Murder of the Flash...

Yep, murder of the flash today, my Big Beautiful Cats...the Kougar was attending to her edits, and didn’t get to participate in the Liquid Silver SEx blog flash-ings today.
However, take a kitty stroll on over and enjoy ~ Hailey Edwards, a new author with LSB was the hostess with the autumnal mostess...and here is her opening flash-ing ~

Fall Flash Fiction
Hailey Edwards
Ailis lay amid a pile of gold and russet leaves. She looked to the trees above and watched as they rustled in the cool breeze. The gentle tug of wind freed another perfect, star-shaped offering that drifted down to land only inches from her outstretched palm. She heard the sharp crunch of dried leaves crushed underfoot and angled her head towards the sound.
Kerrin approached. She had thought to escape him. This one perfect day she planned to keep for herself, but now it was spoiled by his beauty and paled in comparison.

And isn’t this the most gorgeous banner??? A huge purring thank you to Tess MacKall from Midnight Seductions ~

Serial Flashes by the Kougar...
Monday at around midnight ~ Cruelty... Flash of the Caribbean Vampire
Tuesday at around midnight ~ Blocking My Sun... Flash of Sun and Beach
VOLCANO’S ANGELIC FORECAST for this week ~ http://sirenbookstrand.blogspot.com ~
MIDNIGHT SEDUCTIONS **Endless Romance Writing Contest** ~
For my entry ~ WHEN A GOOD ANGEL FALLS ~ and all the entries ~ http://midnightseductionsauthors.wordpress.com ~

And, just for the Big Cool Cats ~ put on your dancin’ shoes, kittens ~ a snippet from Murder by Hair Spray in Gardenia, New Atlantis ~

Easily Kalypso followed his lead, his dance moves smooth and bold, polished like brass. She was somewhat surprised, since most men didn’t do it for her on the dance floor.
Soon lost in the hot, hot swinging tune, and with the music splendidly ruling her senses, Kalypso responded to his masterful handling of her. Even knowing it would only encourage him, she surrendered to the ecstasy of their rapport. And as the tune changed, becoming a romantic sensual rhythm, she clung to him, her body in dreamy rapport with his, as he languidly curled her around every part of his enormous hard frame.
Their steamy harmony ruled her. It was irresistible. Rare. Dazzling to her senses. So magical she didn’t deny herself. This once. To dance this way with a man, her body fluid and flaming against him. She twirled into his arms once the music faded, a breathless, seductive woman, and his for the moment.

Murder by Hair Spray in Gardenia, New Atlantis ~ 2051 mystery-suspense futuristic ~ coming from Siren-BookStrand ~

Autumnal smooch from the Kougar...

Wow ~ Midnight Seductions, the contest...

My Lovely Big Kittens, the Kougar is under the weather today, purring-however, she is making good progress on her Murder edits...and is she ever wow-wowee grateful for all the votes from her ATIV buddies in the Midnight Seductions contest.
Yes, KitKats, the MIDNIGHT SEDUCTIONS **Endless Romance Writing Contest** ~ Not an actual midnight seduction by werewolf or vampire or highwayman or *insert your favorite hero here* which would be deliciously and decadently hot...well, the Kougar could write a novel...and would love to...what a fantasy seductive trip that would be...however, for right now, it’s all about the contest...and, if you haven’t taken a reading-look at all the entries...hmmm, you’re missing the erotic brazen fun, and the love...of course. Here’s the link for my entry ~ WHEN A GOOD ANGEL FALLS ~ and all the entries ~ http://midnightseductionsauthors.wordpress.com ~

As the Kougar discussed in her Title Magic bloggie, it seems her novel, MURDER BY HAIR SPRAY IN GARDENIA, NEW ATLANTIS is too light on narrative. Meow-yep, the story is dialogue-driven a lot, because of the nature of the suspense, and how the mystery plays out...besides, not only do Kalypso and Zryphus need to communicate with each other constantly, to catch the Hair Spray Killer...but, as it develops, they like ‘dialoguing’ with each other...it’s a passion-attraction thing...ever watch the bantering battle in the old Kathryn Hepburn and Spencer Tracy movies?
Neverthe-meow-less...here’s a narrative passage moi has added ~

~~~
Entranced, her spirit soaring with new hope, she’d watched the antediluvian lands emerge from the hurricane-whipped ocean, while hidden in the shadow of a New York City tenement building. Despite the last days of the Conflicts, everyone who could, had paused and stared up at one of the mammoth plasma screens, used for propaganda and mind control.
The whispers of what occurred, had turned to wildfire, and couldn’t be stopped.
Atlantis had risen again.
While she watched, the ground beneath her feet had shuddered, as if the planet was a giant dog shaking off fleas. To prove it was not another shower of buster bombs shaking the remaining cities on the East Coast, the three-day miracle had been shown as updates, at first.
On the third day, the full land of Atlantis had roared from the seas like Poseidon seeking his former empire. From the islands of Cuba, north to Savannah, Georgia, the antediluvian land shone beneath the breaking sun as a new Atlantis.
At the first glimpse of sun rays touching one peak, and while leviathan waves crashed, spewing enormous sprays of mist, the shudders of destiny had stormed through Kalypso, with all the strength of the spinning rainstorm that still raged over most of the renewed land.
Before any other groups dared to explore, she and her militia, and several other friendly rebel militias, had colonized, agreeing to begin a new country, based on their shared ideals.
~~~

Now, Just for the Big Cool Cats ~ a sneak peekie of what happens after the first kiss ~

“Spent her ‘cashola’ elsewhere. Come on, Agent, let’s eat. I’m spinning my mental wheels too much.” Kalypso scowled the next instant, feeling lioness ferocious. “And if you ever do that again, you will regret it.”
“Kiss those luscious lips of yours, gorgeous?”
“You may be bigger and stronger—the whole male machismo thing. But I do know how to use weapons. And I won’t hesitate.” She glared for good measure.
~~~

Murder by Hair Spray in Gardenia, New Atlantis ~ 2051 mystery-suspense futuristic ~ coming from Siren-BookStrand ~

Midnight seductive smooches from the Kougar...

Rejoice If You Have an Ipod & Cruelty...

Yes, my Beautiful KitKats, rejoice if you have an Ipod or Iphone...Siren-BookStrand will be offering their titles for download. This post has been edited to remove the News Release ~ since some of the details have now been changed.

Just for the Big Cool Cats ~

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.”

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?”

THIRTY
“I prefer the taste of your lips first.”
The pad of his finger travels over my sensitive flesh, finally grazing my chin, then leaving. It feels barren without his touch. Yet, panic has it’s claws in me. Torn between sensual perfection and my raging fear, I had begged fate to step in, have it’s way.
“My Sapphira.” His palms stroke up my arms. With passion he takes hold of my shoulders, an invitation to come nearer. To become his. I’m not fooled. I know he intends to claim me, regardless of whether I accept him now.
“Kiss me,” he entices.

THIRTY-ONE
The timbre of his voice is gorgeously dark. I sway, and come dangerously close to swooning.
“Kiss me here. Kiss me now,” he croons deeply, like the night he must prefer inhabiting. I swear he must be magnetized, or a true sorcerer. Every particle of my body and being is being pulled toward him. Yes, as much as he urges me forward, I move to him. He’s so tall, my head falls back. Rather than his devastating lips, I half expect to feel the prick of his deadly fangs. God...
“No,” I plead. “I’m too old, too ugly...too fat.”

November 17, 2008

THIRTY-TWO
An image of me, as I saw myself in the mirror...how I must look in front of anyone who now watches...and who wouldn’t watch? Unless pure disgust overcomes them, their bile threatening, and about to choke them. The debonair handsome most-desired man on the island about to kiss a woman who looks like me.
“Stop,” he whispers. It’s a command, a plea...and passion. “Stop, Sapphira.”
“Not here,” I murmur. Embarrassment climbs up my body like a thousand monkeys after bananas.
His mouth lowers to mine. “Here. Here now.” There’s no point in thinking about moving.
I’m captured.

THIRTY-THREE
“Sapphira.” He breathes my name as if it’s the first breath of his soul. Does he have a soul? Or is he cursed like Buffy’s Angel?
Fear and desire, my own breath escapes against his lips. I want the feel of his lips taking mine. I’m captivated by the shape, the masculine color....not that most men know how to kiss...they don’t, in my experience.
Pressed against the exceptionally hard length of his body, against the spearing tower that is his cock, I wait like I’m in a dream-slow scene, and smell his smoke-luxurious scent.
His lips seize mine.

TO BE CONTINUED...

Also! My Big Cats, an erotic romance scene from WHEN A GOOD ANGEL FALLS is one of the entries in the MIDNIGHT SEDUCTIONS **Endless Romance Writing Contest**
~ http://msaendlessromancecontest.blogspot.com/2008/11/savanna-kougarwhen-good-angel-falls.html ~

Cruel temptation smooch from the Kougar...

Endless Romance and Endless Sun

Holy heck, time escaped big time, Big Kittens, the Kougar just spent, at least, two hours writing two more flashes for her serial flash ~ Blocking My Sun ~ just for her Big Cool Cats.

Today was Monday loop promo day for the Kougaress, and while perusing, moi got caught in the contest trap. A good trap, purr and flipping tail. It was the last day to enter The Midnight Seductions Endless Romance contest for authors, which the Kougar had decided she didn't have time to enter before. But meow and paw pow...even knowing there's no chance at the big tuna prize...still, moi sent in one of her 1,000 word sex/love scenes between Sedona and Volcano in When a Good Angel Falls.

Why the lack of big cat confidence? The scene is completely atypical and off the erotic romance wall...

Without further yowling adieu...

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."
TWENTY-ONE
Laughter threatening to split her sides, Sorrenna fell over on her side, her arms wrapped around herself. She rolled back and forth, the hot sand beneath her towel a wonderful cushion, and not a deterrent whatsoever to her unceasing chortles. Faster and faster, she shook with her shrill guffaws. God, it hurt, and she couldn’t make it stop. And it felt good all at the same time. Tears streamed from the corners of her eyes. Now all she could do was lay weakly on her back, with absolutely no sun shining on her, and laugh.
"Make it stop. Go away."
TWENTY-TWO
No with a capital N, he wasn’t going away. Yeah, fuck, he could make ‘it stop’. Damn hell, he wanted to make it stop. But she’d never let him near her bed, let alone her precious all-perfect life, if he launched on top of her like a raunchy humping dog, and ravished her to a raw blazing lust. Here. In front of everyone. On a public beach. Not that he’d mind. He didn’t care with her. Truth to God. All he hellfire cared about was her. Having her. Fucking her forever.
"If I go away, I can’t make it stop."
October 13, 2008
TWENTY-THREE
If you go AWAY, it will stop, she desperately wanted to shout at the brainless male who looked like he could be a man-bull hybrid. But, her vocal chords refused to cooperate. Nearly exhausted, and boneless as a ragdoll, Sorrenna opened one eye. It was still there and still damned extra large. Helplessly, she vibrated with more chuckles. Some crappy unhappy vacation, she thought, yet, shook with more laughter. God, her sides hurt. Hell, her hand was so limp on her belly, she couldn’t lift it. Damn, except for her uninhibited laughter, her vacation had taken a vacation.
"Get lost."
TWENTY-FOUR
Lost in you. Lost between your sexier-than-heaven thighs. Lost between the gorgeous swells of your breasts. Yeah, baby doll, I’ll get lost. Lost in you until your pussy begs and bucks for my hammering cock. Drave accepted the giant-sized glass of ice water, the cubes rattling against the sides of the sweating glass as he brought it before his chest. His cock didn’t know whether to shrivel like a coward or do an erotic bobbing happy dance. God, she was the perfect temptress as she lay still, conquered by her own laughter
"You’ll get lost every time I kiss you."

Endless romance kisses from the Kougar...