Friday, October 31, 2008

Witch of the Hour...

Greeting, Big Cats of Midnight, the Kougar will resume her bloggies tomorrow. For tonight, another one of moi's *altar* egos shows up to cast a spell of happiness upon your life.

Witchy kisses from the Kougar.

Thursday, October 30, 2008

Eye Candy Fun for Halloween

Welcome to the EYE CANDY CHARMED CIRCLE ~ Several of us Liquid Silver authors are doling out Eye Candy for Halloween ~ *Beginning* at 12 NOON on Friday, October 31 ~ until 12 NOON on Saturday.
The FIRST person, plus ONE drawn at random ~ who leaves a comment on my blog will have a choice of ~ either a PDF copy of RED LIONESS TAMED, or an angelic reading from my hero, Volcano, in WHEN A GOOD ANGEL FALLS.
Or...a PDF copy of BLACK CAT BEAUTY...a week after the release date.
The next cyber blog house is ~
Nina Pierce ~ ~
The Kougar knows what she would do...well, purring-maybe...however, what would you do if HE appeared at your door on Halloween near the witching hour, then seductively inquired:

"Would you like my erotic tricks, or do you want to be the sweet treat I nibble on?"

"Midnight ride, darlin’?"

"Want to play on the wild side of rough?"

Okay, meow, just for the Big Boy Cats, or the Big Girl Cats who purr this way.

And...because the Kougar has always wanted to be carried up the steps, Halloween or not...*insert a breathless, heart-racing sigh* Rhett carried Scarlett in GONE WITH THE WIND ~
Just for the Big Cool Halloween Cats ~ a newly revised version ~
First Halloween after Winter 2012

HALLOWEEN DAY, 2013 ~ after Winter 2012 in WHEN A GOOD ANGEL FALLS

"Wicked guano stench, cherub. Thanks for saving us so fast." Sedona smiled.
Volcano swept his arm in a large arc, creating their translucent sphere of protection deep inside the artificially designed cavern, part of an ancient underground travelway. The huge colony of bats, survivors of Montana’s ecological catastrophes, were in the first stage of hibernation. With her enhanced hearing, Sedona listened to their high-pitched frequency conversation about their sudden arrival, and the bats’ group decision to ignore them.
Protectively, she held Aru, their baby dog, in her arms. Even he had been worn out by their brutally long day of avoiding the constant attacks of their shadow-elite enemies. Aru’s eyes squinched closed in a light doze, as Volcano retrieved his sleep pillow from the superspeed cycle’s compartment. He tossed it close to the center of their sphere, his gaze running over them protectively.
Before placing Aru on his pillow, Sedona kissed the top of his silky fur head. Settling quickly, Aru curled up, his eyes blinking shut within moments. Volcano wrapped his arm around her waist, drawing her close, and for a few moments they stood companionably, gazing down at Aru like doting parents.
"How are you?" Volcano’s velvet tone tingled her ear, and sizzled her insides. Seductively, he handled her bottom, causing her mound to throb with sex-hot desires.
"I don’t know," she whispered. Turning inside his embrace, she slid her palms over his chest, caressing. "That smell as we entered, alone, could have given me a Halloween nightmare. Not to mention recalling all those vampire bat scenes. Too bad we can’t loose them on the hordes of evil following us."
"We could, precious woman."
"I know. It’s not divinely kosher." Sedona looped her arms around his neck, luxuriating in the feel of his muscle-carved body. "Mmmm, I love the way my breasts feel against your chest, carnal cherub."
"I’ll make them feel even better once we arrive at the cabin." His promise, spoken in black velvet, seared through her decadently.
"I know you will," she whispered, hearing the moan in her voice.
Volcano nuzzled her lips with his, and they kissed sumptuously, their passions rising as fast as a fueled bonfire.
Once their lips reluctantly parted, and with her breath in short supply, Sedona murmured his angelic name. Yet, she didn’t speak the tiny threads of love smoldering in her heart. She knew he heard them like harp strings, by the way he held her molded against him.
"We’re surrounded by psi spies, my Sedona. I have to remain awake, undistracted."
"Undistracted?" She raised a brow. "What a Halloween disappointment. I was looking forward to pretending you were Dracula in desperate need of my blood essence and my virgin-helpless body."
"I’m much more desperate than the blood-tasting lusts of Dracula, my beautiful one." Slowly, he stroked over the long length of her hair. "Your neck belongs to me," he badly imitated a campy version of Count Dracula.
"Count Chocula." Sedona chuckled.
"Count Chocula?"
"That’s who you sound like. Count Chocula in the old cereal commercial. It was a chocolate-tasting cereal for kids."
"You dare amuse yourself at the expense of the great and masterful Count Chocula, who, even now, bakes himself with superior chocolate flavor, just for you and your delectable-tasting sinful pleasures."
Sedona giggled as his splayed hands enjoyed the roundness of her butt. "Does that mean you’re going to taste like chocolate when I am allowed to ‘sinfully’ lick and ravish your incredibly hard, incredibly sexy body?"
"If you let me taste your naughty wet curls first." His gaze smoldered, flushing her insides to a sweet fierce heat. Only for him.
"Distraction," she murmured.
"Yes," he agreed, and gently released her. Holding her hand, he seated himself next to Aru’s pillow. Tenderly, he drew her down so she sat within the cradle of his body, her back to him.
Sedona vibrated with the strength of his protection for her, as if an ethereal song played inside her body. She should be accustomed to his care by now. Yet, she doubted she ever would be. Wearier than she realized, she leaned her head back on the hunky wall of his chest, and closed her eyes, hoping...
An instant later, her eyes snapped back open, and her adrenalin spiked. "I swear she must be a reincarnation of the Wicked Witch of the West. Even if that was a fictional character."
Immediately, Volcano hugged her closer, and Sedona snuggled more deeply into his embrace. She intimately covered his hands with hers. Still, she shivered violently, remembering her recent encounter with the Nazerazzi woman, a top operative, determined to capture her or destroy her. The fact, that the ‘Wicked Witch’ still possessed some manner of psychic connection with her was more than disturbing.
"I’ll make her vanish like a fake ghost once the immediate danger is passed. Talk with me awhile, precious woman."
"Fake ghost? Do you mean everyone wearing white sheets?"
"No. Pretend ghosts at Halloween parties. Fog machines. Mother talked about them."
"Oh, I guess that does make sense, handsome heavenly one."
"Your first Halloween costume?" He purred the words near her ear.
"You always know how to keep me awake and talking. Hmmm...let me see...spin some gray matter...take a trip back in time..." Sedona settled her head more comfortably against his chest. "It wasn’t the first one, probably. But it is the first one I remember. And it was before kindergarten. Mom made us three girls pajama footie costumes from a pattern."
"Sort of like tights. But these were sewn from flannel. They were winter pajamas."
"Winter pajamas? I don’t understand."
"We wore them to bed after Halloween. It was a more practical time, the middle 50's. But they were also a costume. I was the black cat. I remember loving that costume, especially my tail and my ears, but I was envious of the tiger and lion costumes my other two sisters got."
"Meow," he darkly whispered. "My own black cat woman for Halloween."
"In flannel pajamas?" she drily teased.
"Batman eat your heart out."
"Plenty of bats in here. Batman could be in disguise just waiting to swoop down. Okay, more like a bloodthirsty move Dracula would make."
"I’ve got better wings. Better than Batman or any vampire bat," he reminded, his voice utter passion.
"Ooooh, you do. Black gorgeous sexy wings." Sedona shuddered with desire, remembering their celestial lovemaking.
"I want my black cat woman," he growled possessively.
"Don’t you dare read my mind and create those black cat pajamas. I’m not wearing them for you."
"Yes, you will."
"No, I won’t."
"You’ll be my black cat beauty."
"Hiss and grrrr...I’ll claw you to divine particles, cherub."
"I’ll make you beg and mew for my tricks and my treats," he promised in a dark purr.
"I’m not begging. Or mewing. What? Have you turned from angel to demon for Halloween?"
"Did I forget to tell you?" His voice unmercifully teased. "For this one night, the whole fabric of Earth turns inside out, and, yes, I transform into your demon lover."
Despite herself, Sedona wantonly trembled inside. "More than you already are?" she whispered, her heart rate frenzied and soaring.
"Especially, if you wear black cat flannel pajamas," he sinfully tempted.
"You won’t even let me wear a flannel nightgown, you bad cherub."
"You’ve forgotten the rules, my Sedona. If you wear a flannel nightgown, I get to rip it off. Have my wicked way with you."
Sedona twisted inside with raw passion. "Trick, and no treat for you. Or me. Since we’re here. Deep in bat do-do. It’s closing in on midnight. And the psi spies are still hunting us."
"Before dawn, my queen of the angels, I’ll make you fly. Next Halloween, black cat pajamas, and I’m your demon lover."

Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance ~ ~
Volcano’s Angelic Forecast for this week ~ ~
WHEN A GOOD ANGEL FALLS ~ Where angels fear to tread, 2012 Earth...Is a stranger on a superspeed motorcycle her savior from the brutal endtimes? ~ available from BookStrand ~ ~ ~ ~
Halloween Sexy Smooch from the Kougar...

Spooky Space...

After Midnight Greetings, Big Slinky Cats, the Kougar is worn out from her be-prepared-for-winter shopping trip today...meow-owie...
Oh quickie joy of joys, the Kougar Kat spotted a real live turkey, probably a hen, crossing the road in a small timber-creek area along her tame prairie road, as she returned to her lair.
And two nights ago, a couple of hours until dawn, the raw and eeriest sound of coyotes moi has heard to date. Howls, fierce yips, very nearby in the pasture...then, as those shrill scary sounds faded, another pack, farther to the north in the neighbor’s cattle pasture. Two competing packs of coyote critters?
Cosmos-loving Big Cats, take a strolling glimpse of the Space Spooky pics - just claw click the link below ~
This one the Kougar is calling ~ HALLOWEEN SPIDER IN SPACE ~ and here is the info ~

A giant black widow is lurking in the Milky Way, spawning young and zapping its surroundings with intense radiation. Hanging just above the galactic plane, the Black Widow Nebula is a cloud of dust, gas and stars about 10,000 light years from Earth. NASA's Spitzer Space Telescope captured wispy streams of dust, flowing like spider's legs from the centre of the nebula, where massive young stars are forming. These enfants terribles are actually spewing out radiation and particles that "are basically destroying their natal material", said Ed Churchwell, an astronomer at the University of Wisconsin in Madison, US, who led the observations. (Image: NASA/JPL-Caltech/E Churchwell/GLIMPSE)
Purring Voila! A revised version of the Kougar’s promo ~


Several of us Liquid Silver authors are doling out Eye Candy for Halloween, beginning at 12 Noon on Friday, October 31 ~ until 12 Noon on Saturday.
If you want to go trick or treating, the cyber way, begin at my blog for the EYE CANDY CHARMED CIRCLE. The link for the next blog will be posted on each author’s blog, until you arrive at Tina Holland’s site.
Some of us are offering an extra special treat!
The FIRST person, plus ONE drawn at random ~ who leaves a comment on my blog will have a choice of ~ either a PDF copy of RED LIONESS TAMED, or an angelic reading from my hero, Volcano, in WHEN A GOOD ANGEL FALLS.
Or...a PDF copy of BLACK CAT BEAUTY...a week after the release date.
The Kougar will be featuring some of her fave sizzle fantasies ~ WHAT IF? these sexy hunks came to her door costumed, or un-costumed like this? Then seductively inquired, "Would you like my erotic tricks, or do you want to be the sweet treat I nibble on?"
Licking-yum...and a big purr...the Kougar wants both!
Me-ow! Wow! Hunks for All Hallow's Eve. A big roaring, sizzle-soaring clue... one of them will be Adrian Paul, of course. Sigh and sweltering passions on high...
Bloggie houses to visit ~
1. Savanna Kougar ~ ~
2. Nina Pierce ~ ~
3. Jeanne Barrack ~ ~
4. Erotic Muses ~ ~
5. Paige Tyler ~ ~
6. Kate Willoughby ~ ~
7. Shara Lanel ~ ~
8. Tina Holland ~ ~

Now, just for the Big Cool Cats ~ a claw snippet from THE SPECIAL SECRET PROJECT ~

"You’re acting immature."
"Am I?" He stroked more sensually. "You can turn up that cute nose at me anytime." Super-swift, he touched a kiss to the tip of her nose. "God, you feel good laying on top of me." He pressed a lingering kiss on her chin.
Wendy closed her eyes, entranced with his sweet impassioned kiss, despite her best intentions to refuse him. "No," she murmured. "Bad Dark Hero."
He tasted her throat, as if he hungered, his warm sculpted lips delectable on her skin. Intoxicating her, he gradually dragged his mouth up to her ear. "I couldn’t have saved my brothers, or us, without you, SlashFlame Kitten, my superheroine." He grazed her earlobe, the texture of his mouth undoing her, and making her simmer exquisitely. "Do you want to know something else, my Wendy?"
She moaned, her own sensual hunger surprising her.
"You’re making us stronger."
"Stronger?" She could barely speak. Her flesh sparked with sensations of her flame, and felt decadent with pleasure.

Spooky space smooch from the Kougar...

Tuesday, October 28, 2008

Cyber Trick or Treat & Blocking My Sun

Big Halloween Cats, it's cyber trick or treat... meow-more treat, than trick on Halloween, mois promises. The Kougar will be featuring some her fave ~ what if they came to her door costumed, or un-costumed like this? Hunks for All Hallow's Eve. A big roaring, sizzle-soaring clue... one of them will Adrian Paul, of course. Sigh and passion on high...
Here's the promo ~ so far ~

Several of us Liquid Silver authors are doling out eye candy for Halloween. If you want to go trick or treating, the cyber way, begin at my blog. The link for the next blog will be posted on each author’s blog, until you arrive at Tina Holland’s site.
Some of us are offering an extra special treat.
The FIRST person, plus ONE drawn at random ~ who leaves a comment on my blog will have a choice of ~ either a PDF copy of RED LIONESS TAMED, or an angelic reading from my hero, Volcano, in WHEN A GOOD ANGEL FALLS.

Bloggie houses to visit ~
1. Savanna Kougar
2. Nina Pierce ~ ~
3. Jeanne Barrack ~ ~
4. Erotic Muses ~ ~
5. Paige Tyler ~ ~
6. Kate Willoughby ~ ~
7. Shara Lanel ~ ~
8. Tina Holland ~ ~

NOW, just for the Big Cool Cats ~

Blocking My Sun

All alone. She sighed with complete satisfaction, and planted her elbows in the beach’s almost too-hot sand. The surf shone brilliantly, green turquoise with thin lines of iridescent bubbles on the rolling gentle edges. Sorrenna wore her favorite red bikini just in case. So far, no one else had intruded.
She reclined back basking in the burning delicious rays of the sun, with only her thin towel between her and the sugar-fine incredible sand that conformed to her body. Was this a slice of heaven, or what? She smiled, let her eyelids flutter closed and relaxed.
"You’re blocking my sun."
The snarl in her voice should have warned him. She didn’t bother glancing up at him, or moving her perfectly curved body–designed for every carnal sin he’d ever had in mind. As he knew it would be. He’d been tailing her the past three weeks for a business client. Suddenly she’d left the city on vacation. The Dragon Lady of the corporate world, who advised when to fold ‘em and when to hold ‘em. When to expand. When to cut back.
Drave couldn’t believe his luck, even though luck favored him like blossoms attracted bees.
"Gonna do anything about it?"
Sorrenna ignored the crude insolent challenge. From his overwhelming potent smell as he baked in the high tropical sun, she figured he was muscled and male to the core. Sensually arching like a happy cat, she settled even more comfortably in her sand bed, deciding her best strategy was to wait him out. Men like him weren’t noted for their superior patience when dealing with the opposite sex. Still, it was more than annoying that he blocked her sunlight with his obviously huge body. Not one ray touched her skin.
"If I’d wanted shade, I would have brought an umbrella."
Drave had spotted her leaving the flower-prettified bar next to the lobby of his vacation hotel hangout, as he’d been checking in. He’d quickly thrown cash, practically dumped his bag on the bell hop, then stripped down to his suit when his feet hit the sand.
His breath hitched as she moved, tantalizing him brutally with not one thought of doing so. Scenes of her naked and writhing on his bed while he plundered her body with his, exploded in his head. Not to mention his loins exploded to instant need.
Down, he ordered his cock.
"Consider me your sun."
Sorrenna deigned to open one eye. All she saw was tree trunk-sized bronze legs.
After hissing a long impatient sigh, she reluctantly rolled over and wiggled into a comfortable position. It so figured. Finally she’d been able to sneak off on vacation and now this impossible lout wanted to be her ‘sun’. Maybe if she slipped into a nap, maybe if she snored, he’d get the hint pounded through his obviously thick skull like a damn ten inch nail.
Drowsiness seeped into her limbs along with the warmth of the sand. He didn’t leave.
"You’re a damn shade tree. Move."
Drave stared at her voluptuous ass, so round and such a blatant invitation, with only a red strip of cloth in his way. He groaned silently. His entire body growled for her, a damn bear claiming a honey-filled tree. He forced himself not to grab his cock, rising like a sentinel on watch in enemy territory.
Front or back, she was the kind of woman a man watched, raised up his on fists, while his cock took her with long pillaging thrusts. While she moaned with extreme pleasure. And let him do whatever he wanted with her.
"I can’t move."
Effing annoyed, Sorrenna stifled a massive sigh. Deciding to open one eye, she reluctantly peeked out the corner. Good God! The man’s organ towered like a friggin’ utility pole. Instantly her brain flashed a scenario of her saying, timber, as if she’d just sawed it off and the enormous pole now fell on top of her. Even worse, the ridiculous urge to cover herself with her arm almost caused her to do it. Forcing her casual reach, she idly lifted the corner of her towel, then pressed the electronic waiter.
"Large glass of ice water. As soon as possible, please."
Ice water. For an instant his brain froze as if she’d just dumped ice water on his head. In another firing of his neurons, he realized that wasn’t the head she was planning on freezing with her large glass of ice water. What the fuck hell now? He wasn’t leaving. His feet wouldn’t move. And, damn, his cock felt like an anchor effectively weighing him down to the spot. Not like he could hoist himself, despite the lack of other patrons, and sail away. Mentally, he shook himself, thinking through the heavy carnal fog.
"Raoul, over here. I’ll get it."
Sorrenna froze as if he’d drenched her with a barrel of ice water. Her heart pounded painfully. Now what? The odious beast blocked her sun. And blocked what she’d yearned for since the beginning of summer. To be alone, damnit! On vacation. Fury whipped through her, and she whipped around. Good god, it was even more humongous. Up close. And way too personal. She felt like her eyes crossed as she stared at his cock. Hell, no wonder he couldn’t move. A ton of cock weighed him down. She wanted to ask him if he’d ever considered reduction surgery.
Her voice blazed ice and rage, and sliced up his middle. Her gaze trained on his cock, however, had him happier than a callow youth noticed by his first crush. Fuck, her full high breasts still jiggled, barely contained by the red scraps of material. There wasn’t one part of her body his cock didn’t want. Raoul placed the large glass of ice water in his waiting hand, said nothing, and quickly departed. Drave figured he had only three options. Pour the water out. Pour it down his pants. Or let her pour it on his cock.
"Your ice water."
Sorrenna snapped her hand forward, grabbed the ice water, and felt it nearly slip from her grip because of the cold sweating glass. Hanging on tightly, she scowled more formidably, as she held up the glass in a warning for him to leave or suffer the consequences. When he stood steadfast, refusing to un-root himself, she rose to her knees. Grinning with dark glee, she targeted his giant cock with her gaze. Slowly, with his torment in mind, she lifted the glass higher and higher, until it hovered directly above the jut of his trunks. Then she poured. Gradually.
Clenching his eyes shut, and chomping his teeth together as if he bit the bullet, Drave let the icy agony take over his body. God. Hell, what ugly pain and what unexpected pleasure. The strange ecstasy stabbed through his cock, then flooded his loins. He quaked inside, the visual of her wrist turning the full glass of water so it spilled in a small stream onto the head of his cock, then the dream-like darkening of his trunks...weirdly, as erotic as hell. Even as the cold burned his balls like hellfire.
Shock, he decided. But fuck, he ‘enjoyed’.
Yes, his answer clanged through her like an antique fire engine bell. She knew it was also an emergency warning. This man was dangerous. Dangerous to her. Dangerous on every level. Although his utility pole cock had diminished in size. Not much. Still, the thrill of some victory bubbled through her veins. Gradually, she surfed her gaze up his body, noting the bloodless clench of his fists. The tough bands of bronze muscle. The dark V of hair on his chest. The swimmer’s breadth of his shoulders. Finally, the determined V shape of his chin.
"Another glass of ice water?"
Hell, he didn’t like it. But he’d stand her all day letting her pour whatever she wanted on his begging cock. Even though shards of pain blistered along his length. He felt her slow perusal up his body, as if erotic razor blades cut up his torso. He clenched his eyelids savagely, the image of her lips tasting him, soothing him. First, sliding over his cock’s head. Blood poured into his loins, threatening to raise the sentinel again. Fuck! He wanted to tell her to lower his trunks, to put her sweet sexy mouth on his cock and suck.
Damn fucking dangerous. And a glutton for icy punishment. Sorrenna figured, why not? At least, if she couldn’t enjoy the sun, she could perversely entertain herself. Especially, since he seemed so stupidly willing. Dolt. What a dolt head. Actually, from her position, she couldn’t see his head. Only his clean-shaved tanned chin, stalwart, male stubborn. And the big lobes of his ears. But, not his head. Or his cock’s head. Though, the enormous spear-like tip was outlined by his wet trunks.
Sitting back on her heels, she plucked up the e-waiter device.
"Another glass of ice water, extra large, please."
Damn, he shivered inside like a wind-buffeted leaf. Feeling again, the blaze-icy sting of water being poured on his pleading arousal. God, he wanted it again. And he didn’t. He wanted to watch her stream the erotic torture over his cock. But hell, not more than he wanted to jump her lusciously curved bones. Feel her struggle wildly beneath him, as he pleasured her to wanting him so desperately, she writhed like an utter wanton. Against his entire body. Then parted her wet thighs, crying for him to ride her to orgasm, into their oblivion. Theirs, alone.
"Yes, extra large."
Hell, she’d give his towering manhood its obvious due. It was definitely ‘extra large’. Crap, the whole man was extra large in stature. Or he wouldn’t be blocking her sun so effectively. Damn, she’d need an extra large glass of extra icy water to shrink that son o’ shooting sperm. Sorrenna nearly laughed hysterically. An image of her rolling, holding herself, laughing until her sides hurt grabbed her mind’s eye. Come to think of it, maybe that would cut it down to size. If she suddenly fell over in a screaming fit of laughter. Timber!!!
"Extra large for extra large."
Even though her voice dripped with a healthy dose of sarcasm, Drave’s ‘extra large’ bobbed appreciatively, straining the waistband of this trunks. Fucking hell, at least, her gaze remained fastened on his brave cock. But was that a suppressed giggle he’d heard? He bent forward, peering past the wet tent of his trunks to study her face. Her shoulders began to shake slightly, as if she controlled herself. She chewed on her cherry-plump bottom lip. And he would have bet a hefty sum, laughter glittered in her eyes. Hysterical laughter. Now the gorgeous swells of her breasts quivered.
"Go ahead."
Go ahead? Had she heard right? Her stifled giggles escaped like small bubbles. At first. Her shoulders shook faster. Then her laughter burst free, springing up from deep inside her belly. Louder and louder. Hugging herself Sorrenna collapsed back on her heels. Her laughter erupted uncontrollably, cascades of rising sound. Whenever she managed to open her eyes, she only laughed harder, since the wet jut of his trunks remained impressively the same. Extra large, his cock still towered above her. Although, his balled fists were now white beneath his tan.
Sorrenna laughed as if she hadn’t laughed in ages.
Timber?! Drave arched one brow, even as he ogled the sheer sexual beauty of her jiggling breasts like a damn deprived pervert. Her uninhibited laughter should have shrunk his libido down to a lesser size, and made his trunks feel a hell of a lot more comfortable. Nope. Like a besotted fool, he relished the sight of her unrestrained reaction to him, even though she howled harder every time she glanced at his unsinkable cock. My god, the delicate, yet lush line of her creamy throat, revealed as she laughed, tempted his mouth to consume her with kisses.
Laughter threatening to split her sides, Sorrenna fell over on her side, her arms wrapped around herself. She rolled back and forth, the hot sand beneath her towel a wonderful cushion, and not a deterrent whatsoever to her unceasing chortles. Faster and faster, she shook with her shrill guffaws. God, it hurt, and she couldn’t make it stop. And it felt good all at the same time. Tears streamed from the corners of her eyes. Now all she could do was lay weakly on her back, with absolutely no sun shining on her, and laugh.
"Make it stop. Go away."
No with a capital N, he wasn’t going away. Yeah, fuck, he could make ‘it stop’. Damn hell, he wanted to make it stop. But she’d never let him near her bed, let alone her precious all-perfect life, if he launched on top of her like a raunchy humping dog, and ravished her to a raw blazing lust. Here. In front of everyone. On a public beach. Not that he’d mind. He didn’t care with her. Truth to God. All he hellfire cared about was her. Having her. Fucking her forever.
"If I go away, I can’t make it stop."
If you go AWAY, it will stop, she desperately wanted to shout at the brainless male who looked like he could be a man-bull hybrid. But, her vocal chords refused to cooperate. Nearly exhausted, and boneless as a ragdoll, Sorrenna opened one eye. It was still there and still damned extra large. Helplessly, she vibrated with more chuckles. Some crappy unhappy vacation, she thought, yet, shook with more laughter. God, her sides hurt. Hell, her hand was so limp on her belly, she couldn’t lift it. Damn, except for her uninhibited laughter, her vacation had taken a vacation.
"Get lost."
Lost in you. Lost between your sexier-than-heaven thighs. Lost between the gorgeous swells of your breasts. Yeah, baby doll, I’ll get lost. Lost in you until your pussy begs and bucks for my hammering cock. Drave accepted the giant-sized glass of ice water, the cubes rattling against the sides of the sweating glass as he brought it before his chest. His cock didn’t know whether to shrivel like a coward or do an erotic bobbing happy dance. God, she was the perfect temptress as she lay still, conquered by her own laughter
"You’ll get lost every time I kiss you."
Yeah, sure. In what universe? Yet, her traitorous lips tingled, a tiny bit. It had been ages since she’d kissed a man. Balefully, and with one eye, she stared at the extra large glass of water above the man’s extra proud cock. Rivulets of moisture ran down the sides of the glass. Dripping down his beefy-sized, yet somewhat attractive hand. It was just too damn bad, for her, she’d laughed herself into exhaustion. Or, she could rise up and give his Mr. Extra Large another icy dose of her extreme displeasure. If he handed it over.
"Save me the trouble."
Drave fastened his gaze on her, as he’d never done on anyone or anything in his life. Even when facing down the bad guys, holding weapons bigger than he held, who wanted like every fucking hell, to take him apart piece by bloody-dripping piece. Then throw him to the fishes. The urge to turn the glass over, and slowly pour a stream of icy water on her gorgeous middle, then dive down and lap it off her silken skin, before one drop escaped, scorched through him hotter than the sun.
"Hell, I am blocking your sun. You should thank me."
October 28, 2008
His words rolled roughly over her flesh. And his bold stare penetrated her like she knew Mr. Extra Large wanted to penetrate her. Still recovering from her laughing fit, Sorrenna considered how to resolve her galling ridiculous situation. Mr. Determined Bull was not the type of man a woman appealed to for mercy from his humping lust. Quirky inspiration struck her the next moment. With the double whammy of her curiosity. Why not? She eyed the water glass for several seconds, then slid her gaze down to his cock. Then up. Then down again.
"Does it look like a bull?"
From her silent communication, Drave nearly dumped the glass of ice water on his own desperate cock, fiercely surprising himself. Still, her question stunned him even more. And he fucking figured, it had stunned her too. By her frozen expression, and the flash of wild fright in her eyes, quickly replaced with defiance. In a fraction of a second, he decided. Gritting his teeth, he slowly saturated the front of his trunks with icy water, outlining his desire for her. His cock complained, aching like fire.
" Does it look like a bull? Or, am I bull-sized? What do you think?"
p.s. Another synchronicity, strangely enough in a strange is the October 28, and there are now 28 flashes for Blocking My Sun...neato freako, Big Cats...

Cyber candy kisses from the Kougar...

Vampire Viagra...does it exist?

Purring-yum. Mr. Adrian Paul can be my vampire anytime...
Tornadic unceasing whirl of promo-ing for the Kougar today on several Yahoo loops, my Big Beautiful Cats...omygoodness-meow!

Today, on Title Magic was the first American Title V finalist interview with Edie Ramer. Voting begins online soon at Romantic Times. And for the rest of the week, there will be four more ATV finalist interviews. Plus, four more next week. Ultra cool, welcoming and learning about these aspiring authors, and authors which have already been e-pubbed, but qualified for Dorchester, as not published.

Tomorrow ~ moi's serial flash ~ BLOCKING MY SUN ~ continues...

Cruelty... Flash of the Caribbean Vampire

Cruelty can take many forms. I sit in the dark. In the back. In the corner farthest away from the gorgeous young women strutting their stuff beneath the pink-shimmering illumination inside the intimate private ballroom of a Caribbean mansion, belonging to a mysterious man everyone called the Vampire.
The lingerie designs they model not only excite the libido to a painful level, but each one is exquisitely unique and incomparably beautiful. I lust over most of them, my breath hitching ridiculously. God, I wanted to wear them. As I could have once. But, I’m too old. Too ugly. Too fat.
"May I offer you a drink, madam?" The man’s voice behind me was deep, impossibly deep, and definitely amused. I had no idea why he would find me amusing. Unless he found old and fat some sort of sick private joke? Yeah, mess with the fat woman and tempt the oldie into believing a man found her ‘interesting’. That’s a good one. Haha. Only I’m not laughing, creep.
"I believe you will find the mango sangria particularly refreshing."
"Mango sangria?" Stupid, stupid! Why take the bait? I should just ignore him. Damn.
"A sip. I wish you to try it."
"Wish all you want. No thanks." Go away. Go find another victim. Irritated, my cheeks flushing...thank god, it’s dark...I return my attention to the filmy glamor negligees. I wish I could feel the silk and lace, the sheer whirl of color as it swishes and slinks over my hourglass curves, as they once were. Not so many years ago. I want to look in the mirror again, admire my own beauty. Maybe be admired. If it’s the right man. Passion untamed...god, yes.
"Please, I need your opinion."
Suddenly, he’s sitting beside me. I blink like an owl.
"My opinion," I nearly stutter. No man can soundlessly move that fast, can he? His voice had come from my left. Now he sat on my right, his gaze focused on me as if he intended to feast on my face. Maybe he was, in a way. Maybe it was my blood he was after. I stifled a shiver, and chastised myself. The Vampire. I only recognized him because the magazine I freelanced for on the island, often featured him on the society pages. "Oh, I get it. For the magazine’s drink recommendations."
"If that pleases you, then, yes, Sapphira."
"What else?" Damn, why had I said that? I’d just opened the door...
"I wish to know your palate." Leaning back, he suavely crooked one finger.
I swallowed as if my life depended on it. I’d never heard of the Vampire interacting with anyone at his fantasy fashion shows. Yes, he attended the island’s elite social events, a stunning woman attached to his side, cleavage down to her navel. But not...
With debonair precision, a waiter from out of nowhere, it seemed, deposited two tall shapely glasses. The Vampire lifted his while I stared.
"To your health, Sapphira. Please taste."
Okay, Cici, the mag’s owner would kill me if she found out I hadn’t ‘tasted’. Besides, it would be a coup of a society story, even though I’d only agreed to write up the fashion show because her usual reporter retched with morning sickness.
I pick up the cool curvy glass, then convince my hand not to shake as I slightly raise it. "To your health, Mr. Vorragozi."
"Tell me what you think," he encourages.
Are his eyes sparkling strangely? It’s not real blood, is it? Sangria...doesn’t that mean blood? God help me, if I’m remembering right, it does.
I sip. It’s so perfectly yummy-mango, I sip again. And again. Four sips. Five. I force myself to set the glass down. "Amazing. Very amazing, Mr. Vorragozi."
"I prepared it just for you."
"Why?" My head begins a pleasant swim. I smile.
"Tell me, what’s your favorite lingerie?"
"Baby dolls," I blurt out as if I can’t contain myself. "Truth serum?" I ask, and hold up the glass.
"What would be your favorite color to wear?" His eyes glisten like black pearls.
"Red." My tongue is utterly disobedient.
"Yes, I must have you in red."
"Blood-red! What kind of cruelty..."
"Cruelty?" He inquires a moment after I’d firmed my lips, despite the maddening urge to blab like a chic lit heroine. I think his eyebrow is raised, but the darkness makes me wonder. Still, his tone is cool as his restaurant’s giant freezer. I know I’ve been in it, writing an article for Cici.
He waits with a patience I admire, or perhaps, he simply enjoys my mouse-like torture as I scurry in my mind to think of a way to escape.
"My age. I think it’s cruel." So there, Vampire. Maybe that will turn you ice cold with revulsion.
"How old are you, Sapphira?"
Do I hear the faint drumming of his fingertips? God, I’d love to take another drink. The glass taunted me like a singing Siren.
"Please tell me," he coaxed. Very persuasively.
It was either grab the glass and sip...or..."Fifty-eight." I harden my jaw, then avert my face. "Satisfied? Happy?" I slice my tone quite effectively, I believe.
"Would you care to guess my age?"
Neutral, his voice, yet tempting, a caress of black velvet. Oh yes, there’s that underlying amusement.
I gage my chances at shutting him down. Not damn likely, I realize.
Still...I’m a sucker for the right challenge.
"Forty something," I fling at him, tightly gripping my hands together. The Mango Sangria beckons and my mouth begs to taste ambrosia again.
He laughs...melodic and deep. Frissons of ecstatic pleasure seize my nerve endings. I sit paralyzed. Wishing I could move. But I couldn’t. I truly couldn’t.
I couldn’t even blink.
"I’ve been told thirty-five. Often." He made no attempt to hide his amusement. The hypnotic glitter of his eyes danced in the dimness, and felt like a gentle stroke on my face. Odd.
"Actually, I’m one thousand and forty-one."
What the hell kind of drug had he put in that drink?
Maybe, it was blood. His blood? Vampire addictive blood. Hadn’t I read that somewhere? Some romance novel from years ago...however my brain is too fuzzy to remember, as if I’d indulged in drinking a Fuzzy Navel. Damn.
I finally blink. "Forty-one?"
"You’ll enjoy the dark side, my pretty Sapphira," he promises.
"The dark side," I mumble. Straightening my spine, I announce, "I don’t do the dark side."
"Do?" He leans forward slightly. "I believe you’ll enjoy ‘doing’ me. As much as I will passionately enjoy ‘doing’ you."
Shocked to my core...wherever that was, I scoot my chair back, then attempt to stand. It wasn’t happening. My legs have transformed to rubber. "I am leaving." My chin high, I press down on the table to shove myself upwards.
Instantly...before I can even think about blinking, he is beside me, his hand on my arm as if he intends to escort me somewhere.
"Go away," I snap, only able to raise myself part way. My temper emerging, I confront the devil vampire, "What drug did you put in my drink?"
"No drug. Merely a special flower essence."
"What? The flower of Bloodroot?" I emphasize ‘blood’ while trying to pull my arm out of his gentlemanly grip. And why the hell does he smell like patchouli and expensive cigar smoke, some exotic mixture of the two which intrigues me more than it should.
"Several blooms from our local flora," he calmly purrs. Again amusement hides in his voice, highly irritating me.
"Let go." I stiffen.
"My Sapphira." His tone humors me. "I will not have you harmed."
"And spiking my drink with ‘special’ essences won’t harm me?" My tone goes for his jugular.
"It will only enhance our risque’ pleasures."
"I’m not risque’ pleasuring with you," I storm.
I would have tried jerking my arm away. But damn, I knew he wasn’t letting go. The horrid, overly sexy man.
"Yes, you will." He’s leaned down to my ear, his tone intimate dark bait I yearn to leap for like a silly fish.
"No, I won’t." Righteous temper is not confined to youth. "I don’t care what ‘special essence’ you put in my drink."
"My Sapphira," he vampire purrs. "Yes, you will."
In a fit of temper I stomp on his foot. Though, really, I’m not wearing tramp chic spiked heels.
Yeah, my marshmallow-sole sandals are going to skewer his foot. He laughs, a low chuckle, just for my ear.
Damnit, I like the virile sound. My insides turn all buttery fluttery.
So what.
"I’ll scream," I warn.
"I’ll kiss you," he warns. skitters through me like a thousand landing butterflies, their wings flapping.
I wiggle my arm in his grip, a useless exercise. Useless like me trying to run on the beach every morning. The only thing it got me was severely sore knees.
"Do you drink blood?"
The words dare their freedom before sanity claims them back.
Oh heart thumped to beat any band. Ricky Ricardo thwacking the bongos in a fast Latin rhythm during an episode of I Love Lucy, seizes my mind. Does the Vampire hear?
How superior are his senses? Oh god, he has to be a Vampire. What else?
"You’re trembling, Sapphira." He picks up the Mango Sangria. "Another sip?"
"You didn’t answer my question," I counter. Damn it to hell, my voice quavers like a helpless gothic heroine. And I ache to grab hold of the glass. Sip, then keep on sipping.
"Would you like me to taste your blood?"
Seduction. Temptation. The ultimate sexual purr. His voice, a sound barely above a whisper, possesses my ear. Not just the sound. The rim of my ear tingles, pleading for the feel of his lips. The grazing of this teeth.
Omygod. The touch of his fangs?
"Does my rapid neck pulse of absolute fear thrill you?" I dare. With the truth. Why not? He must know. I feel the quick heavy throb below my ear and hate it.
"You thrill me, Sapphira." He hovers the glass before my lips. "One sip."
"Tell me the truth," I desperately bargain. "Then I’ll sip."
"Which truth, my beloved?"
Beloved...what the freaking hell? This climbed the ladder of creepy exponentially, the way he’d spoken it. As if it were a true endearment. Omygawd.
"Whatever ‘truth’ is most convenient, of course," I snipe at him. Ripping my gaze away from the sweating glass of Mango Sangria, I try to swallow away my awful thirst. Useless.
"In some respects you haven’t changed, my Sapphira."
"You act as if you know me," I snap back like a hoyden. And know, once again, I’d pulled a bonehead, was that a boner in his black linen pants?
"I do know you," he asserts in a dark purr.
I blink several times, lifting my gaze.
"How? We’ve never met before."
I look down again, expecting not to see what I’d seen. Suddenly, I can’t feel my breath. It’s still there, standing proudly. All too proudly.
"On the island. No, we’ve never met, my Sapphira."
I stare at his hard-on for what feels like an eternity. Aware that he’s amused like some idle harem prince.
"Where?" I mumble, and jerk my gaze away.
The glass or his overly large cock. I’m trapped between the two.
"Sip. I’ll tell you."
"Let go. I don’t want to know you." Yes, a deep vein of stubbornness runs in my family. Hellfire, I wonder which vein he wants to suck on most. And why? He could be Mr. Suave Vampire and suck on any of the four young beauties now eyeing us. They blink their bright-lantern, doe-big eyes as if the magnetic poles are about to shift, tilting the known world upside down. Okay, it could happen. But if it were, there’d be mass panic. I could escape into the abyss of catastrophe.
"Yes, you do," he assures.
"They want to know you."
"They?" he asks as if I’ve actually caught him off guard. Yeah, right, Mr. Huge Boner vampire. It’s still amazingly upright and HUGE. I stare, rather than gaze at what I can never be again. Never was, actually. Beautiful, yes. Not that kind of thinner-than-thin glamor, chic always my constant companion.
"Go, suck their blood," I prompt, closing my eyes. Could I just fall forward, dead weight, and crawl beneath the table...damn, desperation does breed it’s own insanity.
"I find their blood unappetizing," he elegantly intones, right out of the movies. "You used to enjoyably suck on my cock."
Shocked, no, shocked was not the word. My blood iced. Another ice age? The next instant my blood flamed. Global warming? There was no one word. I’m shocked in the extreme...but, my pique won out, stronger, fiercer, faster...
"Which one would you prefer me to suck on first, Mr. Vorragozi? Your abnormally large dick? Or, should I suck up the rest of the Mango Sangria? How about if I just suck your blood?"
"Dhalyon." His voice rasped. I suppose because he was actually ‘turned on’ by my offer.
"Dhalyon," I repeated, not understanding him.
"My first name is Dhalyon."
I scowl and consider if I should bite his dick. Viciously.
"I wish you to know my first name before you ‘suck’ on any part of my very willing anatomy, Sapphira."
"How very gentlemanly of you," I snarl. "But you haven’t chosen what you want me to suck on first. I gave you three choices." I emphasize ‘suck’ loudly. And almost feel as though I could stare the Vampire down. Almost. Instead the four beauties openly stare at us. I smile at them. Then give a little wave.
"Cruelty." His growl was suave. "That I have not possessed your spirit."
"Cruelty?" I ask, stunned in no small measure by fate’s circular pattern.
"That I have not possessed your spirit in my bed. In my life."
Something twists inside my middle, large as an anaconda. I want an explanation, so fierce I can taste it. Yet...from him. The Vampire.
"Which one?" I utter. And, I have no idea why, except my mind has been left behind in this latest beyond-weird development.
"I had hoped to make this easier on you, my special one."
"By what? Drugging me with Mango Sangria?" I stab the blade of my voice into him. Sarcastically.
Again, my heart thumps like bongo drums. "Okay, not the Mango. Or the Sangria. But whatever drugging ‘substances’ you used."
Why I feel compelled to correct anything, I don’t have a brain cell left with any clue. Maybe, I merely fill the silence. A vortex of silence. Suddenly.
"I could disappear with you," he says so softly I’m not certain I actually hear him. Except, inside, I know.
I blink. I sweat. I blurt. "Like a bat? A bat out of hell."
"No. Like smoke. Poof."
"Poof," he darkly whispers. "We would appear wherever I choose to take you."
October 27, 2008
Okay, my insides have never felt so gooey-spooked. My eyes blink as if they’ve just snapped toothpicks in two. And I swallow, way past *I’m seeing-a-ghost fright*. The closest I recall is Rosemary’s Baby. Now, that was creepsville scary. Yep, and I’ve never gotten over that movie, either. Hell, I don’t like Halloween Haunted houses. Or slasher movies. Or...hell’s bells, as a kid, I didn’t watch the Twilight Zone after one episode, my nightmares were so gargoyle-flying hideous.
"Wouldn’t that look suspicious?" I give another wave to the four beauties, their interest still captured, as much as I’m still captured.
Oddly, I feel him vibrate with laughter. At odds with his statue-like phallus. Yeah, keep the Vamp amused. Maybe, he won’t poof me ‘somewhere’.
"Vampire Viagra?" I ask, staring pointedly at his well-defined, mushroom-shaped point. Damn, what a mouthful...if? If I ever had sucked his dick like he said...had I?
He shakes with more laughter. Until, his finger claims the flesh beneath my chin. I’m surprised by the heat, not by the length of his lone finger. He compels, more than lifts my face. His eyes, dark as midnight, flash like summer lightning.
"You were always my inspiration."


P.S. My Big Cool Cats...the 27th flash written of the 27th day of October...purr...Halloween synchronicity?

Twenty-seven smooches from the Kougar...

Sunday, October 26, 2008

Flash of Desire Behind the Mask

Oh, my Beautiful Kitties, the sundown sky glowed with yummy apricot light. Me-yow! Though, the winds are howling up a storm, and mighty nasty cold. It’s supposed to, no, the Kougar yowls.
Today on the
Liquid Silver SEx blog, romance author, Nina Pierce, was the sexy mistress of the mask and secrets. Roar and tease, did her flash fiction turn up the masked heat of passion. And the angel man pic, yep, Nina found him, too.
Tomorrow, my Big Spooky Cats, moi’s serial flash Cruelty... Flash of the Caribbean Vampire ~ will be continued.
And, also tomorrow, Volcano’s Angelic Forecast for this week will be at the Siren-BookStrand Authors blog.

Now, just for the Big Cool Cats ~ this is the beginning of a story the Kougar has been wanting to write for a couple of years now...finally, it has begun in flash fiction form...

Desires of the Mask ~

Searching, Shazetta slipped among the night’s attendees at the elegant masqued party, held every full moon, to encourage the art of seduction. She had arrived for one purpose. A virgin, she was not supposed to desire this. Yet, the unholy ache possessed every fiber of her being, especially her breasts. Even now, her nipples begged painfully, straining against the tight satin of her ebony gown’s bodice. Where was he? The one man willing to do as she asked. No, as she would plead. On bended knee, if need be. Goddess of the Moon, how her breasts throbbed, burning and demanding.

Observing her arrival, D’rourke denied himself, once again. She was a virgin, and he could not merely romance her, then use his seductive skills only so far. Not with her. He looked back at the woman before him, and smiled. His mask, a simple swathe of midnight blue silk, revealed his lips. The woman’s eyes answered, a flirtatious dance certainly pleasing to him. Bright jewels in her elaborately feathered mask, her eyes shone with sophisticated passion. Yet, she would be displeased to know, his cock did not stiffen for her charms. No, he had glimpsed her, Shazetta, if only briefly.

Ignoring the glances of invitation from men she knew would never give her what she desperately desired, Shazetta glided over the pearlescent glimmering floor, her severe agitation belied by the grace of her stride. A moan of pain remained deep in her throat. Goddess save her, she blazed unbearably. Her searching gaze darted back and forth, from the confines of her mask, a delicate flow of black and red feathers, the length of plumage completely veiling her long dark auburn tresses. Halting abruptly, she spied his lean handsomeness. The man, who caused whispers about his sensual use of a whip.

D’rourke politely dismissed the beauty who did not hold his cock in thrall. Captured, he languidly pivoted toward the woman he should never touch. The virgin he should dismiss from his erotic daydreams. She stared at him, unmoving as a wary swan. He swept his gaze over her slender, yet rounded curves, so lovely in shape, he groaned inwardly. Did she possess a clue how much he lusted ~ no, more than lust ~ wanted her? As if fate determined her footsteps, she slipped toward him, her black gown caressing her breasts with each movement.
His heart thundered, as his manhood jutted.

Shazetta moved closer, hope fluttering her heart and racing her blood. His cock had turned to beast, threatening the fine dark fabric of his trousers.
"My swan, how may I assist you?"
"I can’t breathe," she whispered, and felt her bosom heave merely at the roughened timbre of his voice.
"Shall I catch you? Or go for–"
"No." She grabbed his forearm. "Don’t go." She paused, summoning every spark of courage she could. "I need your whip."
"Whip?" His gaze darkened to the intensity of thunderclouds.
"On my breasts." She rushed the words forth. "Please, please, please, I beg of you."

Flash of desire kiss from the Kougar...

Moon Flight ~ The Truth is Out There...

Ah, the sunset this evening...maaarvelous, darling Big Cats. First, a soft blaze of melon colors, then this incredible luminous red tangerine color, a gorgeous foil for the silhouetted trees and the darkening tame prairie.
And, what did the Kougar accomplish today? Besides, endless promo on the Yahoo loops, and learning more about the paranormal world from author, Esther Mitchell, who is an investigator and expert, on The Haunt ~ ~ why, the Kougar just finished her interview questions for author, Nina Pierce’s blog, Around the Writer’s Block. November 10 is the magic date. Not only is Nina a fantabulous erotic romance author, but her blog often displays the most wonderful male eye candy...yum, sexy-hot.

Now, just for the Big Curious Cats ~ the explanation of the pic above ~ ~
I took these pics 12 seconds apart on 10/17/08 around 3:30 am in Danville, Indiana. After downloading I noticed the very small triangular object in the lower right in only one of the photos. The shuttle was not up. Any idea what it may be? Satellite? Included is a cropped version as a close up. --MEH
Moon flight cool, meow! The Kougaress was immediately reminded of what Fox Mulder says ~ the truth is out there ~ yowl, in front of the moon, out there in space-landia.

Just for the Big Cool Cats ~ the beginning of the Kougar’s WIP ~

Death by Halloween and Cigarettes ~

For the last time I studied my face in the rearview mirror of my sister’s old minivan, on loan since my car was being fixed. Not that it mattered now. It was near midnight, but the parking lot was fairly well lit. I saw nothing unusual in the narrow mirror. I was still aging and ugly, my eyes dull and lifeless. I had nothing left inside me. Not a drop of spirit.
Motorcycles, most of them chromed-out Harleys, glistened magically. The wand of technology waved for bad boys, I thought. They were lined up, modern steeds waiting to be mounted, ridden away. Maybe raced away for the mad-freedom sport of it. Or raced away to escape. There were a few muscle cars, rebuilt sixties classics. And a few pickups, pumped-up shiny and showy as Arnold, the Governor of California.
"A high-end hangout," I muttered, raised my slumping shoulders. Lifting my arm to the door handle, I struggled to open the van door. I was so fatigued, so ill every move was a ridiculous struggle. Slowly, painfully, I stepped out and down. Shutting the door with just enough force, I pocketed the keys. At least, they could figure out who I was when...
Folding my arms, a pitiful attempt to hold myself, comfort myself, I rested against the door to gather what strength I could. Gazing across the highway I’d driven down on, the full moon hung over the hay field. She was glorious, breathtaking, and dressed in mandarin orange. "I love the moon," I murmur. "Perfect," I whisper up to her.
Official Hallow’s Eve was a few days away. Halloween, I’d had a few good ones. Fun ones. I’d treasured the freedom of running the neighborhood at night with my guy buddies. Later, the freedom to wear the elaborate costumes I created, to become for one night, what I truly wished to be. Instead of conforming to the demands of society. Instead of always blending in just enough – so no one would get too freaked out. Too uncomfortable.
Sighing, I forced myself to move away from the minivan door. The slight crispness of autumn helped me move across the parking lot toward the Pit Stop. It was surrounded by cow pastures, but was only thirty, forty minutes out from a major midwestern city and a small university city. Plus there were all the little agricultural towns dotting the area.
Transfixed I halted. Easy to do at a snail’s pace. The 67 Barracuda had been hidden by an apple-red shiny pickup. It wasn’t silver like mine had been – way back when. I’d had that baby up to around 120 mph a few times. This one was a marine blue from what I could tell, maybe navy. Probably not the original paint...looked too good. With no one around, I tentatively stroke the hood. If there was some sort of alarm system I was in trouble. But it remained silent, even looked appreciative. "My parting gift," I whisper. "Thanks."
Breathing heavily, my body sluggish and stiff, I continue toward the Pit Stop’s entrance. Raucous music blasted louder and louder, a honky tonk band of some type. I’d never been inside before, just seen it as I whizzed by on the highway. One of the old steel doors, somewhat grimy with nicotine, had been propped open. An oblong beam of light cut into the darkness. Smoke curled inside the light, mystical, as if created by a fantasy sorcerer. Yep, last chance for my imagination to run wild. My lips curl up into a minimal smile, all I can manage.
This should do it. This place was a death trap, especially for me. I regretted what I was about to do to the people inside. There might even be someone who truly cared. But I figured it wouldn’t phase most of the experience-hardened, hard ass regulars. The odor drifting outside now was a warning. Normally I would have hastily escaped. Or snail-escaped as fast as I could, while holding my breath, and hoping against hope, I wouldn’t collapse, unable to breathe, choking on my asthmatic phlegm.
Nope, I forge ahead, trying not to hold my breath, and step inside. I feel like a doddering old woman.
The stench is gawd awful. So hideous, I gag immediately, then cough loudly, repeatedly. The toxic buildup of cigarette smoke is so heavy it lands on me like a smothering blanket. I have no chance at all. Coughing and gagging furiously, I fight to breathe. My lungs ache, and feel like they’re being ripped out of me. My breaths are frantic, erratic and soon became a desperate high-pitched wheezing. My throat closed. No air came in. No air went out. I clutch my throat, collapsing. Landing on the floor heavily, I jerk, twitching as if I’m having a severe seizure. Instead of dying by asphyxiation.
I wait to die. I’d hoped it would be quick – being severely allergic to cigarette smoke. A face appeared over mine. A man’s face. He almost looked angelic. Except his eyes glowed as he bent closer, demonically glowed. A scream burst up to my constricted throat. Not heard, of course. I felt him start to lift me. Then my mind blanked to nothing. I felt nothing. Knew nothing.
I didn’t even know I wasn’t leaving my body – my soul not rising toward the light. I didn’t know I wasn’t on the other side. Free of my afflicted, worn out body. Free from a life time filled with excruciating depression, failure and misery. Free...
Suddenly, my hands touch cold nasty asphalt. Nasty with God knew what kind of garbage. I heard myself breathing before I felt it. Next, I heard my heart drum loudly. "What the hell!" I shoot upwards to a sitting position. In the back of my mind, I realize I sat up without struggle. I no longer feel horribly depleted and exhausted.
"You’re going to be fine." Whoever he was, his voice sought to soothe me. I open my eyes. He squats beside me, his features not that visible. We were in a non-lit part of the parking lot.
"Why the fuckin’ hell am I behind a dumpster?" I blinked furiously, my eyes watering. "Why am I not dead?" My voice was tornadic anger because that’s what whirled viciously inside me. "And who the hell are you? You’ve got demon eyes."
"It is close to Halloween." His voice was mild, amused, yet it was a purr-pleasing timbre to my feminine ear. "What’s wrong with your eyes?" His gentle tone suggested pure concern.
"What else?" I snapped. "Cigarette smoke." Trying to make out his features I turn my head toward him. But he had stood up. Good gawd! He was sexy! What I could see, his torso revealed by a long-sleeved knit tee-shirt – his hips, his legs outlined by what light was available. Encased in tight, just-right worn jeans – but not obscenely tight. I convulsively swallowed. My mouth watered. Not making me happy at all!
I was supposed to be dead. Dead! Dead! Dead! Dead and gone. Dead and happy, very happy on the Other Side. On the Other Side with family and friends and all my pets. "What are you a Halloween demon? Checking out the sights before the big night? Boo! Kill at midnight," I mock, not holding back. I’d held back for most of my life. Damn, the fuck! I wasn’t supposed to be alive. A blue light, soft, suddenly penetrated my eyes. The burning ceased.
"Serial killer demon? Looking for a Samhain sacrifice. Torture, then kill me? Is that your ghoulish pleasure?" I angrily stormed, wondering about the blue light. "Drink my blood in some sort of ritual sacrifice? – At least, I’ll be dead then." I glare up at him. "I could do without the torture part!" I shout.
When he said nothing, I twisted onto my right hip. "This is gawd awful cold...down here," I complain sharply. Immediately, his hand was before me, offering assistance. What the bloody hell? I took hold of his hand. All he could do was kill me – torture me and kill me. What was new in my life, about this situation? Except the methodology, of course.
His strength, the easy way he pulled me up, surprised me. Not that he didn’t look lithe muscley and strong in than Adonis god sort of way. He did. Goddess in heaven, he did.
"I already drank your blood," he mesmerizing purred, virile purred. My terrible urge to flee battled against my molten-warming loins. He didn’t let go of my hand.
I sucked in a breath. was true. They did exist. "Vampire, are we?" I raise my brows. Maybe he could see my expression in the semi-darkness. Then I felt the gradual trickle – like I was inside a dream. My hand shot up to the side of my neck. Touched blood – what felt like blood. I looked down at my hand. Down at the small smears. "Am I one of the undead?" I inanely asked, thinking of every vampire campy romance book title I’d ever seen, and chuckled over. The offbeat cleverness of the titles appealed to me and tickled what funny bone I had left.
"Undead because you didn’t die." His soft masculine purr was unnerving, not to mention the man himself.
"And," I drawl. Fear raced through me along with fury. I wanted to challenge him, "why am I not dead? – Exactly," I demand, and glare again. His hand felt attached to mine. In a good two-people attracted way. But also as if he possessed supernatural hypnotic powers.
He didn’t answer. He gazed back at me, compelling, thinking, analyzing. Analyzing me? The situation? Or both?
"At least," I slice with my tone – because I didn’t care. "You could tell me why I’m not dead."
"I want you," he stated in that unnerving purr. He seemed to draw me a bit closer. I went, the ole’ moth to the flame can’t help it thing. Well, it would hardly matter if I flame-sizzled to my death. – Would it?
"What the hell for?" I slashed, my redhead temper ruling. "A blood bank?"
"You do taste exquisite ." He pulled me closer, as if my hottest desire was to be closer to him. Maybe it was, I wasn’t exactly sure. I knew one thing I wasn’t fighting him. "I will require your blood. And I will require sexual copulation from you."

Moon flight kiss from the Kougar...

Saturday, October 25, 2008

Almost Kissed by the Vampyre...

Good late evening, my Beautiful Big Cats, it’s turned cold and wet on the Kougar’s tame prairie. And this year has brought a bumper crop of not only apples, but of hedge apples ~ those large bright green bumpy lumpy globes *are they actually a fruit?* ~ which are reported to ward off the evil cockroach if placed within the house. Thus, that possibility had the Kougar collecting a few of them, then rolling them toward the front door in a game moi is calling ~ Hedge Apple Bowling for Fun and Dollars.
Ah...and another deep insightful thought...a sarcastic yowling *yeah*...from the Kougar. Hey, you could be better off bitten by a Vampire, than being conned by the Blood Suckers of Wall Street, the Banker Bailout and the Federal Reserve. That is, if your blood wasn’t completely drained and you gained eternal life, thus, without any need for health insurance. Yep, instead of having the life blood of your money, your Cd’s, your 401 K’s, and your pension sucked dry ~ you could be sucking dry those who would be sucking you dry...bloody justice? Meow and flashing show of Kitty fangs, novels have been written for lesser reasons.
Roar and artistic romantic score, my Big Cover Art Loving Cats, take a swift stroll over to ~ ~ and check out Denise’s new cover art. Flaming fantasy gorgeous. And! She has a fabulous interview with the cover artist, JAMES GRIFFIN ~ ~
Yes, a purr of author contentment, the Kougar is making good progress on her contracted WIP, and received another contract today. The big bite pressure is on! Tail slashing and roarrroorr...
Hmmm, talk about writing inspiration...maybe, it should be Tails from the Crypto Critters, instead of Tales from the Crypt. Last night on Coast-to-Coast am, there was a fascinating report by Linda Moulton Howe, on the eye witness account of Thunderbirds, Pterodactyls and Bird Men...yep, not large birds the size of a man, like a giant owl, but face-to-face encounters with a creature who had the face, chest, arms and legs of a man, but with talons for feet and wings the width of a, meow about goosebumps...the Kougar is forced to wonder how many of these Crypto Critters sneak out on Halloween because...well, who would notice...maybe...

Just for the Big Cool Cats ~ the latest revision and continuation of the Kougar’s wip ~ Arrival...

"Beware, the Bloodsuckers," Kristyn dramatically intoned . The latest news about Wall Street’s plunge straight toward hell streamed across the top of her computer’s monitor. On the TV, in the background, Conan O’brien posed, shook his red hair like a rooster on steroids, and paraded for the approving squawk of his audience.
Once the website had fully loaded, Kristyn, middle-aged unpublished writer, blinked in sheer disbelief as she read and clicked. Leaning forward, she stared closer at her 19" screen. Not only with disbelief. A rabid curiosity seized her. The ink-black and blood-red, graphic-impressive site all about vampyres was definitely a spooky thrill, and highly informative, and had certainly aided her research for the erotic romance story she’d just started. But...omygawd...
"Can’t be real," she muttered. Hunching forward, a bad habit, Kristyn squinted her eyes as she often did, since she was near-sighted. And her eyeglasses only caused dizziness. "Stranger than fiction," she muttered again, amusing herself as she re-read the advertisement written in old-fashioned font on a parchment scroll. "There are more things in heaven and earth than are dreamt of...Shakespeare," she murmured.
Eagerly desired: Those humans who wish to be cherished
while performing the invaluable service of feeding our visiting
galactic brethren, the Translexion Vampyres, who arrive to
battle the gathered Dark Forces, and also arrive to assist us
in bringing forth the enlightened progress of Earth.
May It Be Blessed So
Shaking her head slightly, she read over the advertisement once again – scrutinizing for anything that could tell her if this was a hoax, just for scary fun – or for real. Bizarre real. An avid listener to Coast-to-Coast AM, Kristyn had studied paranormal subjects and the metaphysical most of her life. She kept an open mind to any possibility, no matter how weird or far-out – part of her nature ever since she could recall. Besides, she had her own tried and true intuitive abilities.
Nothing with vampyres though. She wasn’t into the whole Hollywood bloodsucker horror thing. Although a gory red-running feed on the golden parachute CEO’s, and on the spa-luxuriating executives who’d just been bailed out by the tax payer...well, there was a movie she’d cheer for, and watch.
Suddenly something sizzled in the pit of her stomach.
"Wow," Kristyn whispered. Sitting back a bit, she blinked several times and wondered how many ‘humans’ had bitten, then been bitten – ha, ha. How many had already decided to be ‘cherished’. Only those who liked vampire dress-up, got off on blood drinking – obsessed over the whole tall, dark and vamp mystique?
"Maybe it’s just a publicity stunt for some upcoming movie project."
Scrolling down, she read the cautionary warning.
Be fairly warned. Those humans who chose this path
will have chosen a journey that cannot be undone.
Search your soul, your heart, your mind and spirit,
dearest one. Think from the deepest recesses of your being –
if this journey belongs to you. Before you speak these
ancient upon ancient words. Before you promise yourself
in the service of this sacred binding spell.
Tingling eerily, Kristyn slowly read the words of the spell, that if spoken aloud would bind one in service agreement to a Translexion Vampyre. However they were different from home-grown Earth vampyres? She shrugged. She certainly had no clue.
"It’s in english, how ‘real’ can it be?" she muttered to herself. Should she speak the words out loud? Her perverse wild streak duked it out with her ultra-careful wary side.
More eeriness shivered through her. Last evening’s vivid scene played in her mind. When the hellishness of her life had, once again, overcome her. And she’d insanely shouted – she might as well let a vampire suck her blood, kill her – words she’d never spoken before, never even thought of before. She’d morosely included that if a guillotine was close by, she’d use it. Since a fast falling slice of a blade had to be a fairly quick death.
At the time, she’d meant her words.
After her desperate explosion against the terrible hell of her life, she’d considered how odd it was, she’d yelled about feeding a vampire – given she was the scream or faint-at-the-sight of gushing blood kind of woman. In the past the very thought of being fed on was abhorrent, icky, nauseating... disgusting. Except she’d been researching romance novel vampire heroes – and then there was the whole Buffy and Angel thing...the fantasy just too good. Too wickedly enticing...
Locking her fingers, Kristyn stretched upwards. She kept her gaze focused on the ‘sacred spell’. Eventually releasing the long stretch, she sighed down to her worn-out soul. Truth-to-tell, she was tired of thinking ‘anything’ and ‘everything’ through to the nth degree in her life. Tired down to her fifty-something bones.
She spoke the spell. Added a dramatic flourish.
She waited. Silently.
On the television screen former Captain Kirk entertained a squeamish Conan with reality, how he collected stud sperm. And life, the dull hellish horror it was, moved forward...unceasing in its torture.
Summoning up Coast-to-Coast AM on internet streamlink, she turned off the tv, then continued her non-existent writing career.
Arrival..., the webmail was titled. Relenting to her curiosity, she opened it, though usually most webmail moved straight into cyber delete.
Your journey on beloved Earth begins anew, our dear one. Who you seek in sacred incantation, the Vampyre you have summoned, arrives...
"Too creepy," she murmured. Shivers began, then rapidly escalated to nasty goose bumps.
To most you may be one person, to me you are my cherished world...the masculine whisper invaded her mind. Instantly Kristyn felt shrouded in deepest darkest shadow.
Not moving, holding her breath, Kristyn waited, half-expecting her lights to flicker off, and her computer screen to go blank. Then, she’d be left in total darkness, at the mercy of...a vampire? Her stomach tightened painfully. What now?
Do not be afraid, I await you now.
Stalker? Was someone just outside her window? The blood pounded in her ears, a roaring empty sound. Unlikely, since she was out in the middle of cattle country. Still, psychos could be anywhere at anytime. And this was precisely why she never watched horror movies. Fear stabbed you in the heart way before the knife plunged repeatedly into the terrorized victim’s chest.
‘Do not be afraid’, how insane was that? Kristyn quaked inside at the thought of what she would hear next, and from the words she’d heard before. Those words had been oddly powerful, definitely unique. And poetic. Yes, she had heard whoever, whatever. That she didn’t doubt. Whether it was someone outside her window, whether it was actual telepathy, or if the government spooks were playing cruel Halloween games, using their cell tower thought-implanting technology...she didn’t know.
The real eeriness, the one haunting her down to her bones, was how similar the words were to the ones she’d seen on the Vampire website.
Clicking the mute button on the media player, she focused on listening, while cold shivers chased each other up and down her spine. Waiting, she heard only the loud whoosh of her own breath as she released it, then the fast drumming beat of her heart. Weapons, she needed a weapon.
Too bad she never ordered that cattle prod. And she didn’t have a gun. Not that a cattle prod or a gun actually worked to stop a vampire. Wooden stake...maybe, there was on out in the old barn. Silver bullet...yeah, in this bad economy silver was too damn scarce for bullets, anyway. Garlic...the organic garlic powder out in the kitchen. But, what did she do? Sprinkle it on him? Before he took that first bite?
Suddenly, the shrill yip-yip of hunting coyotes burst into the silence, coming from the north pasture behind her. As the pack moved closer, closing in on what they hunted, probably an unlucky rabbit, the sharp wild yips escalated in sound. Her nerves rattled to an unbearable pitch, she shook her head, trying to calm herself.
Rising slowly and silently, half-frozen with fear, she moved toward the window. Willing her hand not to shake, she finally pulled back the makeshift curtain. The chase sounds of the coyotes gradually faded, then ceased altogether.
I await you in the full light of the blazing orange moon. Come to me, Kristyn.
Where? Her mind asked the question sarcastically, before any common sense had kicked in. Shut up, she told herself, then peeked out the window like a certified idiot. It was the wrong window to see anything. Sure, like she was going to go back and look out the bathroom window, where the nearly full moon’s brightness lit up the western pasture.
Hell, how hard was her heart pounding? Her chest hurt. "That’s all I need, is a heart attack," she whispered. "Well, hell, if I die, he can bring me back to being undead."
For a moment of relief, Kristyn tried to smile, and be amused by her own dry humor. She failed.
Come to me, my treasured woman. I stand near your double doors. I await your beauty.
You have a big wait. I am not beautiful.
Stunned by the thought she might be mind-talking with Someone, she dropped the curtain, and spun around. That’s when it struck. A lightning bolt out of the blue. Or, in her case, a bolt out the star-sprinkled black sky. Because suddenly, she battled the terrible urge to head back to her bedroom, walk to the back doors, open them...
Stop it! she ordered herself. Damn, I feel like Jello.
Oh yeah, calling 911 would work now, she told herself. Great idea. Sure. If she was actually mind-speaking with a Svengali-like vampire...if he was bloodthirsty, it would be all over, including the screaming shouts.
Damn! My heart feels like it’s stuck in my throat.
I promise our first bite together will not be painful, my Kristyn. Come tome, You will not regret your choice.
Like I would trust a vampire....if you are a vampire.
I am your Vampire, my beauteous Kristyn.
Leave, she commanded. Why not? God, she prayed, ‘a little help here. No, a lot of help!
I have arrived for you, my Kristyn. Let the moonlight bless our union.
She froze inside. Yet her feet were still moving, since a strange compulsion used her bloodstream like a race track. Antifreeze, she thought. Only it’s poisonous. Archangel Michael, protection here, please.
Her entire body continued moving, despite her repeated orders to herself to stop.
I don’t want moonlight, she desperately spoke in her mind.
Open the door, Krystin. I await you. I await our life together.
Life? Aren’t you undead? God, help her, she was talking to a vampire, real or not. How insane was that? Even if she did believe in the possibility, even if she felt utterly possessed, with a drug-like need to open her back door. Unable to control herself, she gripped the knob, began turning. Oh, God, no.
Yes, Kristyn. Come kiss me in the moonlight.
Resisting, she clenched her teeth, and concentrated on halting her hand from fully turning the knob. Sensations like a stormwind swept through her flesh, and she opened the door.
"God, no," she whispered. Just before she stepped outside, then stared into the darkness. Nothing seemed amiss. The blaze of moonlight bathed the trees close to her, and made the pasture, beyond them, appear luminous.
After several moments, she began to heave a sigh of relief. Rustling. Slowly, fear razoring through her middle, she turned her head. Her heart hitched to painful halt, then pounded rapidly.
A man stood like a silhouette on the edge of her gravel drive, across the large yard. Tall, with an appearance of elegance, the ends of his long hair slightly stirred in the gentle gusts of wind. His cape, which ended at mid-calf, also billowed slightly. She felt the urge to blink, yet her eyes seemed to be stuck open.

Almost Vampyre kissed from the Kougar...

Friday, October 24, 2008

Zorro ~ Halloween Treat

Tonight, Zorro is moi’s early Halloween Treat, since she is rather out of sorts. A Kougar girl never forgets her first Zorro...not this Kougar kitty girl. Since moi’s brain is not up to the task of penning creatively for her bloggie, Zorro has arrived to rescue her...if only...I wish and a big romantic sigh. The Kougar’s very first Zorro ~ Walt Disney’s dashing swashbuckling Zorro astride his elegant black stallion. in the 1957 series. Of course, moi could never figure out which one she loved the best, Zorro or his black stallion, Toronado. This picture image is forever emblazoned in her memory, and is most beloved by her young heart.
Much later, a Zorro at a Halloween party set the Kougaress’s heart to tripping madly, and sent her hormones on eternally sad, the face behind the mask was definitely not the daring black-masked man. Not even comparable to Don Diego as disappointing milquetoast.
One Halloween, during moi’s fabric store employee days, the Kougar dressed up as Zorro. As she recalls this was after writing her own version of the Zorro legend, which followed in the hoof beats of the original novel, the Mark of Zorro, authored by Johnston McCulley, and written in 1919. The Kougaress’ twist on the adventure story, the heroine plays the role of Zorro, rescuing the hapless man...okay, he wasn’t really hapless...just as the heroine in the Mark of Zorro possessed her own strength, and a resolve which would do any current romance novel heroine proud.
With the dueling sword battles and the cracking whip, plus the blade-sharp repartee, writing this novel was a fascinating learning and highly creative experience for moi. And is languishing somewhere? Encased in plastic.
Hmmmm...the invisible vampire fang-strikes again. How about Zorro as a swashbuckling elegant Vampyre? Imagine the heroine is rescued only to discover her gallant, whip-wielding hero is also a creature of the night, while his black stallion is also a demon, who shape shifts...

Halloween dreaming kiss from the Kougar...

Wednesday, October 22, 2008

Black Cat Beauty ~ encounter with a witch

From the land of cold steady rain today, my Beautiful Big Cats, it's good for the tame prairie... meow-however, moi's precious doggies don't like it.

Tomorrow, the Kougar will be blogging on Title Magic ~ Three Magical Good Things ~ is the title. Featured in moi's blog will be Lindsay Townsend's review of ALL SHADES OF BLUE PARADISE, the Kougar's aristocratic fantasy, available from Siren-BookStrand ~

Now for the Big Cool Halloween Cats ~

Black Cat Beauty ~ encounter with a witch
Not the first glimpse, my Pretty Big Kitties...but a private peek at an unedited excerpt from the Kougar’s novella, BLACK CAT BEAUTY ~ coming soon from Liquid Silver Books.
First the blurbie ~

Blurb: A private Halloween party in a gothic mansion hidden in the Hollywood Hills. Add one party crasher, Sable Kiki, a naughty black cat with a sexy wild human side.
Her covert assignment from her devious, always-cunning father: use her seductive wiles to find out the truth from Devon Zant, a movie star on the rise to super stardom.
Posing as the superhero actor, Devon Zant, D’Torr has arrived on Earth seeking revenge for the capture of his younger brother, and to assist in stopping a powerful enemy.
The leviathan warfleet of the Altirrux wants rule of all intergalactic trade routes to Earth, endangering the survival of D’Torr’s race, and all the inhabitants of the rare blue jewel, Earth.

Excerpt ~ an encounter with a witch

Warning ~ x-rated language

...the woman suddenly appeared, stepping in front of her.
Halting instead of gliding around the woman, Sable ran her gaze up from the stiletto black heels she wore, to the woman’s gaunt face, decorated like an Egyptian cat statue. Unblinking eyes that reminded her of dirty pool water analyzed her face.
"What black arts’ technique did you use?" The woman’s tone spiraled around her, cast from a cauldron spell.
"And why would I share anything with you?" Sable didn’t bother disguising her utter disregard. When she moved to walk away, the woman stepped in front of her again.
"He’s mine." The sinister woman’s voice coiled like a serpent in Sable’s belly.
Placing her fist on one hip, she faced the woman fully. "Is that so?" Sable seized the attacking energy, then twined it around the woman’s throat.
Sinister woman blanched for a moment, her eyes dilating mummy-style before she dispelled the energy, and scowled ruthlessly at Sable.
"I knew it." She growled, her voice like an inner-world gargoyle.
"Knew what?" Sable envisioned batting her head around like a play toy, but didn’t throw the energy at her.
Narrowing her eyes, then pointing a bony finger with a dagger nail that could slice open many a sardine can, sinister woman intoned, "I’m not done, if you’re smart you’ll get out of my way. Everyone gets out of my way...eventually."
Sable idly slid her gaze over the woman’s scarecrow features, her enraged glints for eyes. "If Devon was interested in fucking a woman with a body designed by Skeletor, I would be more than thrilled to send you in his direction." Casually, she regarded her own nails, popping out one claw. "As it is, I would advise you to express your sorcery talents elsewhere."
"Everyone in Hollywood bows before me. I’ve ruined countless careers, and decreed countless others into existence. You’re no match for my sorcery talents, you fat ugly toad." A sparking black cloud emanated from the center of sinister woman’s forehead.
Creating a gale-force wind in her third eye, Sable blew it, dissipating the nasty soupy stuff before it could cause a second’s harm. "Since I have no wish for a career in Hollywood, your dire threat is just so much jibber jabber to my ears." Sable remembered not to flick her ear. Or her tail in haughty satisfaction.
"Do you think your amateurish use of magick can stop me from getting what I want? I can enslave you to my will as easily as crooking my little finger." Demonstrating, sinister woman thrust her Grim Reaper hand in front of Sable’s eyes.
"A big ole’ oops, witchie poo, but you’re too late." Sable languidly tossed her waves of hair. "I’ve already been enslaved. Any advise for removing this collar?"
For an instant, mean ole’ witchie poo gleamed her gaze directly on the collar, then stared at the matching bracelet.
"Want to give it a magickal try?" Sable held up her wrist twisting it in front of the woman’s eyes. To further taunt sinister woman, she glittered the bracelet in the spooky illumination of the neon disco lights. "Maybe a tiny bolt of lightning. Want to try?"
Silent long enough for Sable to hear the lyrics ‘love to love you, baby’ of the sensual disco chant behind her, witchie poo finally looked up from the bracelet. "You’ll regret angering me, you cunt stupid bitch," she snarled, her eyes gleaming greenish streaks of demonic hatred.
Sable smiled widely, her most I’m-going-to-make-you-prey grin. "Spells at dawn? Since I’m the challenger you can choose your favorite weapon from your black arts’ bag of tricks."


Black Cat hiss and kiss from the Kougar...