelt. It was a good thing his eyes adjusted so quickly because almost as soon as he entered, he had to duck to the right as a pale blur flew at him from out of nowhere. He shifted his weight and gripped his ax but something, some odd instinct made him stay his hand. Unlike the confusing humans, Orc’s always followed their instincts. So he gripped the hilt of the great weapon strapped to his back and he instead traced the blur with his eyes. It was a human, a small one. At least it looked; he inhaled deeply, his nostrils flaring, and nodded. It was human, small…wounded. He was deciding if he should just put it out of its misery when it turned and snarled at him. He could not stop his brow-hair from rising as he stared at the pitiful creature. Although it never showed in his expression, this delighted him. This tiny small thing behaved in an appropriate alpha-type manner. It was refreshing. The small thing looked underfed and wild as he glared at him, its small chest heaving as its eyes tracked rapidly around the room, looking for an escape route while keeping him firmly in view. He tilted his head to the side and relaxed his stance as the small human snarled again. There was a table between him and the small human, so he decided he had time to test a theory that had been raging along the lower courts of his chiefdom for years. Were humans intelligent beings, capable of instinctual thought or were they just evolution’s joke. He moved forward and unclasped the human weapon, a sword, from his side. He had meant to bring it as a present to one of his wives who loved trinkets like that, but now it would do well to serve a purpose. If the small human could pass his test he would not put it out of its misery. If it actually reacted in the correct instinctual manner, then he might take it home as a pet and spare its life. One of his thirty-seven wives might like an intelligent toy to fetch and carry. The sword was laid on the table and he stepped back to watch the creature’s reaction. When it just stood there, glaring at him, eyes still darting around the tent, he reached into another pouch at his side and withdrew a small-jeweled dagger. He had taken it from the treasury of the human in charge and thought that it could be bent and pounded into something useful, like a bit of jewelry for one of his wives or for his consort. He moved forward and laid that on the table as well. Still the small creature didn’t move, but its eyes were darting back and forth between him and the weapons. Finally Vizri unwound a heavy steel bolo from around his waist, dropping that beside the dagger before he stepped back. There, he had given the creature three options. He would wait and see if it was intelligent enough to realize that he had given it a choice. As he waited, he examined the pitiful thing, noting the difference between human and Orc. It had none of the advantages that nature had given the Orc for survival, which led many to speculate that humans were Nature’s big joke. It had thin skin, which he could see blood pumping through its veins. Its ears were rounded and placed on the side of its head, not sharply arched and placed on top so that they could easily pick up the sounds of enemies approaching or sneaking around. It had no claws for defense, no horns for intimidation, and worse of all, it had no protruding lower tusks. How could it properly mate if it could not gore its female into ecstasy? Humans were a strange breed that had managed to grab a foothold in the Orc territory. They were annoying and curious, but not considered too dangerous by some. But according to Vizri’s philosophy, any creature that was smart enough to try and establish its own territory within the borders of a greater Chiefdom was worth keeping under control. He dropped his internal musings when the creature finally made its move. As expected, it went for the largest most flashy of weapons on the table. It went for the sword. Vizri sighed and reached for his ax prepared to deliver a swift death to the stupid creature when it flung the sword at him. Instinctively, his eyes followed its path as he stepped out of its way, his right arm already behind his back on the hilt of his upturned ax, when he felt the blow. He looked down and for the first time since he and his consort picked out their first wife, he smiled. The small human had used the sword toss as a distraction. While he was occupied with stepping out of the path of the poorly flung weapon, the small creature had grabbed up the dagger and slammed it into his side. It was what he got for underestimating a creature he had argued on several occasions not to underestimate. Of course Orc skin was too tough for a mere human blade to penetrate… He looked down at the small human and the sinister smile that spread across his normally stoic face made what was left of the angered red flush on the human’s cheeks fade away. Curious, he decided as he watched the new color rushed in the human’s face nearly seconds after it paled. Orc skin came in several shades of dark brown to black, rich and beautiful earth tones, nothing like the pale imitation of land that the human’s possessed. He had a feeling that you could tell what a human was thinking by the color its skin turned, a decided disadvantage in battle. But this human, instead of running away in fright, tried to jab the dagger in harder, its snarl even more pronounced before he released the hold on his axe and gently swatted it into a pile of furs that he assumed passed for a bed. Uncouth creatures, human were, he decided. But this one, this one was different. It glared at him from the pile of brown fur, its nearly white blue eyes showing hostility and a small amount of fear. “Your name?” he finally asked, watching as those eyes widened and a strange look came over its face. “N—Name?” he stuttered, obviously not expecting him to be able to speak in the human tongue. He grunted his assent; the Orc language was more about tone and force when you spoke. The language was a complicated series of grunts, clicks, and growls that were more straightforward than the lilting sounds that humans used for words that danced around a topic. Frankly, several human languages were easy to understand and his warriors were required to speak several of them before they were deemed fit for battle. It would not do to have your enemy shouting orders to change formation or to pass along information in battle that you could not understand. They used the knowledge of human language to their advantage in several decisive battles and held their abilities closely to themselves as a major battle secret. Therefore very few humans knew Orcs could understand human. “Name, small human,” he leaned forward, delighted when the snarl came back to the human’s mouth and all traces of fear fled his eyes. “Whore.” Vizri blinked as the small human spoke. Maybe his knowledge of this particular human dialect was not complete. The small human was named for a cheap and easy being of no honor or breeding? “Whore?” “Whore,” it snapped, rising to his feet, standing tall before the greater might of the Orc warrior. “That is what they call me.” “Curious,” he muttered, gesturing for the creature to approach him. It smelled young, he decided, looking it over. It was dressed in a few leather rags that tied around its waist and hid almost nothing. Its long blond hair was braided and beaded with several bells and colorful balls, like it was some exotic toy. On its wrists and ankles were jeweled cuffs, and of all things a leather collar around its neck, like it was some beast of burden. Reaching out, Vizri gripped both its hands and spun it around, noting the bruises and what appeared to be lash marks on its back. The small human began to scream and kick when he did that, biting at his hand and kicking to pull itself free. Vizri liked its reaction. It lost its scant clothing and Vizri discovered that the creature was a male, a small male. Maybe it was not fully grown, but one could never tell about humans. Some of them were excessively short. But it…he was fighting even in the face of a greater challenger. And its instincts seemed to be sound, even if it lacked the biting tusks and the tearing nails that would injure him. His plans solidified in his mind, he hefted the small human male in his arms and carried him out to where the remaining humans were herded. There were the amused grunts of his warriors as he carried the spitting fighting creature towards its contemporaries, but they gathered around to see what was happening. Vizri didn’t stop until he approached the most elaborated dressed and jeweled human, therefore the leader. When he stood before the gaping creatures, he tossed Whore into the snow at their feet. “Whore?” he asked, and suddenly the dark expressions on the human’s faces lighted considerable. “Yes, whore!” the man exclaimed, stepping forward, pushing his own people aside as he made his pleas. “Whore. Please, take him, Take what you want. Just let me and my people live.” “So, you would give the life of one small human in order to protect yourselves?” The human looked shocked at his grasp of their language, but he quickly overcame that, smiling and nodding. “Yes! Yes, take him! He’s a strange one, nothing but a whipping boy and a whore.” “So, you would sacrifice this small one,” Vizri snorted, chewing on his bottom lip with his front teeth, a sure sign of irritation if one was familiar with Orc behavior. “You would easily give up the life of one of your own in order to save yourself?” “He is useless!” The human snorted, sneering at the tiny human who had so impressed him. The small male glared back and spit on the ground at his feet for good measure. The leader looked as if he would like to deliver a kick to the small one, but continued to babble instead, “He is nothing.” “Yet, he is human.” Vizri continued. “But a worthless one!” the man insisted. “He is not strong or wise like my brave sons,” the man insisted. “He is not of my blood, he is a thing to do with what we will. And I will him to you if it will save me and mine.” “But…is he not one of yours?” “No! Take him! He is more than his weight in value if his life spares mine.” “Begin the slaughter.” The human gaped at him clearly not understanding the command. “But…but the whore…?” “Did not offer me his body or your lives to spare himself some hurt.” He stepped forward, disgust clearly on the planes of his body as he snarled down at them. “Yet you, who are supposed to be leader here…” “I am! I am the leader!” the man insisted. “It is my right to give him to you!” “And thus it is not fit for your weak blood to exist on this land,” He stepped back, his hand on the human’s head. “You would sacrifice one of your own for the sake of your own weak offspring? You would give one of your own away to save yourself? You should have fought for him. You should have done anything you could, fought any battle, to save each and every one of your kind. Each life is precious, human. And as a leader, each one, any one is worth dying to protect. Yet you are offering one of your own to me? To save your own miserable lives? I cannot allow such weakness to perpetrate. “ Turning to his men, he ordered, “Slaughter him and his sons…and the rest of this— this human trash.” He gestured to the people who hid behind the leader. “Not one of them stood up for the one they named whore. All of their lives are forfeit. Slaughter them all and burn the rest. Nothing of them deserves to remain to mar my land in the future.” There were screams of protest and one of his warriors reached out for the whore, but Vizri stayed his hand. “No.” he shook his head as he watched the human leader fall to his knees as the blood of his people stained the snow red. “Not this one.” He looked down at his little captive and snorted in amusement as he spit in the snow at the leader’s feet once again. “This one shows honor, despite what these others of his kind have done.” Then he lifted his arm and showed his second the hole in his side where the dagger parted the material of his tunic. “If he had skill, he may have broken the skin…a little.” His second looked impressed. “This one?” he grunted in Orc. “Follows his instincts.” The second in command stared at the small human and smiled as the small human snarled at him, ignoring his nudity and the cold of the snow. He bared his human teeth and growled. “Impressive,” his second nodded and turned to the kneeling human. Both Vizri and Whore watched as first the man’s sons and then the leader himself were beheaded, their bodies tossed into a blazing pile of debris that his warriors had already started. The small human watched as well, no trace of weakness, disgust, or even righteousness, on his face. He just stared, observed, and learned. As the stench of burning human flesh filled the air, Vizri turned to the small human and grunted. “Rotic,” The human turned to look up at him, his eyebrows raised. There was still no fear in his face, no disgust at the bloodshed of the slaughter, and no shying away from death. He showed neither joy nor anguish at the leader’s demise. “Rotic?” he asked, looking confused. “Your name. It’s Rotic.” “Rotic,” the small human exhaled and nodded, his eyes still curious as he looked at the death all around him and the one being who probably had shown him more courtesy that he had in his whole life. “Rotic.” Vizri grunted. “My first…son.” A look of joy filled the small human’s face before a blank look filled his face. But his eyes, his eyes were filled with untold joy. That same blank look was on his face when Vizri wrapped him in a fur and settled him on the front of his six legged riding beast, though his odd pale eyes glittered with joy. It was a successful campaign in Vizri’s mind. He had wiped out the largest infestation of weak humans in his lands, he gained wagons of furs and metals, and he gained his first son. This day had not been too bad at all.
Do you remember Dragon’s Star from Red Rose press? Sci-Fi paranormal fourson with dragons? I am almost finished the last installment… I know, took me long enough! LOL Here is the introduction… Chapter 1
She trembled as she cowered in the corner, praying against all hope that the scabs chasing her would not see where she had taken to hiding. Her back ached and her head pounded, but it was her overwhelming fear that overrode the physical discomforts and helped to make her so miserable. It was the fear of the knowing what was chasing her that terrified her so. The scabs… She was lucky to escape their first notice alive, and she knew it. What they would do to her if they caught her? The thought was horrifyingly unthinkable. So she huddled deeper into her corner, bending and contorting her feverish body so that it melded with the shadows, hiding all and offering her the illusion of protection. This physical camouflage was nothing new to her. She had perfected hiding in plain sight when she was but a youngling. Out here in the desert lands, you either learned to conform or you were set out for the scabs. Even hiding, the sound of the many scurrying feet heading in her direction caused her to panic. Her heart leapt in her chest, and her breathing rapidly increased to the point where she was in danger of hyperventilating and passing out on the rocky ground. Remain calm, she thought to herself as she forced herself to calm down, to take shallow breaths, to use her mind and think. There has to be a way out of this. But her mind went blank. She could do nothing but stare wide-eyed into the dark, listening with building terror as they drew closer and closer. I don’t want to die, she thought as her trembling hands clenched into fists of impotent fury. She was not ready to die! Death was so…so final! She was scared of that unknown more than anything else. She forced her mind to stop spiraling down in that morbid cycle. It would drive her mad. If she had to die, she would face it honorably. But that was very cold comfort. Still, she would try to face it honorably, with a decided lack of whimpering and cowering. She knew she had to do this, but did she possess the strength? As the clicking sounds of the inevitable drew closer, small whimpers began to unconsciously escape her mouth with each breath. Suddenly, she realized that she had no time to find her bravery. Suddenly, it was too late. As she watched, paralyzed in sheer terror, a long muzzle and a pair of glowing yellow eyes peered into the shadows inches in front of her face. Losing control, she opened her mouth and a scream of pure terror filled the air. “IEEEEEEE!” Through eyes so wide the whites dominated the pupils, she watched as the creature blinked twice then opened its mouth to reveal a gaping maw filled with razor sharp teeth. She was going to die! Fear created a metallic wash in the back of her throat and her heart felt as if it was sliding up her chest and out of her mouth! She stared as that dark cavern of a mouth drew closer and closer and then…then… Then it yawned. The thing that was staring at her with those evil yellow eyes yawned as if it were bored! Her shrieks stopped mid-echoing-scream as she realized that the thing was not tearing into her, rending her body to shreds. She blinked, fascinated by what this thing was doing. Was it a scab? Was it here to feast on her still warm innards while she screamed in sour rending pain and begged for the release of death? Was it really yawning again? “Are we through?” it hissed at her. She stared wide-eyed as it peered closely at her, raising one eyebrow in her direction. “Are-aren’t you going to…to eat me?” she stammered, her body still trembling with fear. “Maybe…” it drawled. “But only if you ask nicely,” it replied and began to rise. And rise, and rise, and rise! “Gods!” she gasped as the thing towered over her. It was as big as a house! It snorted once, a plume of white smoke flowing from it’s left nostril as it again arched one eyebrow at her. “Not quite,” it leered as it swiftly lowered its head to peer at her again. With its long neck easily bent to her level, she could see its eye was easily as large as her whole head. Gods, but she never even noticed it’s sheer size when she had first glanced at it. Now she stood, watching this…this thing as it stepped back from the shadows and exposed itself in the dim light of the lowering suns. It was white: blinding bright white that seemed to reflect the light around it. It’s serpentine body looked scaled, yet soft as it again rose to its full height and shuddered. All at once, goosier wings exploded from its back and it lowered itself to its front…legs. She blinked as she realized that it had been standing on its rear legs, balancing perfectly as it seemed to ready itself for something. “Are you coming?” it asked politely, turning to look at her yet again. “What…” she gasped as she slowly rose to her feet. What was this creature? “You have wings?” it asked politely. “Wings?” she stammered as the ache in her back increased, making her wince and clutch at her hips. “I can smell you,” he hissed again, its brow wrinkling in…consternation? “You are almost ripe for the plucking.” “Plucking!” she gasped. It was her total lack of interest in plucking that had gotten her cast out into the desert lands into the first place! She had never felt the desire to reproduce like the other women. Her refusal to let a man choose her for the ritual was what had gotten her into this nightmare to begin with. Not that she was a stranger to trouble…after all, a little foundling child had to accept whatever lot life delivered to her. And usually she was quite good at obeying her adoptive father. But to mate with his first son? The barbarian? The bathless wonder? That was too much for anyone to ask of any female. So she found herself pulled out of her sickbed and paraded before the council. Justice was swift and unexpected. Because several men on the council had been refuted at her hands, they sought revenge the best way they could. Banishment. So now she had an aching back, no home to go to, the threat of scabs picking at her bones, and this…this thing wanted to pluck her! “What are you?” she gasped as the pain in her back nearly bent her double. “Have your people taught you nothing? Who is your family? Why must I need travel so far to find my mate?” it asked almost absently. “Family? Travel? MATE!” “Mate,” the thing sighed, as it seemed to look to the heavens for guidance. Shaking its head sadly, it said, “And the young ones used to be better trained than this. What is the world coming to?” “Mate!” she shrieked again. “What are you?” “Um…your mate.” he replied after a moment of thought. “What?” “Your blood mate, woman! And I have searched long and hard for you! If I had not picked up on your distress, you would still be lost to me.” “My distress?” Was this huge, walking, house-sized thing trying to be sarcastic? Was it playing with her? Was this all a big joke? “You are the one who is distressing me right now!” “Well, I think that I am the better choice when it’s between me and those twelve legged creatures who are on your trail right now.” “Twelve…” As her words eased off, she realized the she could hear the clicking and the shrieking sounds of the scabs. They were coming for her. She stared at the creature, which although fearsome and quite large, had yet to show any desire to eat her, and then in the direction of that nerve wrecking sound. Which was the lesser of the two evils? “Okay! Let’s go, mate!” she said as she looked around to see if the clicking things were within biting distance. “So when the scavengers come calling, then you acknowledge me as your mate,” the thing huffed. “Could we hurry this along?” she spoke swiftly as she stared over her shoulders, ignoring the sarcasm flowing from the…the Mate thing. “Argue later. Get me out of here now!” With a sigh, the creature looked over her shoulders at the approaching menace and then back towards her. “What is your name?” “I don’t have one!” she cried, her voice rising in pitch, urgent with every word. “No name?” “They call me Girl!” “Well, we have to do better than that.” it snorted. “Please…” she cried. The scabs were getting closer! “Okay! I’ll think about it as we travel to our new home.” “Fine!” she shrieked, as the clicking grew louder. “Just get me out of here!” “Gladly, Mate!” the creature snickered then lowered itself to the ground. “I think I will call you Shrill. Shrill… It seems to fit!” But she said nothing as the first of the scabs rounded the corner; antenna waving, mandibles clicking, their many eyes shining like new death. Too late, she thought. The hope she had felt growing in her heart swiftly dying. And then the creature smiled.
It’s time for you Hump Day Hump! Today, I will post a few stating with the unedited and upcoming NC 17 snippet (masturbation) How Not to Date a Changeling! WOOT!
"What the fuck?" Taylor Martin nearly jumped out of his skin as a wail that could only be described as banshee like permeated the walls of his new home. The glass of Riesling he just poured cascaded over his hand as he tried to control his hands shaking. “Alcohol abuse,” he murmured sadly staring at the puddle of the rich sweet wine at his feet. But the siren screech of a wail sounded again and Taylor found himself turning to face the kitchen window. Was somebody murdering cats? Herding peacocks? What the fuck? He grabbed a dishtowel to mop up the spill and winced as the odd sound echoed again. He rose to his feet and made his way to the kitchen window, watching as a mass of night birds took flight, sleeping away from the darkened house in question as another wail sounded out. That particular dwelling was a three sorry monstrosity that during the day was pained a sedate dark green. The were no gardens to speak of, but the lush green lawn was well maintained lawn the circular drive before it solid and practical. It was a worry that the house. Next to it, his new house, was going for such a small price. The neighborhood was not exclusive, but he was sure that there were a few antique cars in some driveways and there had been a Mercedes SUV in one driveway. Taylor himself, was an ex solider by trade and now a photographer out of necessity, and was more than stunned to find such a forest deal on his own two-story Hudson Bay home. Now he was beginning to understand why the house went up for a short sale. One more wail sounded, this one not as intense as the others and then total silence fell. Shaking his head at his rotten luck, Taylor poured one more glass of wine and retreated to his master bedroom where a tub of hot steaming water waited. It was one of the few thighs he promised himself when he landed stateside and now that the wailing seemed to be over for the night, he was going to take advantage. Once upstairs in his private domain, he placed his sweet wine on a bath table next to his tub and shimmied out of his sweatpants. As he undressed, he looked down at the scars criss crossing his body and wrinkled his nose at the sight. He was damn lucky he could walk, he reasoned staring down at the keloids and raised scars that covered his legs and hips. He reached down and tugged at the soft skin of his testicles, knowing that one of them was a prosthetic. Shaking off his growing depressed thoughts, he settled himself into his tub, sighing as the heat permeated his skin. He felt his muscles relax as he settled back against the tub. He closed his eyes and gripped his dick. Erections for him were few and far between, some of it having to do with pain, some with the meds he was on, and some of it just pure depression. But tonight, tonight was one of the good nights. With the wine warming his blood and the hot water seeping into his muscles, it was time for a little self-healing. He closed his eyes and sank deeper into the tub, the hot water lapping at his skin sent tingles over his skin and a twisting in his stomach. His balls churned as blood filled his dick, his stroking hand helping it along. He inhaled deeply, breathing in the steam and the scents of growing lust as he tightened his fist and ran his thumb over the plum colored head of his cock. Taylor had a pretty cock. He knew it and several people commentated on his favorite body part during his career as a sexual being. It was thick, but not veiny and was a solid tan color from base to the start of his head. Other men he had seen had a round ring around their dicks marking were they had been cut as children, but his scar was so thin it was barely noticeable. His cock curved gently upward, something the women in his bed seemed to enjoy greatly when he found their g spots and rode it like a cowboy. The gentle widening of his shaft convinced more then one woman to turn over and go ass up and give anal a try. Taylor had a pretty dick and he was so happy to see it full, stiff, and radiating need that he could almost cry. Instead he took a firmer grip and slowly stroked the shaft again, his thumb rubbing a clear bead of precum around the soft skin of its head. He groaned, allowing himself the pleasure of making the noise, letting it tighten his muscles as the sound added to his need. Yeah, he was home along and mastering his domain. No one could say a damn thing about it, and if they had opinions, they had better keep them to themselves. Nothing was going to harsh his rush. He pumped his fist a little faster biting his bottom lip as pleasure began to coil in his stomach. His knees began to shake and his ass tightened on his next stroke. “So good,” he moaned clenching his teeth as a shaft of pure heat tightened his nipples and shot strait to his cock, making it throb harder. “Mmm,” As he stroked harder, his hips began to thrust upwards, splashing and churning the water around him, but he paid it no heed. His balls were slowly drawing up and his toes were curling. It was perfect and it was hot and it was so very wet. His fist was pounding now as his free hand went below the water to cup his balls, rolling them gently as he spread his thighs as far as he could within the confines of the tub. Right now, his body was a sexual machine. With no scarring or pain to hinder him, he let his mind drift. God, to sink into some dusky skinned beauty… to feel her legs wrap around his waist as her nails dug into his shoulders… And her voice, it would be deep and dark, filled with lust as she gasped his name. Yeah, he could picture his dark haired lover, her hips jerking up into each of his thrusts, her breasts bobbing wildly as he loomed over her, pounding her as hard as he could and have her begging for more. “Umn,” he grunted as white lights began to explode behind his eyes and fire shot down his spine. She would be screaming now, yelling as her tight pussy clenched around him, milking him hard, her nails digging in his ass… His hands slipped off his balls and sank further back, caressing his ass, stroking the sensitive skin there, and sending his hips slamming upwards. “God, yeah,” he hissed his eyes squeezing tightly as his balls slammed against the base of his dick and his dick swelled to its fullest. Then he was shooting, spraying his load over the water and up onto his stomach, gasping as his body flooded him with hormones and made his body shake as it was attacked with pleasure. He felt a shaft of pain in his left knee, but it all blended with the pleasure running over his body, making his blood sing and leaving him limp as a used dishrag. “Oh yeah,” he moaned as his body shook in aftershocks, as the still hot water cradled him gently. He loosed his grip on his dick, enjoying the lingering spams of his orgasm. His other hand left his ass to softly pet his stomach, playing with the sticky seed that the water had not yet washed away. He would have to change the water… but in a moment. Right now, he was too relaxed and— "Sweet baby Jesus!" The wail returned, louder than before it trailed off slowly and silence descended once more.
Since everyone was patient while I was writing this… here’s a bit of How Not to Date a Changeling
There were no screams that night and Taylor couldn’t help but feel uneasy about it. If what he read in his searches was true, then no one could blame the poor woman from screaming her head off every night.
The next morning found him knocking on Cordelia’s door once more, a gentle soreness in his leg that spoke of rain and a cherry chocolate Bundt cake in hand.
“Nothing good will come of this,” Miss Winnie shouted, hustling past with her dog, both with their noses in the air. “Mark my words, young man! Mark my words!”
Taylor barely resisted the urge to stick his tongue out at the old biddy and instead turned and banged on Cordelia’s door like he was the narc’s trying to make a drug bust.
“Must you?” she snapped, swinging the front door open and stopping Taylor dead.
Today she was… Cordelia was beautiful.
Her long masses of kinky tangled curls flowed free around her face and body, a slim body that was sheathed in white silk that made her skin glow and her eyes pop.
“I must, I must,” he breathed, looking down as his cock gave a lurch toward the vision in white. Now may not be the time for an inappropriate stiffy, but it was more action that he had seen below the belt since his last attempt at masturbation a few days ago. He didn’t expect to see another erection for at least another month. Cool.
“Well now,” she purred and Taylor jerked his head up as he realized that Cordelia’s own gaze had followed his. “Look at what we have here.”
“I brought cake,” he stammered, feeling a slight flush heat his cheeks. It was all he could think tot say and it sounded stupid, but it was way better than having to apologize for the conduct of his spastic dick.
“Did you fuck it first?” she asked and his mouth dropped open. “I mean I have seen some strange reactions to chocolate cake, but if it what gets your motor running….”
She trailed off as she stepped outside and waved him in.
He bet she didn’t know her slip of a dress was see through in the sun, he thought as the golden sun saw fit to grant him an unknown fantasy as he saw Cordelia Snow naked under her clothing.
Her breasts were small and unfettered and as she shifted, he could make out dark colored nipples kissing the bodice of her dress. Her legs were long and lethal, slim but well muscled and he could make out the shadowy cleft between them.
Did she have? … Lord have mercy, she had a muff, a real muff.
So many women shaved everything off that he rarely saw anything resembling pubic hair these days. But it looked like Miss Cordelia had a neat trim patch o pubic hair and he found himself drooling, wanting to burry his face in it. It harkened back to his days of sneaking his foster father’s seventies style porn and watching as those hairy bushed women with their wild Farah Faucet do’s did things with their mouths that would leave most men drooling and most feminists reaching for their picket signs.
“Faster than I may like,” he muttered as his memories and his reality clashed into one huge silken clad Changeling fantasy named Cordelia.
She arched an eyebrow but shook her head, probably thinking about human stupidity, but he dutifully stepped into her house and watched as she stepped in behind him, closing the door and killing the blessed light that allowed him to see more than what Ms. Snow had probably intended.
“I couldn’t help but notice the lack of screams last night,” he began as they again settled at the table, her pouring him a mug of that rancid tea that stopped the pain in his leg.
“Oh,” she purred and he nearly dropped his mug as realized just how sexy her voice really was. “Then the explosion didn’t kill your hearing.”
“What?” The press of her breasts against the silk fascinated him. Even thought he could no longer see her nipples, he swore there was a shadow of a nip right…
“I may be mistaken.”
He looked up and blinked, absently taking a sip of his tea them blanching as the flavor killed some of his recently absent desire. Damn tea.
“Are you deaf, laddy?”
“No, I can hear perfectly well—and I heard your distinct lack of screaming last night. What gives? I was getting used to the blood curdling screams.”
“Edits are done.”
“Miss Winnie said you were a writer—“
“That nosey bitch?” she snorted, rolling her eyes. “If she read what I wrote, I am sure her processed hair would curl tighter than it already is.”
“That is a pretty neat ‘fro she got going for a white girl,” Taylor chuckled.
“And the rainbow colors,” Cordelia sniffed. “I feel sorry for the dog. It must burn his ass getting it dyed so many colors to math his simpering fool of a mistress.”
“I write smut.”
He blinked at that and then grinned, his cock perking up from where the taste of the tea had beaten it back. “Smut? You don’t say?”
“I like to write about what I am not getting.”
“Oh, you could get it if you wanted it,” he pointed out but all amusement stopped with her frown.
“Are you blind?” she snapped, crossing her arms as she glared at him.
“Nope, you are attractive—“
“You took one look at me and knew I wasn’t human.”
“I am not really sure that you aren’t,” he confided. “But that wind thing is kind if proof positive—“
“I’ll not have jokes coming from the likes of you,” she growled, her eyes narrowed into angry glittering jewels.
“I am not joking—“
“If my human parents reacted the way they did when I was in their cradle, what makes you think that adult humans with no real love for me, being powered only by lust would do to something as unnatural as I?”
“But,” he answered. “But you are beautiful.”
“I am not human.”
“But you are beautiful.”
“I am too thin, to long, too oddly formed, Lieutenant Colonel retired. And I refuse to be hurt again.”
“Call me Taylor,” he insisted, placing his mug down in the table and looking her right in the eyes as he spoke his next words. “And you are hot.”
She narrowed her eyes at him and reached for her own mug of tea. She swilled it back like it was a shot whiskey before reaching for the cake that sat on the table. Still holding his gaze, she opened her mouth… wider and wider unnaturally wide until she could shove the whole friggin’ cake in there. Then with one gulp, the cake was gone and her neck distended as the whole thing slid down the slim shaft.
She inhaled once before blinking, a smile tugging at her lips as she dared him to say something.
“That was so fucking hot,” he breathed, making her blink in amazement then look at his crotch for confirmation.
Yup, little Taylor was standing at full salute and waving a bit at her.
She ripped her eyes form his crotch back up to his face as he stared at her in dazed amazement. “No gag reflex, huh?”
“I just swallowed a whole cake, you daft bugger!”
“Without choking,” he purred. “I like that.”
“You are insane!”
“And you write smut—do tell?”
Taylor knew he was like a kid in a candy store, bouncing all along the walls off Cordelia’s office, but he had never been in the domain of a real writer before.
It was like some kind if magical mystical place, even thought he could see it was only a desk with a computer, a few comfortable chairs, and lots of paper taped to the walls.
“So you create here?”
“Obviously,” Cordelia still hadn’t put on any more clothing and seeing her sit at her desk with her bare feet tucked under her made him want to nibble at her toes.
He didn’t have a foot fetish, but he bet he could get her to squeal and whimper if he teased her just right. The thought of her writing back in her chair, her thighs resting against his neck as he buried his face in her snatch… oh yeah. Erotica was good.
“So… what do you create?”
“I create worlds Lieutenant, worlds greater then the piece of shit one we live in now.”
“I wouldn’t go that far…”
“Did you research what I am?”
“Then you know what they did to me.”
“And knowing that, how can you say that this world is nothing more than a piece of offal waiting to decompose and hopefully grow something useful when all the pricks on it rot away?”
“Not all of us are asses.”
“True, but you asked me what I create. I create worlds where people who are different can live in peace, where there is always a happy ending, and where anyone can loose themselves for a little time.”
“And the sex. You said you write smut. Why do you write that? I understand the better world thing. I am not in your position, but I feel you on that one. But smut?”
“I write what I want to have, Lieutenant oblivious. And what does that tell you?”
“You want… the fantasy dream lover?”
“No, you ass.” She snapped rolling her eyes before crossing her arms in a huff. I want hot sex.”
“So go and get it!”
“I can’t.” she sounded exasperated and Taylor was really confused. Getting laid was one of the easiest things a woman could do. She only had to point to an unattached male and scream ‘come and get it’, and she would be getting plowed in no time.
"Because I am ugly and disgusting, and there is nothing that you or anyone else on this fucking planet can do about it.”
“You are not ugly or disgusting,” he pointed to his crotch. “Really. Proof positive.”
“Well, we’ve already proven that you don’t have he sense God gave a goose, haven’t we?”
“I am smart,” he snapped, narrowing his eyes at her. “I have a masters and everything.”
“Then why is it that you can’t see things from my point of view? I am too different, to strange—“ “Exotic,” he offered and smiled when she frowned. That small pout made his dick throb and a small spurt of precum leak from its tip. He absently reached down to adjust himself and eyed her up and down.
“Alien,” she countered.
“Not too alien,” he grinned. “Unless you are hiding tentacles under that robe. But from what I could see from your little display this morning, you aren’t hiding much of anything under there, are you?”
She pouted harder and he felt a steady head grow at the base of his cock. “Just really exotic.”
“I am a curiosity to you,” she snorted. “You had a few brushes with the paranormal and now you want to take one of us for a test drive.”
“Why not?” he asked, stepping closer to her. “You want to take me for a spin.”
“You let me in.”
“You were banging on my door, fit to raise the dead!”
“You haven’t blown me out with your unseen wind.”
“Cause that takes too much energy and I had edits to finish.”
“You are my cake.”
“You irritated me.”
“You want me.”
“You are practically naked right in front of me and you like to see my dick all swollen and hard for want of you.”
She paused, a slight flush covering her cheeks and trailing down her long long neck.
“Nothing to say?”
“I mayhap… have a small curiosity—“
“Oh, so now I am the curiosity? What? You want to try a little human out, see how we compare to whatever you were getting before?”
“I was getting nothing before, Lieutenant. I was getting nothing. Who wants to lay with this?”
She stood and allowed her silken dress to slide off her shoulders and pool at her feet as she spun around, her back to him.
And Taylor felt his anger grow anew as he saw the patchwork scaring along her back.
“Hot water,” she spoke as she pulled her hair to one side, offering him the full show. “I remember the hot water. And there were fireplace pokers, all hot. I remember screaming for them to stop, but on one ever did. They were disappointed that no one came for me, for the little changeling child. They wanted their own precious darling back and they beat me, and burned me, and starved me until they were sure my real parents would return their own little one. But it never happened.”
She crossed her arms in front of her, hiding her small breasts as she faced him.
“And they starved me. They said I was too hungry, that I ate too much, that I was starving the rest of them so there were days when I didn’t eat.”
The scaring on her back wrapped around to her chest, dark orange slashes that made up a patchwork quilt of skin that had seen too much damage.
“So they switched me when I cried, my nightmares filled with pain and hunger and heat. They tried to drown me once, but a neighbor told them that if I died, they would never get their own little on e back in return, so they went back to beating me.”
She looked up, her large green eyes calm, not really angry anymore, just resigned.
“And when I grew smarter than them, than their others children, they called it the work of the devil and had priests baptize me. They expected the water to burn, but it did nothing and the priests congratulated them n rearing such a pious young lady. Pious indeed,” she sniffed.
“Then one day, my real parents came back. They told me of what I was and where my counterpart happened to be.” Her lips took on a wry twist as she shook her head. “The little bitch became consort to the fae king and he would not have her returned. But to make up for the abuse, my real parents slaughtered the ones who reared me and sent me packing here to America, as they needed only one daughter. And here I stayed, making my way with the gold they gave, knowing that I was too different, to alien, to odd to ever be taken seriously.”
“They are fools,” Taylor snapped, stepping close to her, wrapping her warm body in his arms. That she topped him by an inch made no difference. She felt small and delicate in his arms and he wanted her now more than ever.
“I dated a few times, and that always ended in disaster, Lieutenant. I am great to date as an oddity, but no one really wants the girl. So I create worlds where the girl gets what she wants. I create the hot sex that I have never had. I crate a place where I can loose myself… and then you had to come along.”
She stiffened in his arms and Taylor eased back. “Me?”
“You with your chocolate and your sexy body—“
“Sexy? Are you blind now?” he snorted, releasing her fully and stepping back to peer into her face. “I am covered in scars and quite a few nightmares of their own. I am sure the woman of my dreams would love to wake up being strangled by me in a trauma related night terror. And lets not forget my sexy legs. I am sure any woman will get erotic bliss out of a finicky dick and muscle spasms. I look dead sexy when I flop on the floor trying to reach my drugs before I curl up in a ball of weeping pain. Really manly, that.”
“You don’t know—“
“Know that I have just about cashed in my ticket for the happiness train? Yeah, I know that, Ms. Snow. I know that my girl took one look at the mess of my leg and decided that she wasn’t taking care of an invalid and moved on to greener pastures. I know that my night screaming and maybe the time I knocked her across the room while trapped in a nightmare may have had helped her decision along a little. You are looking at a cripple, lady, one guaranteed never to have a normal life again. Tell me what woman would want that?”
He froze, tossing off the last of his momentary self-hatred, and stared into her serious green eyes. Yup, she meant her uttered word and he could feel the her confidence in her answer blaze into his brain as she reached up and ran a curious finger over his face. Then she repeated herself. “Me.”
The Taylor Martin said the only thing he could, the only thing that made sense at the moment.
The Massive Blog about What I have been doing lately….
Let me preface this by saying that I need memory help!!!
Not buying it? Hmm… How about the truth. I get overwhelmed and I forget. Time to get an assistant, I think, so I can remember to do these things! Anybody want to work for stories? It’s hard work but I have it on the greatest authority that I am cute and entertaining… No takers, huh? Damn that Luring Minions Book. They lied! Sniffle! I have no minions and I am out of magic beans. LOL
That being said, on with the updates! *g*
I recently attended the Frederick Book Festival. It was the first time that this festival was being held and I hope they hold it for a great number of years to come.
It was kind of disorganized. I still don’t have my name tag, but I am chalking it to growing pains and leaving it at that.
The best things were I got to hang with Beautiful Trouble and its many wondrous authors and owners and Margret Riley from my beloved Changeling press came out to play.
It was cold and damp, but like the Avengers, we assembled early at the Frederick Fair Grounds and gave the place some attitude! LOL WE laughed, we joked, we handed out promo and got to attend a panel.
It was Diversity in Fiction and was immediately hijacked my us! LOL No lie, Jeanie, Jayah, Serenity King, and the rest of us actually spoke about the huge elephant in the room. A lot of diversity panels don’t get to the meat of several matters… like diversity doesn’t only mean black and white, it’s a relationship between people of any different racial and or cultural background. Yeah, like all those Sheik and Indian Romances we used to read as kids… and alien’s of course. *g* And if you think that the problems of diversity are at an end, just try to find a passionate interracial couple in a clench. You get tired of After School Special and Business hand shakes that pass for romance in the interracial level. Sheesh!
We cut out soon after for lunch at Longhorn Steakhouse and that was warm, and filling both emotionally and nutritionally. After that Den drove me home and poured me into a hot bath. But boy do I have memories! PJ Schyder was there, and John Monohan, and several other local authors I have not seen in a long time. I didn’t sell a single book, but I had re-connect time with my friends and that made it well worth the trip.
Lets hear it for Balticon….
Oh yeah! The four day marathon of panels, costuming, and fun!
Margret Riley came out for a two days, a record for her, believe me, and we had a blast! I met so many awesome authors there, and of course so many more friends. PJ Schnyder, Zan Rosin, Huge Casey, Rose and Dion Sims, Chris Stuppi and Wendi Dawn, Danielle Ackley –Mcphail… way too many to name here. And I got to be in The Avengers…and Schwarma After with The Usual Suspects. I was Nick Furry during the morning and Fury at the skit. I got to wear an eye patch and a tactical holster… too much fun and they actually made me say, “I want these Monkey-Fighting Nukes off my Monday-Friday plane!” Cackle!
The panes ranged from a shared Broad Universe Reading with Margret Riley to Alien Sex in Sci-Fi all the way to Using Comedy in Sci-Fi. I had awesome panelists and made many new friends and contacts.
Now I have survived the cons, the festivals, and the Graduations… My baby Dev has graduated high school and soon will be college bound… AND now I get a two-day break before we head off to Lori Foster’s Reader Author Get-Together. I am tired but content for now. But that just means insanity is waiting around the corner!
Books and WIP’s…
Out of Bounds from Total E Bound Press is up for pre order! WOOT! It is the worlds best anthology featuring the writing styling’s of Cheryl Dragon, Megan Slayer, and me, Stephanie Burke! Check it out now!
Cause I love you all so much… here is another Hump for your day! How Not to Date a Bear Too… an unedited two chapters….
How Not To Date A Bear, Too!
“Unnnn—that feels so good…” Theodore Bazanov, Keeper of Heritage and second in command of the Great Bear Clan if Manitoba shifted his ass just soo and groaned in pleasure he could not hide. His whole body shuddered as it hit the perfect stop. He squeezed his eyes closed and prayed he wouldn’t be too sore after, but this hardness, this thick mass… it was too good to stop. Almost there… almost there… almost— “Ohh, look at what we have here—“ The lascivious tone made Theo’s eyes open with a snap, bringing him back to a sudden and angering awareness. Snarling, he turned from the tree he was using to try and reach that infuriating itch in the small of his back, to glare at the- What the hell? It was female, that much he could make out. But she—um… She had bright red hair that glowed in swirls and curls around her head, giving her an almost bloody halo in the noonday sun. Her skin was a strange orange tan color, the shade of some old leathers he once owned… usually a tone not found on healthy human skin. Her eyes were a vibrant unnatural blue that seemed to have laser intensity. Something in him recoiled at the sight of her; his flight or fight instincts taking a definite turn for fight. For the first time in his life since he reached adulthood, Theo felt like prey and his bear didn’t like it one but. He shuffled back, lumbering on two powerful hind legs, his black eyes never leaving the face of the she-beast who was moving closer. “Come back, little bear.” She walled, waving her arms, her unnaturally large brass not swaying at all with her movements. Then her voice got deep, a unmistakable sexual overtone taking over. “I only want to pet you.” Fuck no, he thought before he turned tail and ran. There was only so much a male in his position was supposed to put up with and degenerate middle-aged women were not part of the plan. “I’m gonna get ya, catch ya,” she said merrily as she gave chase. “And then I’m gonna eat ya.” Not if I can help it, his mind yowled as he sped up, putting more distance between him and the woman. How could she run so fast in five inch heels? “Come back, little polar bear,” she panted, gaining ground. “I want to talk to you.” Fuck no, his mind supplied and he doubled his speed once more. But the she beast was not giving up. In her tight Capri pants and the red/orange lace tank top, she was gaining. She was moving so fast that her feet became a blur of crystal shoes and ten tiny lights from the red/orange toe nail polish she was sporting. She reached out for him, her fingernails like black talons and he suddenly broke right, hoping to dodge her. “No fair!” she wailed, skidding to a halt, tossing up torn vegetation and soil into the air. “Momma doesn’t like her pets to play games.” The bitch wasn’t even out of breath. Shaking his head in dismay, Theo raced ahead, using the small pause his sudden direction change had given her to extend the distance between the two of them. And still, she was not giving up. “Frisky,” she growled, bending low, almost like a cartoon character or an animated ninja as she ran, rapidly closing the distance between he two ofß them. Fuck this, his horrified mind screamed as he tossed off all façade of a real bear and began to use his preternatural strength. His four paws pounded the ground, eating the terrain before him as he scouted the best place to run and hide. He was on Clan land so him using his bear abilities would not shock an of the natives. “That’s my bear!” he heard and looked over his shoulder, agog as the strange female was catching up… in her high heels… and her blinding bright toenails. He was so distracted by the sight that only instinct had him swirling around a figure that suddenly appeared before him. He automatically dodged, nearly tripping over his hind legs as the man… beast… creature… mountie, his dwindling facilities supplied, jerked on his reins to control his rearing horse. Oh, and what a mountie, he decided as he regained his balance and spied the man and horse. He was beautiful, his long black hair flowing in the breeze like in some Hollywood western. This thighs, thick and muscular clamped down on the saddle as he rose to stand in the stirrups. His was rounded perfection and he could see the muscles strain under his tight red jacket. Dark brown eyes held his for an impossibly long second when the earth seemed to stand still and… “Fuzzy Wuzzy!” The bitch was back, He was about to pour on the speed and get out of dodge when a deep gravely voice halted him in his tracks. “This is protected land. You do not belong here.” Say what? Theo spun around to see the Mountie placing himself between him and the crazy lade, stopping her in her tracks. “What?” “Protected land,” he spoke again, his horse dancing in agitation. “You don’t belong.” “But I only wanted to pet him—“ “Ma’am, these are protected shifter lands. I am going to have to ask you to leave or bring you in on violation of Statute 557 of the Manitoba Shifter Agreement. The lands they hold are private and only with the proper authority may anyone other than the clan shifters of said land, be allowed to roam without impunity.” And the crazy woman pouted. “But I—“ “Get!” he snapped, leaning down to growl at her. She got. She sniffed at the Mountie then turned on her heel, in a slow hog back the way she came. Theo turned to look at his savior and felt his heat pound as the man winked at him before spinning around on his horse and riding off into the sunset. Theo blinked his eyes and shook his head to clear it form any and all impure thoughts about naked horseback riding and its effect on the male ass before turning to lumber his way home. The attack of the crazy lady was already fading from his mind as new fantasies involving leather and reins began to take hold. Maybe it was time for him to get laid? Okay, that was the plan. He had been far too long in the company of Palm-etta and her five sisters. And now that Clan lands were established, the Clan Alpha was settled, and no one from he was some Theodore time. He would get cleaned up and head out to a haunt he hadn’t seen in some time, the Bear With Me, club, have a little drink and maybe pick up a little something for his empty bed at home. That plan firmly in mind, Theo moved faster towards the Clan House, ready to get his evening started right.
“Archer,” Theo called out as he walked into Bear With Me, a grin on his face and a plan in mind. “I need vodka!” Phase one of his plans, get pleasantly buzzed. He was due. He had made sure his assigned duties had been handled, his package form home would be arriving in two days, and it was time to, as they say in the States, get loose. Phase two, find something fresh and tender to sink his teeth into. Screaming and crying optional, but he must be a hard fun ride. “You seem like a man with a lot on his mind.” Theo leaned back against the bar as Archer walked over, a tall frozen glass in his hand. He placed the vodka beside him and leaned his elbows on the varnished wood bar top, staring at him intently. “Want to talk about it?” “My day,” Theo wrinkled his nose and gestured wildly with his hands for a moment, before shaking his head and reaching for his glass. “It started out with business,” His Russian accent was growing more pronounced as he relaxed in his friend’s company. “Business is good.” “No repercussions from the Great Clan?” “We are a Great Clan, Archer,” he shook his head and lifted his glass to his lips and tossed back half the clear cold liquid. “We remain a Great Clan, just one removed from stupidity.” “No word?” “Bah,” he waved his hand. “They are too busy practicing gorilla warfare on each other. You fear they will come here?” She chuckled at Archer’s shrug, watching as his long tail of hair slid over his shoulder to pile on the bar. He had the pleasure of Archer’s company on more than one occasion. It was an easy complications free arrangement they had. And as sure as he was that Archer would be up for another go, he was looking for someone different. “They wish us well, but silently pray we will fail. We are the first branch of Great Polar Bears to leave so completely. We are what we are.” “That’s good,” Archer relaxed, tossing his tail of hair behind him. For a moment, Theo was long in thoughts of how the man growled when that rope of hair was pulled just so. “You worry we bring war to your doorstep?” “Nah,” Archer turned his head and winked at him. “Just wondering if I was gonna have to call in more back up and a lot of handcuffs.” “Handcuffs would be good,” Theo nodded. “Undoubtedly, all the bears no matter the breed would wind up here seeking pleasure. You would need more help to keep the liquid cheer flowing.” “You are a mess,” Archer laughed, tossing back his head, letting the rich deep sound roll through the room, relaxing Theo even more. “And I would make one of you, my friend, if I had not come here thinking to spread my wings a bit. “Is that right?” Archer purred, leaning close enough that Theo could inhale the scent of his spicy cologne and the underlying scent of strong healthy male. “You know I could,” Theo murmured softly, a growl rumbling thought his voice. “Oh I know you can,” Archer leaned back, his face flushed as arousal began to flood his body. “But that is not what neither you or I want. And there is someone I want you to meet.” “Hmm?” Theo tiled his head to the side, his long black hair spilling in a silken fall over his shoulders. “Someone new?” “New to you,” Archer chuckled. “Richard!” he stood upright and called. Theo got a glimpse of a person turning towards them, brad shoulders, trim waist, hair neatly braided in a long tail that touched the healthy curve of a nicely rounded ass. To Theo, Archer continued, “My friend and fellow—“ “I know you are here and I am not leaving to I find you.” Archer’s words were interrupted by the club’s door slamming open and Theo was almost blinded by a mass of red. “Miss—“ one of the bouncers walked over, but the lady in question started waving a membership card like it was a weapon. “Back you. I know my Fuzzy Wuzzy is in here and I’m going to find him.” Theo’s mouth dropped open as the woman began sniffing at the shocked men in the club. It was the same red orange lace tank top, the same tight dusty white Capri’s… the click of five inch heels— It was the crazy lady from before. “Fuzzy Wuzzy!” she called, invading more than a few people’s personal space as she called out. “Fuck,” Theo whimpered. “Hide me!” He turned and grabbed Archer’s thick forearms. “Get me out of here. The back way—“ But it was too late. The woman jerked to a halt, her nose tilting in the air as if scenting him. “There,” she growled and started moving towards him with purpose. “What the hell?” Archer gasped, backing away from Theo as if suddenly his friend picked up a particularly noxious smell. “Don’t leave me!” Theo nearly whimpered, pushing aside that he was the second in a Great Clan of Polar Bears. There was some things that his mental facilities could not take. “Man, you are on your own.” Archer was struggling to get away. “I don’t do cougars.” “Fuzzy!” She was now close enough for Theo to see the odd golden eyes that seemed to glow. “Uh—“ “I found you,” she cackled, her eyes narrowing where she saw his hands gripping Archer desperately. “You are mine,” “I don’t even know you,” Theo whimpered as Archer nearly knocked himself off his feet jerking away. “I can change that.” “But—“ “No buts, Fuzzy Wuzzy. It took me all day to track you down. You are not getting away that easy.” She lunged and Theo’s flight or flight instinct kicked in hard. He broke right, dodging as the strange woman nearly stuck the bar in her eagerness to get to him. “Stop playing hard to get and come to momma,” she purred, spinning around and pinning him with a glance. Theo looked around and none of the men and women in the place were offering him safe haven. Half of them weren’t even paying attention to what was going on and those that were had cell phones at the ready, taking video of his utter humiliation. He wanted to knock the bitch out and run away, but instincts regarding females were clear. If you do not want to engage, run away fast. His bear would allow him to do no harm to a female. “Stop fighting sugar,” she leaped for him again, painted back nails looking like talons as she literally sprung at him. Panicking, Theo grabbed the first warm body beside him and suddenly was grateful for the concept of a meat shield that playing so many videogames had instilled within him. He ducked down and peeked around the leather clad shoulders just as a thick braid of hair slapped him in the face. He looked up, shock on his face as he scented something unique and utterly delicious. He slowly rose to his feet and peered around the body to see the face. What a beautiful glorious face. His cheekbones were high, his skin a very creamy tan, like someone had added a bucked of yellow cream to a vat of red earth and lovingly blended the two tones. A pair of deep brown eyes looked back at him and a slow smile spread across a set of deep rose lips. He was leaning in closer, his eyes at half mast, sniffing like a hound dog and unashamed of it when he felt something painfully grip his arm. He lurched back, human hands with bear claws extended, ready to swat away the thing that was causing him pain when he was blinded by red. “Mine.” The crazy bitch had him in her grasp and there was no way he could shake her off without causing her harm. He was so screwed.
This is from the upcoming… as in I am still writing it, novel, How Not to Date a Changeling! I blame Barb Hicks and her Writerspace Chat Crew for this one too! LOL HEre is Taylor having a bad day….
“Life in the fast lane,” Taylor sang, tossing his head back and shaking his hips. He was baking. In the last four days he had tried everything he could to get into that house. The note he left tapped to the door was found the next in the same envelope, torn to its bitty little prices and the noise was more intense that night. He tried sending flowers only to find the bouquet decapitated in their vase when he went back. The hello card was corrected for grammatical errors in red ink the next day and the noise sounded smug and spiteful that night. And his last attempt, a basket of breads was taken in and the mangled basket left on her front porch. It was a game to him now, to get his house unpacked and get to meet the strange neighbor. Baked goods was the closest that he had come so he was going to continue on that track. It was a personal goal to get ingot hat house and he was not above pulling out the hard stuff to get his way. He swiveled his hips, all stripper sheik, his hips moving on point, and- hit the ground… hard. "Fuck!" He bellowed as his bad knee clicked as it gave away, and he collapsed onto his side. If this pain had a color, it would be bright red with radiating white streaks of fire shooting up his thigh and down to his ankles. Hissing, he leaned over and gripped his knee with both hands as he writhed on the kitchen floor. Some abstract point of his mind was grateful that he decided to keep his living area on the first floor, reserving the second floor for guest rooms. And never was he more grateful when he realized that he didn’t have to navigate the stairs to get to his pain meds. When the bright red of his knee dulled to an angry purple, he forced himself to move. Flipping over onto his back was e ought to make him curse again, but he refrained and forced himself to sit up. It was a blessing that his heavy butchers block kitchen table was strong enough to hold his weight as he struggled to get upright and on his feet. Silently, he blessed his theorist who insisted in indoor athletic shoes for traction because if he slipped again, he was going to wind up on his ass for the rest of the night. Using the walls for balance, he ignored the deep throbbing that add itself to his knee party and the hot spot his left leg had become as he made his way to his bedroom. The hope trunk at the foot of his bed was his goal. It had been a gift to him by his grandmother years before she passed and he treasured the trunk made of oak and dreams. Even now he loved the damn thing even thought it would never be used for its original purpose. Instead of being filled with baby clothing and tangible memories of the love of his life, it now held souvenirs of his battle to remain ambulatory and the gear needed to control his pain. There were no silks and stains, but there was a to get garment made of neoprene and steel that offered support and balance that was more powerful than any relationship he could have chosen to have, He stumbled to the bed and sank down on the foot of it as he flung the trunk open. His knee brace, one of many, waited to embrace his leg and knee and offer what support it could. It took a few seconds to get the Velcro straps just right and then he signed as the swelling was checked as the cold neoprene surrounded his leg and thigh, keeping his knee cap centered while allowing motion. Once he was properly strapped in, it was only a matter of making his way back to the kitchen for…. It was about them that the alarm on his oven went off. "Fuck," Taylor struggled to his feet, moving a fast as he could, which was not very fast considering, and tripped his way down to the kitchen. With every step, anger grew. He was out of a job, stuck in this house, and inundated with noise every night…. And now his knee was done and the fucking cake was burning. Moving so fast he nearly stumbled a time or two, he made it to the kitchen and over to the oven. He nearly burned himself on the oven door before He remembered to slip on his oven mitts. He ripped the chocolate mint cheesecake out of the oven and barely prevented himself from throwing it against a wall and watching it splatter in a bright beautiful mess… Just like his knee… Just like his life. But he restrained himself. He dragged his bad leg behind him as he made Hiawatha to the cabinet that held his meds. He slammed the door open and stared at his unending supply of narcotics and pain meds while he decided how dumb he wanted to be that night. Was it a Percocet night which would numb his mind but not the pain, not really…. Or would Vicodin be the drug of the hour? It would numb the pain…and his mind, but that was a small price to pay for the ability to walk upright, right? Then there was oxy… Good old oxy, made you tremble likes rack head and drool in the corner, but he would feel nothing at all. That was good, right? Well, at least he still had a leg. Fuck the fact that the pain meds made taking a shit a bloody nightmare, literally. No, he could actually exist in a drugged haze until they threw his ass in rehab… Never mind his lack of a sex life, at least he had his health, somewhat. Forget about ever finding someone to sleep over for the night let alone start a relationship. Who wanted to sleep with a man who had flashbacks and nigh terrors that inevitably brought him awake standing whoever had the misfortune of being beside him. Who wanted to endure his scared up body and tendency to fall down when least expected? Who wanted a fucking cripple as their significant other? So instead of life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness that he damn near died fighting for so others should have a normal life, his life now consisted of goals. To get out do the bed in the morning, he had to have a goal. Too keep fitting, he had to have a goal. And now, his motherfucking goal was to get into that god-damned house. Taylor slammed the cabinet shut and absently grabbed the really nice cheesecake with his oven mitt and stormed towards the front door. Ignoring his usual outdoor shoes, he slung the front door open, his pain and anger carrying him forward. Limping, damn near dragging his leg behind him, he stormed up the path to the mad woman’s door. The setting sun told him that he had an hour or so before she would start her caterwauling. He had to hop on one leg to move up the two stairs that led to her front door. Blam Blam Blam "I know you are there!" He bellowed, pounding the door so hard it shook on its mooring. "Look, you pitiless monster. For a week I’ve been playing nice, dealing with your fucking noises and bringing you gifts." "No!" He heard from behind and the less angry part of his brain recognized Miss Winnie. He ignored her and pounded on the door again. “I bust my ass trying to be kind and you throw it up in my face. You take what I give and act like a feckless bitch. So you know what?” He hefted the cake pan high, eyeing her door. “You like my baked good so much you had to eat them all and fuck up my basket as a thank you. Well, I got something for you now. You’ve got five seconds too pen this fucking door or so help me I’m gonna smear this chocolate mint cheesecake that I so neighborly prepared for you all over your front door and then fuck you!” "It’s not going to work and you… you’re going to get yourself killed," Mis Winnie screamed and he slammed his hand down on the door once more. "Five seconds! One…two… Three… Four… Fi-" and the door clicked open. Taylor stood there, mouth hanging open, hand raised to strike the door. It was an obvious invitation, but dare he take it? He looked over his shoulder at Miss Winnie and her purple tinted poodle that was glaring at him in abject disapproval, down to his swollen throbbing knee, and then back to the open door. Goals needed to be met. Slowly, he limped into the house.