Tuesday, September 30, 2008

HUNK-TASTIC

Raorrrr... hunk-tastic.... this word sprang to the Kougar’s mind for the Tuesday Hottie featured on the blog of romance author, Paige Tyler ~ http://paigetylertheauthor.blogspot.com/ ~ this is a different personal-fave Adrian Paul hunk-tastic pic ~

Menage Monday at Siren-BookStrand ~ roar about hunks-tastic ~ Monday will be the release day of Siren’s new Menage Amour imprint ~ this week it was *stop all the heavy hot panting out there* ~

WINNING VIRGIN LUST
Winning Virgin, Book 3
Sebastian Sabbat watched her from the side rail. She moved like a
hellcat across the dance floor with sultry ease and precision. Such
calculated motions would send Madonna back to the dance studio. Hell
yeah, they would. His rising cock stood at enough attention to know why.
If she twisted her ass in bed like her dancing proved, then those
already persecuted would stand ready with envy when he took her there.
For more! Claw click on this link ~
http://sirenbookstore.com/index.php?main_page=product_info&products_id=\174 ~

BIG CAT EXTRA ~ READ ALL ABOUT IT ~ YOWL!
Here, kitty: Cop expects house cat, gets cougar
September 30, 2008 2:24 PM EDT
CASPER, Wyo. - A police officer didn't think much of a call to shoo off a bothersome "kitty cat" at a Casper home on Monday. But after the officer arrived at the home, he ran for cover after seeing a male mountain lion weighing 80 to 90 pounds.
Beverly Hood said she was inside when she first saw the mountain lion lying on her porch Monday. Hood said the lion hissed at her, but she wasn't scared.
She called 911, animal control and the Wyoming Game and Fish Department and reported that she had a bothersome "big cat." A dispatcher told Officer Mike Ableman that it was a house cat.
A game warden tranquilized the mountain lion and the animal was relocated.


Psssst-purr, looks like Luke, the magnificent mountain lion, as he prefers to be called, took a little cat nap on the wrong porch. Then he was forced to take a drug-induced siesta. Moi can tell you his head is pounding as we meow.

Tomorrow the Kougar Kat will blog at Title Magic. Purring-ponder...she has no clue about what topic...yet. Well yawn and a flick of her tail, mew-maybe about the minefield of promo-ing, what works and what doesn’t...a big idle shrug...this Big Cat girl has no real clue???

Now! Just for the Big Cool Cats a claw snippet from THE SPECIAL SECRET PROJECT ~

Her flame shot the center of his chest. Harmlessly.
"Oh no!" She snatched her hand from beneath his. "Sorry."
"I’m not harmed, Princess. Everything is okay," Zotorro soothed.
"Maybe, but I wish all of you would quit saying it. Even if it is, it doesn’t feel okay."
She stressed ‘okay’, then sighed poignantly, tripping his heart for her. Besides, the expression on her face was utterly adorable, if sad.
"Wendy." Zavier’s rasp knifed through the air.
She stilled completely, then whipped around, her butt shoving against his lengthening cock, her shirt only a thin barrier. Zotorro felt the shock waves ripple through her body as he gripped the extreme hourglass curve of her waist. "He needs you to help him heal," he explained.
"Needs?" she repeated.
Zavier tossed off the blanket.
"Ohmygod. Holy tower of need."


Holy smooch from the Kougar...


Happy New Moon...

Happy New Moon, my Midnight-loving Big Cats...it’s time for those new projects in your life...and I’m not talking a new litter box, unless that’s on your shopping list.
Tsunami like changes are occurring, darling Big Cats. Sink those claws in your life raft and hang on. It’s gonna be a tidal wave ride from now on...until...well, probably until 2012...
However, all is still well in Kougar write-landia. Just for the Big Cool Cats, two more flashes have been added to moi’s serial flash ~


Blocking My Sun

ONE
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."
TWO
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?"
THREE
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."
FOUR
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."
FIVE
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."
SIX
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."
********************************
A LARGE GLASS

SEVEN
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."
EIGHT
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."
NINE
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.
"Leave."
TEN
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."
ELEVEN
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.
"Enjoying?"
TWELVE
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."
**********************

ANOTHER GLASS?

THIRTEEN
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?"
FOURTEEN
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.
"Please."
FIFTEEN
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."
SIXTEEN
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."
SEVENTEEN
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."
EIGHTEEN
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."

******************
EXTRA LARGE LAUGH

NINETEEN
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."
TWENTY
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.
"Timber?...oh."

New Moon smooch from the Kougar...

Sunday, September 28, 2008

First Maiden Flash & The Vampire

Oh, my Brave Big Cats, good evening. First a question...have you ever been asked NOT to write with your ingenious ability? Yep, it’s a definite first for moi. However, completely understandable in this particular story circumstance.
Today at the
Liquid Silver Sexpressions blog, shapeshifter author extraordinairre, Celia Kyle, called for a FIRST flash ~ for example, the first kiss...or first anything at all.
So, meow, back to the Kougar’s FIRST Maiden Flash...with one flash added.
And! The Caribbean Vampire continues his wicked game in two added flashes, toying with Sapphira as if she’s simply a sporting amusement to him.
Tomorrow, my Big Cool Cats, BLOCKING MY SUN continues with two more flashes.



Sherrana

I
She inspected the splendidly muscled racing stallion, sliding her experienced hands all over his sculpted sleek body. The more she stroked over him, the more the blood bay stallion she thought to use for her mare, arched his neck and stood at attention. “You’re perfect,” she softly crooned, her breath touching his cheek. “Where’s your master? – So, I can make arrangements for your services.”
She frowned, impatiently shaking her long diva-red hair. Her favorite mare had come into heat. Where...?
“He’s mine...Sherrana.”
That deep unforgettable voice.
She whirled toward the man who had abandoned her on their wedding night.
II
“You!” A stormwind not to be stopped, the word slipped past her lips. Sherrana regretted it. No, she should have launched at him, savage as a red cougaress, her claws striking his face, ripping down his body.
Instead, she remained stoically civilized, pivoting from him, a coward. Her heart threatening to pump out of her chest, she strode down the grassy incline.
If she hadn’t been focused on a faster-than-light escape...if her blood hadn’t been roaring in her ears, she might have heard his running footsteps.
She landed on the ground, beneath him. He did not just tackle me!
September 28, 2008
III
Blinded by her red fury, Sherrana whipped around, and would have kneed his balls, if he hadn’t crushed her with his muscled weight and caught hold of her wrists.
“Listen,” he ordered, a plea edging his tone.
“No. Never.” Feeling her own glare of hatred leap out at him, she spat, “Get off me.”
“Not until you listen.” He didn’t move a fraction, his golden eyes scorching her face with their intensity.
Enraged, Sherrana whipped wildly, fighting to free herself. Still, his barbaric strength kept her a prisoner. Curling forward like a wildcat, she sank her teeth into his shoulder.

**********
Cruelty...

ONE
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.
TWO
“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.”
THREE
“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.
FOUR
“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.”
FIVE
“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.”
SIX
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.
SEVEN
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...”
EIGHT
“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.
NINE
“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.
TEN
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.”
ELEVEN
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.”
TWELVE
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.”
THIRTEEN
“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.”
FOURTEEN
“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.
FIFTEEN
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.
Kiss...it 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.
SIXTEEN
Oh God...my 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?”
SEVENTEEN
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.”

September 28, 2008

EIGHTEEN
“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 move...day-ummm, was that a boner in his black linen pants?
NINETEEN
“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.”

TO BE CONTINUED...

First blushing kiss from the Kougar...

Saturday, September 27, 2008

The Price of Picking Up Apples

Meow-ahhh, my Lovely Big Kitties, the Kougar has put a huge ole’ dent in her health, picking up the fantastic abundance of apples from her trees, which are so good for her health. Or welcome to Paradox Central, if you will...darned if you do, darned if you don’t.
So yowl, please forgive the kitty girl for any mistakes or lack of quality in this bloggie.

Pic note: it's taken forever! to upload a pic. This is the second choice. Not that this is a second choice man!!! Consider this the human male of form of the Were-dingo, Zhet.
So, the other day on the ATIV finalist loop, Pat Cunningham mentioned Samhain, small print e-publisher, one of the most successful, is inviting shape-shifter submissions. Check their submission page for details, cause the Kougar doesn’t have the most current info...currently.
The running silliness between moi and the yours cat truly, has been about sending our were-dingo stories. Every other animal gets to be a Were or shapeshifter, why not dingos?
For all moi knows, there are probably were-dingos already romping the storied lands out there.
But will this big cat authoress have time to complete her were-dingo’s story before February 2009? No feline earthly clue. Hiss and swatting paw aimed at the lack of time.
Tail-languidly swishing however, just for the Big Cool Cats, here is the first two paragraphs of the novella the dingo-inspired Kougar began several months back...
Were-Dingo, Roam Free and Proud
Roam free and proud....his sire’s words drummed through his mind, a steady beat, like Ringo Starr on the drums. Through the reddish-brown cloud of dust, Zhet watched the image of his sire form, speak again, his parting words to his firstborn son. They had journeyed through the caves of Earth, the ancient walk of the Elders from the InnerWorld to the surface, the OuterLand. This was his mission before assuming the ruling mantle of adulthood, to walk among the humans, their animals. To experience life on the OuterLand, primeval Earth, despite the monstrous city constructs with the never-ending drowning buzz of technology wrapping itself around the human population like the grid prisons, once common on ancient Saturn, the prisons his ancestors had escaped.
Mate the human bitches with enjoyment...his sire had begun with those words, his human shift hand on top of Zhet’s shoulder, his storm-dark gray eyes piercing Zhet’s deepest soul. Lap up their beauty as you would drink the precious waters of the Goddess Sanubis’ own bathing pool. Lick between their thighs. Lick the heat berries of their nipples. Yet, do not linger to love them with your heart. Remember, call no one your master as a dingo in this world. Run free and run proud.



*****************************
A roar of warning ~ the following is not politically correct. So beware, my Big Cats, beautiful and faire.
Paul Newman, Hollywood’s anti-hero...for the rest of the headline, just Google. So, more purr-importantly, why did the 83 (11 or 2 in numerology) year old star of Cool Hand Luke, pass on to the other side like his character did? Now? From the Grand Cosmic Perspective, what might it mean?
The character, Cool Hand Luke was shot to death after the ‘failure to communicate’, in his bid for freedom. Quite simply, he refused to kneel before a false authority. His individual spirit wouldn’t allow for it, no matter how hard he fought himself, or how far he tried to run.
The world he lived in, the prevailing culture, had no room for those who dared to value freedom. Just as the British King and empire had no room for Patrick Henry, and those like him, during the Revolutionary war of our beloved republic, the United States of America.
"Give me liberty, or give me death", Patrick Henry’s most famous quote was seen by the arrogant Red Coats, not as the rallying point for the colonists to gain control of their lives, goods and lands, but as a bloody meaty bone to satisfy their slavering uncontrolled appetites for the empire...the empire, where the sun never sets.
Is it all in the divine timing as moi believes...the passing of Paul Newman? He of the astonishing gorgeous blue eyes. He, who represents the epitome of the handsome male rebel, the man who calls to a woman’s most reckless and passionate nature.
Headlines scream with everything Paul Newman today. Has the time come for the resurrection of the true anti-hero in our world? You know, like the obvious literary icon, Robin Hood. The rich, as you know, are determined to be bailed out by those of us who can’t afford the price of Starbuck’s coffee. Which begs the real question before us all as human beings, is it time to take back what has been Mafia-style stolen from all of us? Our future and our freedom. Our wealth.
If it is time, to take back our precious lives and livelihoods? If so, how do we accomplish this in the smartest, most effective and highest spiritual manner? Or, another real question: How important is your freedom to you, and to your loved ones?
And why don’t we all have golden parachutes to open up now, in this lessening economy? Heck, it would take less billions to bail out the average citizen, than to save the over-rich scoundrels with government welfare.
Meow-apologies, the Kougar gets carried away, since she absolutely adores freedom. The freedom to run the savannahs at full speed. And the freedom to live her true life. Not to mentions, she wishes such blessings for All.


Woozy-headed smooch from the Kougar...

Friday, September 26, 2008

Black Cat Fever at Liquid Silver

Sundown is an ephemeral lovely orange this evening, my Darling Big Cats, and the Kougar is gently reeling about like a typical movie drunk, attempting to accomplish everything, but not really getting enough done. Meow! And owee!
Saturday, tomorrow, moi will be blogging at Liquid Silver Sexpressions ~ http://liquidsilverbooks.com/blog ~ Purring-rumble yes, the Kougar will be featuring what the Big Cool Cats have already laid their bejeweled blinking eyes upon, her past blog on August 30 ~ the Top Ten Reasons why you might have Black Cat Fever ~
What the Big Kitties haven’t seen, yowl yet, is moi’s own little drawing/painting of her heroine, Sable Kiki, in her black cat form. If your curiosity has you by the whiskers, it will be presented tomorrow on the LSB blog. And Sable’s shifter halloween story, Black Cat Beauty, will be coming soon from Liquid Silver Books.


Angie Fox, author of The Accidental Demon Slayer, is the guest blogger at Title Magic ~ http://titlemagic.blogspot.com ~ today. You don’t want to miss this witchy biker fun, my Big Cats.
Moi’s mew-sings
Angie, thanks for such a fun blog. Congrats on hitting the NY bestseller list! I've been on a couple of motorcycles, but never had the Harley experience...yet, and darn it!
Yep, it's truly me! My secret, now, not secret identity. It's ta-da!
Pretzel Legged Peggy Hard Rider ~
Hey, is this new title for your latest book?
BLAME THE BIKER WITCHES


And yesterday on Title Magic, ATIV finalist, Pat Cunningham blogged, FROM PUN TO PUBLISHED: SNAKE IN THE GLASS, about how she created her short story, SNAKE IN THE GLASS, which will be featured in an upcoming issue of a new e-zine, Beneath Ceaseless Skies ~ http://www.beneath-ceaseless-skies.com ~ is a new online magazine of literary adventure fantasy, and will release its debut issue on Thursday, October 9.
Moi’s further mew-sings
Yeah, all men are beasts...
hopefully, the beasts we love to tame, or keep untamed.
However, two of my shapeshifters beasties are girls ~ Sun Rocket in Red Lioness Tamed & Sable Kiki in Black Cat Beauty.
Now in Tangerine Carnal Dreams the hero, Zio, is a stallion beast.


Now, my Gorgeous Big Cats, just for you ~ a claw snippet from THE SPECIAL SECRET PROJECT ~

"She’s already sexually shifted," Zavier interrupted.
"I should have known when...by the way–" Zotorro halted, then buried his nose in her hair, inhaling the fragrance of the shampoo Zavier had used earlier, blended with her unique rosefire scent.
"By the way you lanced into her. By the way she gave you her sweet hole."


Fevered kiss from the Kougar...

Thursday, September 25, 2008

Another Novel Work in Progress

Good close-to-midnight evening, my Beautiful Big Cats, the Kougar picked up a bountiful supply of apples, and done wore her little kitty self out today.
Hence, the start on another novel work in progress, mentally less of a challenge than working on THE SPECIAL SECRET PROJECT ~ Purring hint, my Super Cool Cats these song lyrics...SuperMan where are you now?...played as the bumper music on Coast-to-Coastam last night...and was a complete woo-woo synchronicity while the Kougar penned away...
Meow-please, Big Cats who adore otherworld erotic romance, no worries over this beginning and very unedited excerpt...moi’s story begins in contemporary times, but quickly takes a paranormal detour into another place, another time...the pic provides the clue...


From: Branded by the Texans ~

Tears quietly slid down Kylie’s heated cheeks. She squeezed the bars of the jail cell harder, feeling surreal, as if she watched herself in a movie. The cool metal heated rapidly, and she noticed her knuckles had become a sickening bloodless white.
For the thousandth time, she asked herself how the fuck hell she was getting out of this mess. She’d done nothing wrong. Yet, here she was, alone, the foul stench of un-flushed human waste seeping into her skin and clothes.
Bill, her housemate and ex-lover, had taken off for the weekend to visit his undergraduate buds, some good-times geek hangout outside of Charleston. Refusing to sniffle, Kylie stiffened her jaw, and stared straight ahead, seeing nothing.
Saturday night, she had no one to call, even if they’d allowed her the so-called one phone call. No, she’d been denied. Threatened with being thrown in the drunk tank. The officer had gripped her upper arm, shoving toward the cell door. The sour smell of vomit had been so vile, she’d merely nodded her acquiescence, and allowed him to lock her inside. So, no phone call.
Keeping her breaths short and shallow, she swallowed down the urge to retch, her throat tight and raw. Glancing at her knuckles she wondered if she should be feeling pain by now.
Yeah, like some over-worked under-paid public defender would do her any good, even if they forced her to get one. At least, she’d remained completely silent when they’d badgered her over and over to confess to a crime she hadn’t committed. No, that wasn’t going to happen.
She’d had a first-hand view of how ‘the system’ worked when her baby sister had been accused of assaulting her ex-husband. Only the fact that a neighbor had come forward with a video of her ex wielding a baseball bat, given it to the lawyer her parents paid for by mortgaging their house to the hilt, had finally saved her sister from being sent to prison.
Fucking damn hell, there was no way she could afford a lawyer. All her money had been spent on her university graduate classes. On her botany experiments, the reason she now felt claustrophobic and scared down to her numb clenched toes. Apparently grow lights in a basement and a large energy bill meant an automatic raid from the SWAT team. News to her, but not surprising, given the Youtube vids she’d watched of police abuses.
Her tears flowed faster, her tongue automatically catching the wet saltiness before she could halt it. Scenarios of a horrible future spent in prison seized her mind. The two cops who’d interrogated her had already demanded she give up all the names of the people she sold her pot to. For a few nightmare moments, she’d thought about giving them false names for all the false customers. Until she realized there might be someone with that false name, who would now be accused of something they hadn’t done. Like her.
Attempting to calm herself, Kylie tightly closed her eyes, and pressed her forehead against the bars. Oh God, Goddess...Whoever...


Another novel smooch from the Kougar...

Wednesday, September 24, 2008

Thirteen Cowboys and their Horses...

For some reason the Kougar is unaware of...cause, meow-really, who gives a slicing claw for every trendy trail out there in cyberlandia or whereverlandia in the world, or out of this world...however, thirteen seems to be a magic number of choice...thirteen hunks of manly goodness...thirteen reasons why...so, can the Kougar recall thirteen hunks of cowboy goodness she adored or had a big ole’ longing heart crush on...as she grew up...?
Cue up Willie Nelson singing *my heroes have always been cowboys...*
#1 ~ The very first cowboy, and his horse, of course, the Kougar can remember ~ lasso him to your heart, ladies of yesteryear ~ Gene Autry on Champion, he was known as the singing cowboy. Actually, it was the noble Champion moi raced down to see very early every Saturday morning. The pic is from ~ http://www.cow-boy.com/pix.htm ~
#2 ~ Roy Rogers and Trigger...the Kougar was utterly smitten with the golden palomino, Trigger!...there were no happier trails and that Roy was a real action hero guy...for them happy trail riding days. And Dale Evans on Buttermilk was no slouch either.
#3 ~ The Lone Ranger on Silver, that’s Hi Yo, Silver...never a better use for classical music than that opening...and, moi had quite the young girl, heart’s pitter-pat crush on the masked Lone Ranger. Although, the riding off into the sunset was always disappointing, hence, the lure of romance novels. The heroine does not get left behind!!!
#4 ~ Tonto on Scout, his paint horse. While not technically a cowboy, to the Kougar he was as handsome and attractive in his own way...hence, all those romance heroines who get their Indian heroes by the end of the story, ala Cassie Edwards. And to be naughty, wouldn’t that be a happy-ever-after menage?
#5 ~ Fury...okay, Fury is the rearing black stallion, the Kougar’s true love in this old Saturday morning tv series. However, Peter Graves was damn cowboy handsome as Jim Newton. And, race the wind, horsie fans, Fury has his own Wiki page.
#6 ~ Zorro and his incredible black horse, Toronado, or in english, Tornado, from the Sunday night Disney tv show...okay, again, not a cowboy, exactly. But masked and dangerously romantic to the Kougar’s young innocent heart. Oh breathless my, talk about a huge crush moi has never gotten over...of course, the grown-up version of Zorro, Antonio Banderos...can you say vigorous *between a woman’s thighs* while engaging in swordplay?
#7 ~ Adam Cartwright on Bonanza...the Saturnian older brother. Quiet take-charge sexy! His horse, Sport, doesn’t count, since it was Little Joe’s paint, Cochise, that the Kougar found really drool-worthy. Wow, now that was an old west series.
#8 ~ Rawhide...this tv series was a gritty look at what could occur on a cattle drive from San Antonia, Texas to Sedalia, Missouri...the Kougar didn’t have a heartthrob favorite, or it varied from show to show, actually...of course, this was the start of Clint Eastwood’s rise to stardom.
#9 ~ Bat Masterson ~ maybe not in strict order of crushdom, however, the Kougar had quite the girlhood thing for the dapper and always clever Bat Masterson.
#10 ~ The Texan, Rory Calhoun and his horse, Domino. The Kougar is starry-eyed in love with both of them. Nothing more *shiver* impressive than the opening as the Texan rides through town...Domino is one the most beautiful pintos that has ever lived. Sigh! And wish!
#11 ~ The Wild Wild West ~ Jim West...’nuff said.
#12 ~ Clint Eastwood in The Good, the Bad, the Ugly, the spaghetti western....although it was toss up between Clint and his horse. Actually, the horse won moi’s truest yearning heart...talk about utterly gorgeous!
#13 ~ Obviously 13 is not enough...hmmm...who’s next on the cowboy hunk o’ deliciousness beneath a wide-brimmed hat and howdy ma’am list? Just for fun and strangelandia grins ~ Bruce Campbell, or Briscoe and Comet in TV’s Briscoe County Jr. series.
Big Cool Cats ~
Welcome to Synchronicity Central...as the Kougaress was penning her notable and noteworthy blog on 13 cowboys, what did she see? North Rawhide Road as an address on a TV commercial. Doo-doo-doooo...
On romance author, Nina Pierce’s blog, Around the Writer’s Block ~ http://www.ninapierce.com/romanceblog ~ romance author, Roscoe James discussed ebook readers and the future in an understandable and savvy way.
Moi mew-sings ~
Wow, fascinating discussion as usual, everyone. I'll try to avoid what has already been covered, except to say, the quicker release of e-books, the much better price and the variety, are pluses which cannot be matched by the Big Boy publishers. Currently.
What is also true is that economy is taking a big ole' hunk of change out of their operations, which, unfortunately is not good for their authors. Or for the large bookstores.
I think one way to go for the future, is what I'm calling the home POD printer, which, when you download to your hard drive or to your reader, if you want the print version, you can simply print it out yourself, with whatever look or version you want, including the incredible cover art.
Now, that would be a system.


Cowgirl smooch from the Kougar...

Tuesday, September 23, 2008

Templar Mystique and Majesty

Another dreamy late summer-like day on the tame prairie, my Incredible Big Cats. And the Kougar’s apple trees definitely do not disappoint. Despite their non-glossy and imperfect symmetry, they taste maaahr-velous, darling.
Today on Title Magic, Evonne posted a fabulous blog, as only she can, on her visit to The Temple Church...


Walking through history
Posted by Evonne Wareham at 10:03 PM
My recent trip to London took me way back in history - 800 years.
I was also following in the footsteps of one of the most successful authors of recent time.
The Temple Church dates from the Crusades. It was the Headquarters of the Knights Templar...


For more saunter on over to ~ http://titlemagic.blogspot.com ~


The Templar Mystique and Majesty...now that’s a back-in-time portal the Kougar would venture through...what was in Solomon’s Treasure?
Some say the ultra advanced technology of a past age, including StarGates...
Gee, I wonder what the real *beyond top secret* plans are for the CERN collider???
And is it ‘human stupid error’ or ‘advanced interference’ that now plagues the Collider???
Both???


Now, just for the Big Cool Cats, a claw snippet from THE SPECIAL SECRET PROJECT ~ a touch of romantic emotion instead of erotic passion ~


She nodded against his shoulder. "I so never wanted to hurt you. I do love you." Sniffling, she gathered her courage. He felt it in the tightening of her body. "I just, just wanted to experience life. Then, I felt confused. Then." She reached up, wrapping her arms around his neck, trembling him inside. "Our world exploded. And everything changed to a permanent nightmare."


Mystique kiss from the Kougar...

Monday, September 22, 2008

It Doesn't Feel Like Autumn

Good very late evening, my Lovely Big Cats, A BELATED HAPPY FALL EQUINOX. Odd, since the past few weeks of summer have felt like Autumn...and meow-now the weather is warm, more like basking in late summer.
The kitty kougaress girl is paw-tired from promo-ing today. Tuck the tail for a nap, purr-wish.
Darling Cats, if you would like to know the Angelic Forecast for this week, claw-click on over to ~ http://sirenbookstrand.blogspot.com ~

As yowl promised, two more flashes for ~


Blocking My Sun

ONE
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."
TWO
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?"
THREE
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."
FOUR
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."
FIVE
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."
SIX
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."
**************
A LARGE GLASS
SEVEN
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."
EIGHT
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."
NINE
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.
"Leave."
TEN
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."
ELEVEN
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.
"Enjoying?"
TWELVE
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."
**************
ANOTHER GLASS?
THIRTEEN
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?"
FOURTEEN
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.
"Please."
FIFTEEN
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."
SIXTEEN
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."

September 22, 2008

SEVENTEEN
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."
EIGHTEEN
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."

First Autumn kiss from the Kougar...

Sunday, September 21, 2008

Flash of the Caribbean Vampire

Good evening, my Gorgeous Big Cats, never has the Kougar witnessed such a hazy sky in the midwest. Oddly, the western sky was covered by a glare of white haze, while the eastern sky was a pleasant blue with sweet little puffy clouds.
Yowl, tell the Kougar something isn't deeply strange about that.
~ Now, just for the Big Cool Cats...Serial Flash-ing tonight and tomorrow night with the continuation of Blocking My Sun ~

Cruelty...

ONE
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.

TWO
"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."

THREE
"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.

FOUR
"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."

FIVE
"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."

SIX
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.

SEVEN
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..."

EIGHT
"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.

NINE
"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.

TEN
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."

ELEVEN
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."

TWELVE
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."

THIRTEEN
"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."

FOURTEEN
"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.

FIFTEEN
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.
Kiss...it 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.

September 21, 2008

SIXTEEN
Oh God...my 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?"

SEVENTEEN
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."

TO BE CONTINUED...


Blue Caribbean kiss from the Kougar...

Saturday, September 20, 2008

The Sour Grapes Challenge

Or the sour grapes challenge to Oprah...raowrrrr...you know SHE of the book club, my Beautiful Big Cats. A few days ago on the ticker news, there it was: a poke in the cats eye and the latest book club recommendation. No big scratch of the hide, really. Until, reading the blurblet about this debut novel being above so many others read by Ms. Winfrey lately. Okay, a swish or two of the tail, so big what? However the poke in the eye became a poke to moi’s pride, pride as in ego, not pride as in a lion’s pride.
The challenge ~ the Kougar stalks on dangerous ground here...even if, purr-purr, she absolutely adores the color purple...grape purple and meow-yep, the film too.
Knowing this yowl will land on deaf ears, 100% probably...still, the intrepid Kougar strides onward. Yes and another loud meow, the Kougaress has a deep fondness and respect for Oprah, always has, always will...although, for a long while, the topics of the show have little to do with moi’s life, all that bliss and buzz of glamor, the never-ending trail to what’s chic in the world of the politically correct...never mew mind...the Kougar is completely off her own topic trail now.
A big paw swat away of any more socially redeeming cat commentary.
Nope and roar, why can’t romance novels, or sizzle erotic romance novels, be as singularly important in their story, their message, as whatever is considered impressively literary now...whatever that book animal is now...the Kougar has no idea, and doesn’t want to hunt it down. Ever. Not ever again. Long ago, the taste was simply too horrific...which is NOT to roar against talented fiction authors, or their novels. NOT AT ALL. Insert *ALL PROPER KUDOS GIVEN OUT HERE*.
Yowl! yet another complex and complicated issue, which must be batted out of the sky like a low-flying bird by the Kougar...the current literary fiction scene.
The sour grapes challenge to Oprah? the challenge from the Kougar, Oprah will never know about...so moi is completely safe from any manner of response, or publicity. Yay!
The challenge is: The Kougar will match her novel, WHEN A GOOD ANGEL FALLS, against any novel Ms. Winfrey has ever read , and then featured on her book club.


Why?


This snippet from Dark Angel Reviewer, Frost, about sums it up ~

"WHEN A GOOD ANGEL FALLS is a complicated futuristic tale with strong overtones of the Judeo-Christian religious tradition. The new spin on this is the existence of good angels fallen to Earth, unaware of their exact nature and of the roles they are to play in the destiny of humanity.
...Ms. Kougar's explication of the nature of fallen angels-good and bad-makes for an intriguing speculation, though, and demonstrates that hope can exist even in the midst of the bleakest situations."

Sour grapes smooch from the Kougar...

Friday, September 19, 2008

Arrghh! Ya Swarthy Cur...


Swab the decks or know the point of me blade at yer rump urging ya off the gang plank...landlubber, I shoulda let yer rot on the tavern floor in yer own piss waitin’ for the hangman...
No, my Big Swashbuckling Cats, the Kougar is not yowling a new dialect, or trying out a new character...well, meow, she could be, come to squinchy eyes think about it...but really, roar for some more piratey salty dog language *hey, where are the Margueritas? It’s happy hour* because it’s Talk Like a Pirate Day.
Does! the Kougaress wish she was garbed in her pirate sex kitten look, cutlass in hand, with an adorable parrot on her shoulder...on the rolling deck of her sleek ship, gazing out over the vast shimmering sea...a pause before a booty call...no, not that kind of booty call...the call of booty sinking a broad-hulled ship low in the water, fat with gold doubloons and ready to be a fine rich feast by the superior swing of her blade...
So, what would it feel like to be a successful space pirate, to live by raiding the intergalactic corporate freighters, bloated with their fortunes, a constant supply of wealth won by the mercantile-extortion rape, pillage and plunder of nearly every race...their further illegal fortunes gained by corp minions selling every depravity known in the galactic realm...
Scrub out yer slimy grimy ears, mateys, and gather ‘round the mainsail...or the Captain’s bridge...if yer a wantin’ the tip-up-the-ale answers...
First ya find an island moon, hidden and isolated, hollow enough to transform into an eventual paradise...
Second, ya gather a small trusted crew...and watch a new member like a starving hawk...
Third, yer gradually upgrade yer space frigate from under-market supplies only using the accepted coin of that ragtag realm, the commerce codes of the Big Trade Ships...
Fourth, ya grab by hook or crook any and every energy-dispensing device ya can get ya desperate paws on...
Fifth, ya always steal food supplies, more of a priority than the ‘riches and treasures’ transported, unless it’s the son of a Solar System magnate, who will pay any price you demand...but that’s ahead of the story, mateys...
Six, ya keep the water tanks stocked aboard ship and on yer moon island, under the penalty of certain death...yours...
Seven, ya keep top bitch control no matter the barbaric manner of the fight, ‘cause it’s your hanging hide you’ll be savin’, and if you don’t, it’ll be your wind-swinging holo-vised flesh for all to witness...
Eight, ya try to grab eight winks of rest whenever no one notices...and ya keep totally secret, the little exotic device that can make a double of ya for a short time...if there’s enough generation of power...if...
Nine, once yer frigate is filled to the brim and requires a spec overhaul, ya head to yer hidden moon base, and pray you’ll make it, then get a long soak in the bubble bath before another crises challenges you to a duel of wits and weapons...
Ten, ya learn every seductive trick in the galactic ‘different races’ book, cause ya never know when you might need it to save yer arse, yer crew’s arse...or discover when the next shipment of pulse pistols, the latest design, is comin’ yer way...yo ho ho and a bottle the Magnate’s rum...what his cocky and loin-cocked son was hauling...
Hmmm...maybe the plot for Gold Treasure Moon...
In honor of Talk Like a Pirate’s day...CutThroat, when Geena Davis played the role of a Lady Pirate...maybe not cinematic memorable, the Kougar remembers...

Thank you, Midnight Seductions loop for a fun piratey good day...

P. S. Hey! Government of the people, for the people, and by the people...I want my debts scrubbed clean too...where’s my bailout?

Salty sea smooch from the Kougar...

Wednesday, September 17, 2008

Ms. Estelle's Equine Romance Reviews

Good late summer evening, my Big Crazy Cats, ever see a baby rattlesnake up and close personal, as in sunning on the window sill beside your bed 'personal'? Well, the Kougar is still processing this experience and is feeling 'freaked out', even though the small rattler is far away now...the entire story...that will have to wait for another blog. Moi is definitely too 'rattled'. But not bitten.


Imagine the Kougar's happy surprise *insert rough tongue in cheek here* at finding this trotting terrific review...


Ms. Estelle’s Equine Romance Reviews
The granddaughter of Mr. Ed, the talking horse, of course, speaks her mind on equine and equine shifter romance novels.
Tangerine Carnal Dreams
Author: Savanna Kougar
Artist: Jinger Heaston
ISBN: 978-1-60168-127-0
Genre: Erotic Fantasy Paranormal
Publisher: Aspen Mountain Press
Publication Date: 08/08/2008
Sexual Content: Erotic
Whinny, whinny, what a hunk o’ equine studliness. Usually Ms. Estelle prefers dark, sleek and handsome like Walter Farley’s Black Stallion. However, her tail swishes for this blaze red chestnut ~ Zio, the stallion prince hero, who is sowing lots of erotic oats on the tangerine aphrodisiac world of Yemisque, while waiting for the heroine’s sister to arrive. Zio has discovered Kattalonia’s heat-rambunctious sister is a frequent visitor, and he hopes to persuade her assistance in winning the woman he has chosen for his mate.
In the tradition of his equine shifter race, he will pursue Corporal Kattalonia to the ends of the galaxy, and any world between. The bit-checked hold up, Zio’s race is not allowed on his Katta’s homeworld. But whoa there, fate befriends him when Katta pursues a bad guy in an out-of-date craft to Yemisque, determined to save her father from false charges of treason.
Ms. Estelle must shake her head and her luxurious platinum mane in bewilderment at Corporal Kattalonia, who doesn’t recognize a top notch true-loving stud when she sees one. Or even when she gets a good whiff of his virile scent. No matter, Zio’s chasing persistence and his ability to help Katta against her diabolical enemies, finally earns this sexy splendid stud his humanoid, fire-blasting filly.
With her thighs holding him as she rides on his equine back, or with his Katta’s thighs wrapped around him in ecstatic human passion, the hero in Ms. Kougar’s Tangerine Carnal Dreams finally has his happy ending.
And since Ms. Estelle always gallops for an adventure with a love won in such a frisky and carnally satisfying equine way, she awards...
Five whole sugar cubes
For the latest reviews of equine shifter romance, join Ms. Estelle for her weekly barn show, Yay or Neigh. Will she or won’t she give five rippling silky flashes of her beautiful platinum tail?


Nuzzle and smooch from the Kougar...

SuperMan, the Nightmare on Elm Street

Evening, my Extraordinary Big Cats, the horizon flamed with tangerine as night took over today...meow and pow, synchronicity strikes with the speed of the steely man himself, SuperMan...
Purr-yum yes, the Kougar is penning a SuperHero novel...and in the news, this ticker headline ~
Auctions for Ohio Superman birthplace top goal
Associated Press
September 17, 2008 5:16 PM EDT
The sales on eBay are only half-done and already have surpassed their goal of raising $50,000 to fix up the boyhood home of Jerry Siegel. It's where he and Joe Shuster came up with the Man of Steel during the 1930s.

And the pic ~
In this Sept. 2, 2008 file photo, the boyhood home of Superman creator Jerry Siegel is shown in Cleveland's Collinwood neighborhood. Mark Duncan
CLEVELAND - Online auctions benefiting Superman's birthplace have been more powerful than a locomotive.

Yowl! What was that A Nightmare on Elm Street? The Kougar witnessed on her flowing headline ticker...
Roaring nope! Another Nightmare on Wall Street...oops, a kitty mistake...perhaps, a paw Freudian slip of the rough tongue? Hey, where is Freddy Krueger when you need his chilling slasher insanity? Someone, anyone, let him at the architects of this disaster...because it ain’t the fault of all the American people losing their homes, no matter what they try to tell ya, or sell ya.

Smack! Whack! Crunch. Make that bunch of bad guys, the whore financiers of Wall Street, lunch in prison.
So, where is SuperMan when you need him? That true hero soaring so high in the sky.
Yep, truth, justice and the American way...that’s what I say. Too. Big handsome guy in tights. With eyes of lake blue.
Jeepers, lots of nasty creepers out there in the world. Keep your head down and your big cat eye open...’cause the Kougar lurves you...

And just for the Big Cool Cats, since the Kougar is celebrating Chapter Five, a claw snippet from THE SPECIAL SECRET PROJECT ~
Seizing her mouth in a final savage kiss, he abruptly parted their lips, his hand fisted barbarically in her hair. Their eyes penetrated each other, scorching. Zion had never felt this alive.
Releasing her, he stepped back, and spun toward the screen. It was either that, or drag her off, and plunder his cock into her until he couldn’t stand up.


Super-powered smooch from the Kougar...

Meltdown, who needs Wall Street...

Truth to yowl, my Big Lovely Cats, the Kougar’s life has been in meltdown mode for the last couple of decades. So, Wall Street is just catching up with a lot of us in the same boat, and, unfortunately, it ain’t the Ark.
The solution? You meow....one is for all of us to create our own communities, real trading communities where we exchange real goods and services. One good model is the Amish communities. No, it doesn’t have to be about religion, or embracing that manner of austerity, or their particular belief system. However, the Kougar deeply respects the basics of what the Amish and similar groups have created, a self-sustaining lifestyle for themselves and their loved ones. Now, that’s family.
Yes, roar. It is much easier ‘talked about’, than done. However, we, as Americans, can achieve whatever we set our minds and hearts upon. That part is real simple. Achieving our own brand of a self-sustaining lifestyle once we’ve set our hearts and minds upon that worthy goal...not so simple, but definitely doable.
Back to the beginning, my sweet little kitties (hehehe)...the maiden flash...what began the Kougar’s swiftly escalating enjoyment of The Flash, or Flash Fiction...moi’s very first flash...written February 2008...
And! an added Flash, penned first, just for the Big Cool Cats ~

Sherrana


I

She
inspected the splendidly muscled racing stallion, sliding her experienced hands all over his sculpted sleek body. The more she stroked over him, the more the blood bay stallion she thought to use for her mare, arched his neck and stood at attention. "You’re perfect," she softly crooned, her breath touching his cheek. "Where’s your master? – So, I can make arrangements for your services."
She frowned, impatiently shaking her long diva-red hair. Her favorite mare had come into heat. Where...?
"He’s mine...Sherrana."
That deep unforgettable voice.
She whirled toward the man who had abandoned her on their wedding night.

II

"You!"
A stormwind not to be stopped, the word slipped past her lips. Sherrana regretted it. No, she should have launched at him, savage as a red cougaress, her claws striking his face, ripping down his body.
Instead, she remained stoically civilized, pivoting from him, a coward. Her heart threatening to pump out of her chest, she strode down the grassy incline.
If she hadn’t been focused on a faster-than-light escape...if her blood hadn’t been roaring in her ears, she might have heard his running footsteps.
She landed on the ground, beneath him. He did not just tackle me!

Maiden kiss and flash from the Kougar...