What Happened to *Sweep You Off Your Feet* Passion?

Oh, Kitkats, a busy shopping hunt for the Kougar today. Good meow late evening...so, moi is currently burning her eye sockets looking for a couple to star on the cover of her novel, MURDER BY HAIR SPRAY IN GARDENIA, NEW ATLANTIS, coming from Siren-Bookstrand ~ so far, yowling-argh, not much luck!!! With maybe one possibility, except the Kougaress has no idea where the pic came from, or who owns it, or even if it’s available for cover art use...so, since it was on Photobucket, moi will post it...and if any Big Wonderful Cat out there knows anything...all info appreciated.

What happened to *Sweep You Off Your Feet* Passion? Most of the photos the Kougar looked at were tepid...romantic, yes...sweet, yes...passionate in a way...and showy-carnal...but, certainly not the passion of GONE WITH THE WIND, for roaring-example.

Just for the Big Cool Cats ~ On the Alpha Male chat loop it was Heroes Who Spank day ~

Do My Heroes Spank...?

In ALL SHADES OF BLUE PARADISE ~ Baron Zaggry teases Lady Sheridan’s presented bottom with a leather crop. However, since she must train for, then ride in the Braverth, a warhorse sport, to save their horse lands ~ he’s careful not to ‘spank’ his slave lover too hard.

In WHEN A GOOD ANGEL FALLS ~ Volcano, my carnal cherub hero, lets Sedona know he will spank her, to her complete shock, if she doesn’t obey him in certain matters. After all, he’s been divinely ‘assigned’ to protect her, and care for her. Their mission: save Earth for humanity during the 2012 Winter Solstice.

However, since I don’t have any really good ‘spanking’ scenes in any my published books, yet ~ here’s a scene from a WIP, that has been adapted into Flash Fiction ~

ALL THAT STAR GLITTERS ~

Heroine ~ Sandia - Her Code Name
After a skiing accident where she technically died, Sandia was resurrected by friendly beings from another planet-world, who brought her to a hidden underground base, where humans and aliens work together on super secret projects.

Hero ~ Security Agent Drovv Zeghet of the V-Force
Drovv is supposed to be enjoying R&R on planet Earth, at a facility friendly to his people and other alien races. However, his world’s Princess has gone on another sex spree, pleasuring Earth men to death. Her father enlists Drovv to find stop her. The key to finding her, the Princess’s uniquely designed ring.

ONE

Tempted to touch the weird foam, she didn’t, unprepared for the horrible consequences, like her fingers melting off.
I’m melting. I’m melting. Sandia never knew if she remembered the Wizard of Oz from her childhood, or knew the movie because she’d seen it as part of her re-education program.
Shaking her head once, she turned toward the path. The icky foam had simply disappeared. A gleam embedded in the grass halted her. Tiny, radiating beautifully in a fan shape, it was like nothing she’d seen before. Entranced, Sandia slowly moved toward it. Dropping the branches, she bent over, peering intently.

TWO

His orb ship cloaked, Drovv entered Earth’s gooey atmosphere. Remaining on the standard entry vectors, he sent his code to Base. Accepted, he notified them of his new mission, time of arrival, with the Princess’s location unknown.
Drovv growled a few choice cuss words in his favorite language for rude crude expressions. Hurtling toward the North American continent, he honed in on the beam from the Princess’s ring. Forming a cloud around his ship, he slowed his descent, and sank over the southwest states. Near the curvature of Earth, the sun blazed white jewels of light over the Pacific ocean.

THREE

Sandia bent at the waist, staring at the bright glittering spot. “A fallen star?” she murmured, entertaining herself with the whimsical thought. “I don’t have a clue what you are. You do look like a tiny, tiny piece of a star ... stardust.” Her imagination soared, stardust sprinkling down from the cosmos, magically gracing Earth.
Not feeling any heat on her face, Sandia bent a bit closer, seeing the outline of a circle. “Like a ring...amazing,” she whispered. Enchanted and intrigued, she looked at the branches she’d dropped, checking for a twig small enough to lift up the star ring.

FOUR

“Nada,” she whispered. Daring her forefinger closer, she inhaled a deep breath. Slowly Sandia immersed her fingertip in the stardust shimmer around the ring. Cool. No heat at all.
“Wow!” Delicately she picked the ring up. “All that glitters isn’t gold.” Inspecting the strange mystical ring, she raised it higher. “All that star glitters...”
Sandia screamed. Brutal male arms encircled her waist, jerking her off her feet. Her air cut off, she sputtered, struggled. “No!” she screamed as the bear-muscled man slung her against his side, carrying her with one brawny arm. Rape flashed through her mind like a horror movie.

FIVE

“I will kill you!” she raged, and twisted violently. Uselessly. His arm was a horrible vice.
“Good disguise, Princess. We’ll play this your way.”
What the freakin’ hell! Princess?
“Princess!” she shouted furiously. “I am not your princess.”
“You fail to remember our one lusty encounter.”
Whoever he was? He thought he knew her. Sandia didn’t know whether to feel some measure of relief – or...? God help her!
“I don’t know you! Put me down!” she ferociously ordered.
“I’ll put you down soon enough, Princess.”
Blood pounded in her head, making her dizzy. His gruff peculiar voice pounded through her...

SIX

What? Is he a Sasquatch wearing clothing?
“No!” she shrieked as he powerfully leapt up the cabin’s porch steps.
He sat down on the top step, surprising her. “All due force authorized, Princess.” He hauled her over his lap, face down.
His intention sliced though Sandia. Disbelief seized her for an instant. Then she screamed her lungs out. Only interrupted by the heavy smack of his hand on her bottom.
Sandia’s hands flew back, her butt stinging nastily. The beastly man manacled her wrists with one hand, then smacked her harder. Pain flared over her bottom. Enraged, she struggled wildly.

SEVEN

“I hate you!” she furiously screeched. As she fought his hold like a mad woman, her pain lessened.
“Come willingly with me, Princess. And I’ll spare your pretty round ass, my hand.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you!” As soon as the words blasted out of her mouth, the impossible beastly male spanked her harder.
Shocked to her core, her butt raw with pain, Sandia stilled. Her entire body. And inside herself. She barely breathed.
Feeling her emotion, Drovv stopped. The possibility this was not the Princess held him as still as the medical straps he endured for bio maintenance.

EIGHT

Drovv allowed the energetic waves of his punishment to enter his palm. Damn asteroid! Too much pain for this to be the Princess. Still...
The royal birthmark. Instantly, Drovv turned the woman on her side, and unzipped her jeans. Rolling her back over, he swiftly tugged down the pliable faded material.
No dragon birthmark on her left ass cheek. Instead, he stared at the curvaceous beauty of the woman’s butt, deeply reddened by his hand.
Immediately correcting his error, Drovv caressed her generous curves, drawing away the fiery soreness. She was softer, and more voluptuous than the Princess.
Carnal inviting...

NINE

Star blast him! She was exceptionally beautiful. And too lush beneath his hand.
“What are you doing?”
Her voice, hesitant, small...yet, she expected his answer.
“A case of mistaken identity.” He spoke with lawful authority.
She paused, and took a deep a breath. “I told you I wasn’t this Princess. Let me up now.”
Her authority stabbed through him, righteousness, innocense...and something else.
He decided she carried the human warrioress gene, probably Viking. Because of her fair ivory skin, and gentle freckling. Because of her red hair, not fiery red. But flaming gold tumbling sexily to her waist.

TEN

Her tresses were similar to the Princess, yet more beautiful. He wondered how red the hair was on her sex.
“Quit rubbing,” she demanded. “Quit! – looking.”
That was the last starhole thing he wanted. “A spanking you deserved, and never received,” he growled.
She stiffened like a plank.
“I wouldn’t know.” A wind could have stolen her words. Unless, he’d bio-tuned himself to her.
“Ever kinky spank a woman?” she whispered. Frightened and excited, she dared herself, and him.
Drovv didn’t need a second invitation. Keeping her wrists imprisoned, he lightly smacked her ass. Her pink-stained cheeks jiggled, seducing him.

Smooches and swats from the Kougar...

Do It, Vampire, Bite Me...

Good evening, my Amazing Big Cats, the Kougar played Promo-ing today on the romance author chat loops. Plus, today was the much anticipated debut of Paige Tyler's Alpha Males and their Authors' Yahoo loop. Delicious hunk fun was had by all, meow and lots of appreciative purring by this Kougar girl. If you have a big scratch for the Alphas...this is the place for you, Sexy KitKats.

The most splendid sundown sky as moi drove down to her mailbox...radiant pastel colors bled into each other, more beautiful than a dreamy watercolor painting...and the crescent moon hung low on the horizon with a bright planet heralding her...while the planet, Jupiter, glowed, a mystical spot in the deep lavender-blue sky.

Just for the Big Cool Cats, with two more flashes added ~

Cruelty... Flash of the Caribbean Vampire

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.”

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.”

TWENTY
“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.”

TWENTY-ONE
“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.”

TWENTY-TWO
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.”

TWENTY-THREE
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.”

TWENTY-FOUR
“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.

TWENTY-FIVE
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.”
“Oh.”
“Poof,” he darkly whispers. “We would appear wherever I choose to take you.”

TWENTY-SIX
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.

TWENTY-SEVEN
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.”

November 3, 2008

TWENTY-EIGHT
I almost wish he would bite. Swoop down, and bite. Or do something. His gaze, darker than black, penetrates me, reminding me of a sword swallower. Yep, the force of his gaze is a sword I swallow. Yet, there is a plea, like the flicker of candle, in the depths of his eyes...for what I cannot give him. My few memories of other lifetimes don’t include him. Or any remembrance of vampires. Hell, it’s not like I ever actually knew one.
Time escapes with every breath. His finger doesn’t release my chin. Nor does his gaze unlock from mine.

TWENTY-NINE
The tension kills me, hacking up my insides like a Japanese restaurant chef on meth. Maybe, I should turn my head, the surrendering heroine in this scene...offer my neck, then point to my anxiety-throbbing pulse, and say, Do it, Vampire. Bite me. Bite me right here. Right now. Just do it. Just do it now. Except his gaze entrances me. And I remain obedient. Silly, foolish, stupid, beyond-being-an-idiot me.
“Not here,” he murmurs.
“Too much blood.” The words stumble from between my lips. I sway toward him, feeling impossibly fragile. I whisper, “Why be arrested for assault or murder?”

TO BE CONTINUED...

Cruel temptress kisses from the Kougar...