Romancing Santa, the Night Before Christmas

With the hope of spreading some holiday cheer, here’s my version the popular Christmas poem, “Twas the night before Christmas”, written a couple of years ago.

Twas the night before Christmas, when all through my home
Only I was stirring, to pen my romance tome.
My best black silk stockings were hung, ready to wear,
In hopes, my miracle Santa stud would soon be here.

The pets are nestled all snug in their places,
With visions of holiday treats making them run dream races.
Their mamma has just slipped into her red lace teddy,
And is settling her brains to continue writing her fantasy.

When out on the lawn I hear such a loud clatter,
I spring up from my desk to see what is the matter.
Away to the window I trot in my boa-trimmed slippers
To take a peek through the curtains. Oh no, is that drunk Mrs. Kippers?

The full moon shines on icy slush, instead of new-fallen snow
Giving a natural spotlight to celebrating Mrs. Kippers below.
Yet, what to my wondering gaze does appear?
But an old-fashioned sleigh, and eight majestic reindeer.

With a Viking driver, so handsomely tall and magnificent,
I knew in a moment I must be dreaming this whole event.
More rapid than jets, his stags flew the midnight sky untamed,
His long mane blew wild as he shouted, and called them by name!

"Now Dasher! now, Dancer! now, Prancer and Vixen!
On, Comet! On, Cupid! soar on Donner and Blitzen!
Fly to the top of each roof! Above the city walls!
Now race higher and faster! And sail over all!"

As autumn leaves that before the approaching blizzard fly,
When they meet with a whirlwind and spiral to the sky.
So up to my rooftop, the brown and white stags they flew,
With a sleigh full of glittering gifts, and Viking Santa too.

And then, after a blinking of my eyes, I heard on the roof
The precise landing, then the pawing of each jingle-belled hoof.
As I drew in my dreaming head, and spun around,
Down my fake chimney the Viking arrived, with an impressive bound.

He was splendidly dressed in red and faux fur, down to his boots,
And his garments remained perfect, despite all the ashes and soot.
A bundle of shiny presents he had flung behind his back,
And he looked like a romantic hero as he dashingly opened his pack.

His darkening eyes, how they naughtily twinkled! And at his dimples I gawk!
His features are sternly carved, reminding me of a beautiful proud hawk!
His full sexy mouth slowly turns upwards, a knowing grin,
As I continue to stare like a vixen at his strong virile chin.

With a saunter he approaches, making me weak in the knees.
His searing gaze travels the length of my body. And I freeze.
Without a word his powerful arm captures my pliant waist.
Crushing the lace against my skin, he has me tightly embraced.

Oh, how stalwart he feels, his muscles like hot heated ropes
And I sigh, then softly pant as I give free reign to my hopes.
His half-lidded gaze takes in my face, then settles on my parted lips
While his palms slide in a caress and boldly seize my hips.

“Oh, Santa,” I softly exhale, before his mouth claims mine in a torrid kiss.
“Wear those black silk stockings,” he rasps. “I promise bliss
When I return from leaving presents beneath every sparkling tree.”
After plundering my eager mouth with another kiss, he spins from me.

I hear him spring to his sleigh, to his stags give a fierce long shout,
Then, from my window I watch them depart like a meteor flaming out.
Still, I hear him exclaim, as he disappears from my sight,
"Happy Christmas to all, and to my gorgeous woman, leave on the light!"
~~~~~~

Have the merriest of holidays!

May your most romantic dreams come true...

Savanna

Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance ~

Envisioning Beautiful Worlds for Romance Novels

Middleton Place Plantation in South Carolina

The idea for this post began with a blog I wrote on Kougar Kisses, my personal bloggie, back on August 6. Here is a portion rewritten for this post.

Creating Beautiful Worlds...the Kougaress had an intriguing insight earlier today. At least, intriguing to her. It becomes more important, in fact crucial to create beautiful worlds.

As romance writers a lot of us know that urge to ‘create a beautiful world’ for our heroines and heroes. Whether that means the HAPPILY EVER AFTER, or world-building another realm as in sci fi. Maybe we dream up a far-away fantasy place. Oh, the exquisite possibilities we have as writers. Our imagination is allowed to take flight, to surpass the boundaries of reality as we know it, as we live it everyday.

This Big Cat believes humanity instinctively has an innate drive, a need to create beauty. An obvious example is art in all of its glorious expressions. Art has always been with humanity, ala the prehistoric cave paintings. Another classic example, to the Kougaress’s mind, is the fairytale wedding mania of the nineties. Beaucoup bucks have been spent on that perfect day, as if for a short time, a beautiful world could be created, one that would last a lifetime in a world where trials and tribulations are the norm.

This desire to create beautiful worlds, to escape into a beautiful fantasy world, will only dramatically increase in the upcoming times. One, because of the harsh realities most of us are facing. And, two, because, it’s time. Time to bring forth our personal visions of a beautiful world.
~~~

Envisioning Beautiful Worlds

Beauty feeds and nourishes our souls. As writers we are able to give this gift to those who read our books.

I’ve envisioned beautiful worlds ever since I can remember. The stories my parents read to me at a young age were the beginning. My imagination spun with the images evoked by fairytales, and other children’s books. Being highly visual, the illustrations also inspired my flights of fancy into these beautiful realms.

Later, when I began reading all the non-fiction and fiction horse books, like The Black Stallion by Walter Farley, that I could get my little grubby hands on, I not only envisioned beautiful worlds filled with horses, but I began daydreaming about how to create my fantasy worlds for real.

As a child, I wanted to create a beautiful world of my own. Desperately. The urge became so strong it burned bright and fierce inside me all of the time.

Of course, the more I learned growing up, and the more I experienced life, the more complex these ‘romantic and beautiful worlds’ became. Often they lived within my imagination as real, more real than everyday life, especially during the nineties.

These worlds I daydreamed about, some of them were the dreams I wanted to bring about for real. Over the years, I’ve fought for my dreams, lived for them. However, that’s another story.

At this point in time, I have no idea how many of my romantic fantasy realms are stored inside my mental hope chest, and are my current WIPs...hundreds, at least. Most of them will never see the light of day, unless I pen them into full existence -- world-build them in my paranormal erotic romance novels as a finished book.

I should add a bit of a correction here because I do have one ‘sweet’ romance written. However, it’s so different, I don’t know what to do with it.

Even though, my romances are character driven, my stories are always based on a beautiful world or worlds -- my ideas about them, of course. This happens in several ways. There is the potential to bring one forth. The heroines and heroes are saving their beloved land, and their way of life. Or, my happily-ever-after couple lives in a thriving, full of life society, and this is their love story.

To world-build these beautiful realms is challenging, a joy, and very hard work. I constantly ask myself, or my muse...what does it feels like -- the society, the day-to-day activities, life in this particular OtherWorld, this OtherRealm, this OtherTime?

As authors, the question often becomes: How do we create beautiful worlds -- this includes ALL of the romance subgenres -- for our books? Or, how do we bring them forth from our imagination, and onto the page?

For some of us it’s a natural ability, even though it ain’t easy at times. One approach is to look at the dreams of your childhood. What was it that made you feel radiant inside, that lit your soul, your face?

As a teenager, what kind of world did you fantasize about, and long for so much it hurt? So much you made plan after endless plan?

Right now, what are those ‘beautiful worlds’ living inside your imagination, the ones that resonate with you the most? Start there, and your story will unfold.
~~~

As an example of how I’ve envisioned a beautiful world, here’s an erotic-romance Flash Scene I wrote for this past Valentine’s Day between Volcano and Sedona, my hero and heroine in WHEN A GOOD ANGEL FALLS.

Valentine’s Day, February 14, 2014

The rose, in full bloom, landed in her palm. Sedona felt the prick of thorns as she gripped the stem in reaction. Transfixed by the radiant scarlet rose, she stared, barely aware of the tiny pain.

Lost in the spiral of gorgeous petals, Sedona noticed the heavenly heady fragrance moments later, when it wafted inside her nostrils. An appreciative sigh sang from her. Lifting the rose, Sedona inhaled its scent more deeply. Her eyelids drifted shut and she dreamily soared inside.

“Volcano,” she whispered with her lips brushing the petals.

My angel woman. His telepathic voice trembled her with desire.

Playing cupid? Sedona mentally teased her words though him.

My arrow is only for you. The image of his ready cock filled her mind’s eye.

Oh, my cupid, I want to stroke your wings. I want to kiss each feather tip. I want –

With a loud whoosh, Volcano’s powerful essence vortexed around Sedona. A firestorm of pleasure captured every inch of her body, and she moaned.

Yes, smolder me, you naughty cupid. Until I surrender to the launch of your boldest arrow.

Even as the scorch of orgasmic rapture seized her mound, and spiraled upward, Sedona felt herself lifted from the floor. Her carnal cherub carried her with his incredible force. Somewhere.

All Sedona knew was that she traveled light-fast through the ethers, as her molecules blissfully entwined with his. Yet, strange to her senses, she still felt the prick of the rose thorns.

Barely steady on her feet, Sedona heard, Your Valentine’s Day surprise, my woman.

The press of Volcano’s kisses covered her body like a phantom lover, as she blinked her eyes open. She certainly didn’t stand in the front room of their mountain cabin anymore.

“Oh, Volcano...” Hardly daring to believe it, Sedona gasped. With her hands flying to her throat, she murmured, “Straight out of Gone With the Wind. Like the plantation mansion of Tara.”

Sedona’s astonishment was an ecstasy unto itself, as she slowly turned, taking in the lavishly appointed ballroom. The crystal chandeliers and gilt-framed mirrors sparkled in afternoon’s sunlight. Dark red velvet drapes added to the room’s elegance, as did the taper candles waiting to be lit.

With her senses staggered, Sedona took her time, gazing at everything. How long ago had it been when she’d revealed her youthful, twenty-something dream to him?

They’d been in bed, cuddled in each other’s arms. She’d been leafing through an old magazine they’d discovered in a trunk. Inside were photos of a replica, pre-civil war southern mansion -- the exterior and the interior.

After her spontaneous gurgles of delight, Volcano had questioned her. Shoving away her sadness, Sedona had talked about her dream to create a back-in-time resort based on this period in time.

Do you like it? We cupids aim to please.

Maybe it should be Rhett instead of cupid. Sedona hugged herself, and knew her eyes shone with anticipation.

Before her mind’s eye, Volcano performed a rakish bow.

Are we dancing soon, Rhett Volcano?

Soon, my beloved. The Divine Council meeting is progressing well.

The pups? she asked, concerned about their two dogs.

In seconds, Aru and his mate appeared before her. After quizzical looks at her, they gave her doggie smiles, then began their canine exploration.

Volcano’s ephemeral kiss touched her forehead, a temporary farewell. Your gown is upstairs, my Sedona, inside our bedroom.

With her heart lighter than air, and trip–trip tripping rapidly, Sedona rushed toward the splendid staircase. Reaching the first step, she raced upward, the rose still clutched in her hand.

~~~~~~

WHEN A GOOD ANGEL FALLS

Blurb ~

Winter Solstice, December 21, 2012 – The end of the Mayan Calendar

What happens when a world weary, worn out incarnated angel, Sedona, who believes she is merely human has three choices after her old van breaks down? Let the Nazerazzi squad of the North American Union capture her and force her into a FEMA concentration camp? Walk out into the Arizona night desert, let the wildlife have a good meal, with the hope her death will be quick? Or does Sedona trust the mysterious stranger suddenly before her? Handsome as sin and all in black, he emerges from the darkness astride a super-speed black motorcycle.

Is he her savior from the brutal hell of end times, or is he a roving cult member of the New World Order, hunting his next blood sacrifice?

Sent from heaven to help her save humanity, Zerr Dann knows the Divine is playing its last card on Earth.
~~~~~~

Have a Happily Ever After ~

Savanna

Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance ~

A Magical Return Now Available

Happy Monday!

Are you in the mood for some magic?  For love both lost and found?  If so, my recently released paranormal, A Magical Return, just might appeal.

AMR is now available at Liquid SilverBooks, Amazon and All Romance Ebooks.

Blurb:

The Loss

Conleth “Cole” Douglas, warlock and vessel, needs a miracle.  A destructive force has taken hold of his town and it will take more than just he and his magical Other, Cole, to eradicate the Evil.  When an attempt to open his lover, Emterra, to their shared destiny fails, Conleth and Cole take extreme measures to stop the rising darkness.  Their only option: take it, and themselves, into another realm.

Emterra “Irene” Azzurra, untapped witch and vessel, has given up on finding her own happy-ever-after.  Devastated by the loss of her one and only love she becomes disinterested and remote, closed off from a life without Conleth.  Even her job as the mayor of the dying town of Douglasville, MO, fails to sustain her, until she gets a blast from the past…

The Return

He’s back, alive and whole, but he didn’t come alone.  The evil they’d hoped to contain in a distant realm has returned with him and is out to finish the job it started. There can be no failure this time, the now middle-aged, Emterra must accept her Other or doom the town to an agonizing death.

Skeptical of his sudden homecoming, Emterra is afraid to hope that his return could be true.  She balks at the idea of opening her heart to him again.  Especially when he looks like the same young Goth from ten years ago and tries to convince her she’s sharing skin with a magical being.   

Can Conleth prove his claims of magic and the Others to be true?  Can Emterra allow herself to believe in love and his wild claims?  Or will the returning Evil finally swallow this town and all its inhabitants into the deepest realms of hell.

May your day be filled with magic!

Serena

Shapeshifter Romance ~ White Fang and Pasha Celebrate

Here’s a flash scene, I wrote for the LUCK OF THE IRISH BLOG HOP, starring the heroine and hero of a shapeshifter novella I will be penning for an anthology.
~~~

White Fang and Pasha Celebrate

“Talk about wearin’ of the green,” White Fang muttered as Pasha entered the Pleasure Club’s Irish Pub.

The emerald green evening dress clung like a faithful dog. Bad as the spectral, but real Dublin Black Dog, he wanted to lick every nook and cranny -- take his time savoring her juiciness.

Holy hell, no surprise his cock gave a jerky salute beneath the polished wood plank table. To distract himself for a moment, White Fang tipped up his mug of Guinness, and took a deep swallow.

Feck and kiss the blarney stone, he could have poured straight whiskey down his throat, and not burned as much as he did now.

White Fang figured the woman cat goddess owned every carnal hormone rampaging through his body. Lykouz! Worse, he had to resist shifting into a wild wolf beast, and jumping on her statuesque bones. Right here. Right now.

Grrrrr-pant-pant...AHROOOOOOO...

So far, their matings had only occurred in human form, but...and, Pasha’s butt was so round and sumptuous, White Fang dreamed about handling her ass when they weren’t together.

She swayed toward him from across the large room, all sexual grace, and he sure as all hell was going to enjoy the show she put on for him. After all, Z’Pasha, granddaughter of Bastet, was the queen of seduction. In and out of the bedroom.

Slowly, White Fang traveled his gaze from Pasha’s exotic feline face down the column of her lovely neck. Her peridot shamrock earrings dangled, caressing the top of her mostly bared shoulders.

Her voluptuous breasts were confined by the heavy silk of her dress. Still, her aroused nipples pushed at the fabric, begging for the tug of his teeth.

White Fang gripped the handle of his mug hard. Not wanting to shatter it, he set it aside. To torment himself further, he sniffed in her perfumed scent -- woman feline heat mingled with jasmine blossoms.

“Do I have your attention, super dog?”

Like an itch that had to be scratched, her low purring voice scratched his study-ready balls. “Pasha, gorgeous pussy, your jaws are clamped on my attention.”

Knowing she wasn’t finished with him, White Fang waited, his gaze lapping at the revealed swells of her breasts.

She leaned slightly, her breasts subtly jiggling. “Pant, pant, super dog,” she sultrily crooned.

At the same time, she trailed the chiffon silk scarf she carried on his shoulder. Then, like a breathy whisper the scarf brushed his earlobe.

Bending over, his seductress traced the rim of his ear with the point of her tongue. “Leather boots and the scarlet book I magickally sent you?” she asked, her whisper a soft purr.

“In front of the fireplace,” he growled, low and needy.

“Later, if you want my pot of gold and a marathon ride between my thighs...remember, my love wolf.” She paused.

Her fingernail lightly clawed his other earlobe, and White Fang nearly gnashed his teeth. His cock gave a mighty jump, threatening to bust through his old-fashioned leather breeches.

Her lips seized his. All too briefly. With a rub and cuddle of their noses, she straightened.

Waving off his gentlemanly attempt to rise, she moved opposite him, and seated herself. White Fang devoted his gaze to the hump-inspiring slink of her hips.

“Remember?” He raised a brow.

“Do not ask ‘why is it green?’”

Pasha’s wide smile reminded him of the infamous cat who had eaten the cream.
~~~~~~

For Shapeshifter Fun and Fever visit us at ~ SHAPESHIFTER SEDUCTIONS
~~~~~~

BLESSINGS TO ALL!

Savanna

Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance ~
~~~~~~

Savanna Kougar is the best-selling author of ten ebooks, with five books in print. She pens love stories because that’s her deepest heart. She writes in the futuristic/fantasy/paranormal subgenres because that’s her fiercest passion. And, she writes erotic romance because she ferociously enjoys ripping the damn doors off.
~~~~~~

Escape ~ Indulge in an Erotic Romance Novel

Kevin Sorbo as Hercules

Happily Ever After, everyone. I hope the New Year of 2011 is treating you right? And, I hope you’re treating yourself right by reading those romance novels that tingle you the most ~ heart, mind, body and soul *tingle* you.

Escape, that magical feeling when you’re reading a book that carries you away to another world, another time, another place. As human beings, we also use our fantasies to escape. And, as a writer, my fantasies come in darn handy when I’m dreaming up plots for my erotic romance novels.

One of my reoccurring fantasy themes is escaping to a world of real men. Yes, REAL MEN!!!

Okay, I’ve always had this special fondness for the male sex. I don’t mean only as a woman wanting a man. I just like men. I liked hanging out with them. I liked playing sports with them. I liked listening to their stories. Yep, I’ve always enjoyed being around men, unless they got too crude or too into the whole ‘top dog’ thing.

However, these days, where are the real men? Being a baby boomer I’ve seen and experienced a lot in this world. I’ve witnessed and lived the changes. My memory of the events, the times I’ve lived through is as brilliant and sharp as watching a movie.

And, sadly, I’ve watched our culture become what I call ‘wimpified’, in general terms that is, and certainly not on an individual basis. I believe this is one reason there is such a craving for Alpha Heroes and also Alpha Heroines. Certainly, these romance novel subgenres remain a hot trend.

However, let’s get to the fun part. What follows is a flash I came up with around my fantasy of finding real men.
~~~~~~

His Pretty Woman

Stopped in her tracks, Shekia stared at the monolithic arches crisscrossing the intergalactic port. When she’d embarked on this all-paid-for vacation she hadn’t expected to face this level of magnificent architecture. There was nothing like it on her world, or the planet-worlds she regularly traveled between as a private courier.

Even the holo travelogue couldn’t do it justice. Unaware she moved at first, Shekia gradually spun around, her gaze fastened on the gigantic sweep of what appeared to be merchant offices inside the arches – given the logos.

“Like what you see?”

The man’s low rumbly voice teased her in a kind, yet provocative manner. Unused to that timbre, Shekia whipped around. The travelogue certainly hadn’t lied about the superior handsomeness she could expect to find.

The man smelled virile. The scent tickling her nostrils juiced her sex, a rare occurrence for her when it came to encounters with the male gender.

In appearance, he reminded her of a golden-maned Hercules. His build was similar to the ‘men of renown’, ancient Earth men who had been the sons of the gods and goddesses.

As a young woman she’d spent much of her day in the Denver International Library studying the recordings of these Herculeses, as she called them. Especially the discs found beneath the paw of the Sphinx.

The ancient tech record had been discovered during the 2020s. Even though, the men of renown had been all too neatly villainized by the accompanying documents, there had been something inside Shekia that questioned, that voraciously hungered. She wanted to know the truth about them no matter what.

Now face-to-face with a man who stood a good foot, and probably more, above her, Shekia tried to get her tongue to work. And dammit! When had her mouth dried up like a desert?

“Why is it so not busy...here?” she managed in the sexy galactic lingo he’d used. “I mean for a port?”

Taking a step closer to her, his intent gaze never wavered, yet he pointed upward. “Have you noticed the position of our sun?”

Lost in the odd dark amber of his eyes, Shekia shook her head. Then, despite her usual composure in every situation, she bit her bottom lip.

He moved closer, and before she could step back, his huge hands lightly gripped her shoulders. He turned her around so she faced outward.

Her butt grazed his amazingly hard thigh as he drew her against him. The thin, pewter gray fabric garbing his warrior-muscled physique hardly prevented her from feeling what he obviously wanted her to feel.

Shekia followed his hand as he pointed upward. High in the aquamarine blaze of sky, the planet-world’s sun gleamed like an ultra shiny gold disc.

“It is the hour of the midday meal. We take that quite seriously here, pretty woman. I am here because your arrival could be scheduled at no other time.”

“Sorry to inconvenience you,” she murmured, even as her traitorous butt now tingly begged for the touch of his hand. Hell, her whole body hummed with arousal. The image of her with Mr. Hot Hercules’s hands all over her naked body flashed before her mind’s eye.

“You are an inconvenience.” His voice was somewhere between a purr and a growl, and definitely a seduction of her senses. “However, I have made dining arrangements for us.”

Shekia emerged from her stupefied hormonal state. “What are you? Part of the vacation package?”

“I am your vacation package, pretty woman.”

Somehow, he eased her around to face him again. Shekia only knew his hands were on her, commanding her in a way that quantum-leaped her libido.

“I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced.”

How those inane words had left her mouth, Shekia didn’t know, except she felt at a major disadvantage. For Goddess sake, she already clung to the man’s humongous forearms.

“I am Zolion, a third generation son of the Apollo lineage, as you would recognize it. Yes,” he answered her startled gaze, “we know about your educational study of us. Once a disc is activated we track whoever takes an avid interest.”

Shekia’s stomach somersaulted several times. “What do you want with me?”

His gradual smile warmed her the same way the sun warmed her flesh whenever she laid on the beach...only now it was from the inside out, lust included.

“I want to show you how we vacation here. I want to show you how a man treats his woman.”
~~~~~~

Authors, I invite you to share the fantasies that inspire your books.

Readers, what fantasy-escape story turns you on the most?
~~~~~~

Happy Romancing in 2011

Savanna

Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance ~
~~~~~~

Cowboys Don’t Do Romance Photos

Oh, those sexier-than-all-get-out cowboys are out there and starring in many of our romance novels, these days. Our very own Celia Yeary has authored TEXAS BLUE, SHOWDOWN AT SOUTH FORK and ALL MY HOPES AND DREAMS. My author friend, Gem Sivad, pens western erotic romances that are realistic and gritty, but where love triumphs over all.

Western romance has exploded onto the scene. Like a huge cyclone racing and churning over the prairie, there’s no stopping these hero-driven stories. Yep, a lot of readers want them. And, I’m in their camp. I was raised on all the great TV westerns and cut my teeth on Gene Autry and his famous horse, Champion.

However, I have a question: Where Are the Romance Novel Cowboys? Their photos, I mean. I addressed this question on my personal bloggie, Kougar Kisses, and I thought I’d share and expand on my experience here. Plus, I got a little crazy over it all, as I am wont to do, so beware, strange flights of x-fantasy ahead.

I spent most of Wednesday searching out those *not to be found* cowboy photos, only to end up spinning my eyeballs and draining my brain. As an author, I find I am in desperate need. Yes, this little lady is desperate for cowboys to star on the cover of her next release.

However, as I discovered, evidently, cowboys don’t do romance photos. At least, if they do, they don’t make them available on the royalty free sites. I found out this sad truth after my cover artist, Amanda Kelsey, told me there were no Stetson-wearing men awaiting their chance to be featured on my cover. Dang! Dang it all.

So, of course, I went spanning the Google globe and the Bing globe... nope, not really much of anything usable. Great pics, but zero, zip, zippo...nada. So, my next two moves...

First, I contacted Gem Sivad because she has a photo stable of the most studly cowboys. She hires them on whenever they meet her rigorous romance-author standards. Gem took pity on my plight and sent a selection of Jimmy Thomas photos from his biz sight ~ RomanceNovelCovers.com. Oh, yes! Do take my breath away like a Spring whirlwind...and were my fingers ever itching to write stories around some of those photos. Woooweee!

Okay, Jimmy is not wearing a Stetson in any of the pics, as I envisioned my cowboys would be, and I finally decided a change of plans for the cover was in order. The pics I chose as possibilities... well, we’ll see. That’s in the ‘goddess of cover art’ works.

My other move was to email the Cowboy’s Sweetheart artist, Deb Trotter ~ http://debtrotter.com ~ Deb is a wonderful inspiration as an individual and as an artist. Check out her webbie place. Anyway, I thought she might know something the rest of us don’t. But, no. She’s lookin’ for those elusive gone-wild cowboy photos, herself.

So, where are you Stetson-wearing, rough-tough cowboys hiding? And, why hideout from us desperately seeking romance novelists? We, who adore you, sigh over you? And only want your images to sexily grace our covers.

There’s a market there, boys... if yer of a mind to sell photos of yourselves through the royalty free pictures sites. Give it some thought while yer out there ridin’ the range, eatin’ dust and listening to the bawling cattle.

What about all you ultra tough rodeo cowboys? How about giving us authors a break before you break something flyin’ off that longhorn bull? Before Tornado, the worstest and bestest bronco in the wild, wild west tosses you into the dust, an instant after your triumphant ride.

Or, if you’re holed up in the hole-in-the-wall...why not invite us to join you for a secret photo session? Yep, we’ll bring the whiskey and good times, and not the law. And? Maybe there’ll be a little hanky panky pantin’. Oh, and we promise...shhhh...we won’t reveal your location...wink, wink... unless, you want us tell our best girlfriends and other gal pal authors.

Good gosh, wouldn’t that be a fun erotic romance novel to pen... stalking the wild cowboy... infra-red trail cameras, lookin’ for boot tracks or horse hoof prints in the soft ground... maybe a stray hair or two caught in the brush... a lost sweat-stained Stetson... a frayed lariat. Bait, okay, let’s see... freshly brewing coffee wafting on the early morning winds... yep, sorta like the way some are searching for Big Foot... okay, maybe not. Still, our elusive cowboy could have big feet...if yer gettin’ my drift here... and this Big Cat cowboy-lover is definitely drifting toward the extra naughty in her always-wicked imaginings...meow-wowsa!

Wait! That’s my next title, my next inspiration ~ Stalking the Wild Cowboy. It’s mine all mine!!!!! Rawrrrrrr... scratch and claw... unless, someone has already laid claim and used it.... hmmmm....but, what an adventure. Famous woman photographer takes to the western wildlands of America to hunt down a reclusive cowboy for her next coffee table book. He’s rarely been sighted and he’s rumored to be almost every cowgirl’s perfect dream lover. Women lost in the back country have claimed an ecstatic unforgettable night of pleasure in his arms, only to be returned home with no idea who their rescuer is, or where they can find him again.

BTW, can you copyright a premise?
~~~

Happy Spring Reading!

Savanna

Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance ~

Romancing Spring’s Arrival

Pic from ~ http://img.xcitefun.net ~

Spring officially arrives on March 20th, and yes, I’m romancing Spring’s arrival... sort of... mostly.

In my neck of the woods, Spring is definitely announcing its glorious self. Yep, my tame prairie is slowly greening, the bright green blades of grass emerging strongly from beneath the huge clumps of brown, winter-dead grass--I’m against mowing, for the most part, although, paths are always nice. Since I live in a no-zone, out-of-the-way-place I’m not ruining anyone else’s property values. And I don’t think the cows next door care.

Most of all, the froggies are singing loudly and blissfully especially when it rains, or just sprinkles. Yes, the daffodils are springing up magnificently from beneath their deep bed of leaves, apparently happy with all the doggie poo fertilizing they’ve received.

The down side of Spring’s arrival, so far. Mud. My long gravel drive is winter-ravaged and now the recent rains have increased the mud factor, big time, making it a challenge to negotiate. This is also true for our gravel roads. You have to be a damn good driver, or drive at a snail’s pace. Actually, a good idea, given the slip-sliding conditions and the miniature ravines that shake, rattle and could ‘roll’ your car or van. A small all-terrain tank would be an excellent choice for travel.

Still, I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. Spring is springing. Nature is all around me, singing, chirping, flying and growing robustly. At every moment of every new day, all I have to do is look out my favorite window, open the door... and smile at what I see and smell... well, okay, the allergies are no fun, but I have natural remedies for that.

Yes, the bliss of Spring is all mine.

Or ~

And Spring arose on the garden fair,
Like the Spirit of Love felt everywhere;
And each flower and herb on Earth's dark breast
rose from the dreams of its wintry rest.

~Percy Bysshe Shelley, "The Sensitive Plant"
~~~~~~

And, here’s my newly penned Spring Flash ~

Khryn’s Golden Unicorn

Khryn watched the golden unicorn appear in Spring’s flowering meadow, arriving from the Mist Realm. Excitement and hope flapped her lacy crystalline wings rapidly, yet with complete silence. She crept around the Walnut tree’s trunk, peering more closely at the glorious beast, who grazed on the violets. If only she could move without detection for long enough, his gleaming golden back would be hers for as long as she wished to ride him. Well aware of how keen the unicorn’s senses were, Khryn dashed for the berry thicket, her speed like a breeze’s song. From bloom to leaf, she fluttered.

Her tiny form hidden by a cluster of daisy leaves, Khryn peeked out. Directly ahead, the unicorn’s beautiful sun-kissed tail swished with contentment. Her heart quickened it’s throb in celebration. She was close enough to wing astride him. Pausing, Khryn spider-webbed her senses seeking out the stallion unicorn’s mood. Uh-oh, he’d felt her mental scan. On impulse, determined, she flapped furiously soaring for his back as he raised his head, preparing to run. Flying with all her might, Khryn focused on fist-seizing his shimmering mane. Her legs settled on his back as he launched into a gallop. She clung, ecstatic.
~~~~~~

HAPPY ST. PATRICK’S DAY!

May the March winds blow for you and not against you...

Savanna

Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance ~

Romancing the Erotic ~ Nude Dancer at Elazion

Yes, it’s yours truly, again, with more Flash Fiction.
Ever fantasize about being free to dance artistically, yet not be labeled as ‘less than’, but to be revered, instead?

Nude Dancer at Elazion

Drakur unfolded his large frame from his sleek black flyer and strode toward the intimate nightspot, the Elazion. She was supposed to dance tonight, the woman who occupied his thoughts so ferociously he’d turned into a bad-tempered bear. Private Detective to the wealthy and anyone who sought justice, he now spent his precious energy thinking of ways to entice her into his bed, instead of concentrating on his cases, and handling them with his usual competence and ease. Held in the highest esteem, the nude dancers were off limits, untouchable, unless they consented to being taken, or taken care of.

Shandryss watched herself in the crystalline mirror of her vanity. Languorously she swept the comb through her waist-length hair pleased with the sheen and silky heaviness. Physically and mentally, she prepared herself to dance as she most desired her performance. She danced only when inspired, only at her artistic pleasure, as did every nude dancer in the metropolis of Ovocha. Freeing her mind of thought, she gazed at her face. The indigo-tinted lighting luminesced her features, sharpening them, causing her to appear more exotic. She warmed inside to seductive, a woman who wished to please men with her carnal sensuality.

Drakur smoothed his hand downward, adjusting his double-breasted evening jacket. After a glance at the small empty stage, he lowered himself to the chair at his private table, centrally placed, yet not too close. He wanted a certain view of her as she revealed her naked body. He also wanted her know he was available, as his table indicated. Only so many men were allowed inside for each woman’s performance. Having no idea when ‘she’ would dance, he’d arrived early and paid a premium for this spot. She’d danced directly in front of him before, slinking atop his table once.

Shandryss allowed her thoughts to center on the ruggedly handsome Private Detective who’d attended all of her performances for the past half year. Rarely was she tempted by a man or how he could sexually please her in his bed. The art of the dance, the creative act of seduction, itself, is what lived inside her as a fierce and ever-driving passion. Yet, something about his strong presence, his dedicated persistence, the deep admiration and the bold desire glinting in his gaze... certainly, he’d spent a small fortune by now. Though, many men had devoted themselves to watching her dance.

Drakur tasted the drink he’d ordered. The potent anise flavor burned down his throat in the way he favored. For an instant, the smolder diverted his attention away from the pole his cock had become, already making a tent of his loose trousers. Other women had become his past, except for one, who demanded nothing more than a roll and a fuck from him. Lately, he’d cast her aside, having no desire to keep using her as a way to relieve his unrelenting appetite for Shandryss. Even her performance name taunted him, excited him and scorched the length of shaft.

Shandryss rose and propped her bare foot on the satin-covered stool. She caressed the gleaming lotion onto each of her legs, then gradually covered her entire body. Beneath the luminosity of the Elazion’s lights her flesh would glow provocatively with each movement of her unrehearsed dance. The dance would arrive from her innermost self, inspired by the music, by her mood, by the men who watched her. She practiced her art nearly everyday for the sheer love of it, for the euphoria of discovering what her body could do athletically and artistically. To learn how she wished to express herself.

Drakur endured the performances of the three dancers, sexually beautiful presentations of the Goddess. Yet, they weren’t the woman who’d staked a permanent claim on his loins. Yeah, permanent. He didn’t fool himself. Only the fact that he would be banned forever from the Elazion stopped him from possessing Shandryss with his touch. Stopped him from dragging her close and kissing her lush lips until she willingly clung to him, and wanted him enough to let him bed her. Knowing she was about to perform, he gulped down the last swallow of his drink, then surreptitiously observed the other men.

Shandryss glided to the center of the stage, merely a half-circle extension of the Elazion’s slick shimmering floor. Keeping her gaze lowered, she listened to the opening strains of the music she’d chosen. To the languishing soft-sweltering tempo she allowed her white satin robe to fall from her body and pool around her. Utter silence prevailed, except for the sultry rise of the music around her. Shandryss moved, her arms twining above her head. Sensually arranging her body in the demure invitation of a rain goddess, she danced, presenting a series of sinuous poses, then fluidly whirling among the tables.

Drakur sat like a statue, completely transfixed as the robe slipped from Shandryss. Her exquisitely formed body undulated, each curve beckoning him again and again. Enhanced to blue radiance by the lighting, she lissomely spun as if she truly danced on the glistening blue surface of a lake. His perfect goddess, she drowned him with her beauty, tormented his loins with her inspired dance, and made a tidal wave out of his most ruthless passions. Only for her. The gorgeous writhing of her body moved closer to every man until the crescendo of the music. She fled, a chased nymph.

Shandryss breathed rapidly from the exertion of her dance. And, she admitted for the man who had powerfully chased her every move with his gaze. Why not discover if he could please her passionate appetite? With the performances ended for the evening, she swayed toward his table before reason could stop her. The attack of his gaze, the hope blazing in his eyes, had her hips exaggerating their natural swing. Like a feline she launched on top of his table, then leaned forward on her elbows. Watching his hunger devour her, she touched her fingertip to his offered his fingertip.
~~~~~~

HAVE A LOVELY WEEKEND...

~ MAY YOUR BRIGHTEST READING DREAMS COME TRUE ~

Savanna

Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance ~ http://savannakougar.com ~
http://bookstrand.com/authors/savannakougar ~
~~~

Romance Flash on the High Galactic Seas

Artwork ~ Flight of the Intruder

Yo ho ho, a space pirate-ing we will go... yep, I admit it. I have swoony *oh my heart be still* thing for those wickedly gallant heroes... the pirates in swashbuckling tales, in the olden movies and in romance novels.
So, when the opportunity to write a pirate flash came by... I didn’t resist. At all.

The Buccaneer King’s Captive

ONE
Zambrono drastically reduced the speed of his space hawk jet. He’d launched from his Galleon cruiser mere minutes ago. Someone was about to steal the cargo he’d already claimed with his own eye via his senors. On his galleon’s main screen he’d watched a three-person Slip, a small battle cruiser, flash-shoot toward the heavy-bellied transport craft being escorted by a fleet of six warships. Whoever engaged the warships must have balls as heavy as dense black matter because the other galactic pirates he knew would have given it a wide berth without enough attack ships. Zambrono growled, his lip curling.

TWO
Selendra streaked her Slip between two of the warships, blasting them both with one of her secret weapons. Streams of diamond-fed plasma disabled one warship and significantly damaged the other. Looping above them, she dove toward the warship on her tail and fired hydro-shots into its central energy core. That would slow it down until she could finish it off. Zigzagging past the limping warship, she flew beneath the whale-like transport and targeted the bay hatch. Her red cutting beams seared away the magnetic-hold field. Having dispatched two warships already, she spun her ship like a top, searching... oh, no!

THREE
Zambrono caught the charging warship’s core with his gold suspension rays, and left it floating helplessly close to the transport. While he roared a laugh of triumph, he watched the Slip halt its amazing spin, then lock on his hawk jet with a particle scan beam. A second later the balls-brave captain slid the Slip up and to the side of the transport, out of his firing range, unless he wanted to take a chunk out of the transport’s cargo hold. “Later,” he snarled the promise. Corkscrewing his jet toward the warship still able to attack, he gold-coated its core.

FOUR
Selendra’s innards flinched for an instant. Her scan didn’t lie. That was the hawk jet of a man known as the Buccaneer King. Well, frizzle frazzle hell, he wasn’t getting her hard-won cargo. Avoiding the pulse cannons peppering space around the third cargo bay’s entrance, Selendra carefully wove toward her real target, located within the bay she hadn’t attacked. Keeping one eye glued to the jet hawk’s advance, she unsealed the tiny bay’s field and cruised her Slip inside the instant the door cracked open. She re-sealed the door enough to allow for some gravity. The ten giant cases settled.

FIVE
Zambrono barked with irritation. The Slip had vanished from his sensors and not within the bay that had been opened with red cutting beams. With the warships useless, he aimed for the guts of the transport and fired his plasma ice ray, freezing the four energy cores to gelatinous goo. The cores would reform in a short time powering the transport again. He grrrrrd, then sneered. What the black hole hell was the other pirate captain up to? His curiosity engaged and his wrath, Zambrono combed his sensors over the transport looking for the balls-to-the-space-walls captain. He found him, departing.

SIX
Selendra sidled the Slip close to the cases, filled with the red diamonds that had been stolen from the Juijitts, then illegally sold, and now on their way to a weapons’ manufacturer. Swiftly placing on her breathing helmet, she opened her own holding bay. She seized her magnetic grappler and jogged the short distance to her bay. Waiting for the atmosphere to stabilize enough, she hauled ass outside and rapidly attached the beam-lock to the cases, loading them one by one. About to enter her hold, she felt muscular arms latch onto her waist, and squeeze unmercifully. “What the hell...”

SEVEN
Zambrono finished, “you’re a girl.” His new prize twisted like a fairy fiend, seeking any way to hurt him, and escape. He kept his capture of her, barely. Her exceptionally rounded ass attacked his engorging cock without mercy. Her soft, beautifully firm breasts were no easier on his forearms as he carried her to his hawk jet. The heels of her boots struck his booted shins. And he would have laughed heartily at the way her arms flailed seeking his harm, if he could be certain of his hold on her. Tossing her within, he dived on top of her.

EIGHT
Selendra stilled, as motionless as her cruiser caught in the eye of galactic cyclone. She listened to the wind-keening sound of the Buccaneer King’s jet seal itself. Once the gravity field stabilized, his tremendous weight pinned her all too effectively. She needed a superb battle strategy to escape the Vrilorv man engulfing her entire body with his. Not only that his breeding anatomy seemed pleased with the feel of her. “Damn, you beast,” she scathingly greeted. He’d nearly ripped off her breathing helmet. “What is that? Your cock or are you carrying a planet blaster in your pants?” She laughed.

NINE
Zambrono stared at the beauty who belted out guffaws. Hell’s black star, if her luscious little body didn’t feel like the perfect carnal distraction beneath him. She’d captured him as easily as he kept her trapped. Before he could think what to do with her, other than throw her inside his bed quarters and bind her against escape, the various ways he’d pleasure her, then relentlessly mount her, during one of his libation-spilling feasts, possessed his mind’s eye like a treasure he’d decided on acquiring. “Red diamonds,” he uttered, at the thought of booty. “Keep your paws off,” she snarled.

TEN
Selendra assessed her enemy like the ice princess she’d been accused of being, by every male who’d sought to defrost her with the stabbing thrust of his mating blade. The Buccaneer King’s features had been carved by a wicked laser. Harsh, feral, with a handsomeness that, no doubt, conquered many a female, his startling indigo eyes sought to conquer her. Unmoving, he gazed at her, wanting to steal her woman’s soul the same way he carried off a belly full of precious cargo, then unscrupulously sold it to the highest bidder. By her life, he wasn’t plundering her red diamonds.
~~~~~~

HAPPY ROMANTIC NEW YEAR!
May your brightest, most romantic dreams come true...

Savanna

Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance ~

Erotic Romance for the Ice Age

Brrrrr-ing shivers, everyone! There were record cold temps in Washington DC. and down South.
There’s lots of nasty coldness all over the world, right now, and I’m still in the deep freeze on the tame prairie.

No, please, no! No Ice Age!!!

So, yep, I did it. I appealed to the weather god via X-Rated Flash ~

The Ice God Cometh

I
Selesta stared at the snowy frigid landscape from her west-side window. “Too damn cold,” she muttered bleakly. Even though, she appreciated the glistening white beauty of the snow covering her bare-limb trees and the sloping pasture, she’d grown all too weary of dealing with the days of bitter temperatures. And, there was no relief in sight. Keeping her home comfortably warm, along with herself, had become a draining chore. Not to mention, her energy bill shot for the gray dreariness of the skies. Oh, yippee. Like she had money to burn.
“I’m just so damn tired of always feeling cold.”
II
Selesta let the blanket she’d put up as a makeshift barrier against the horrible cold, fall back against the window. Turning away, she hissed an angry defeated sigh. Her bed looked all too inviting. Since she had an electric blanket, it was the only place she felt warm enough, especially if she cuddled up to an electric pad, as well.
With so many homeless and hurting, these days, she felt guilty for not counting her blessings. Still, she’d endured for years. Against all the odds thrown at her. There was no improvement in sight. No way to make things better.
III
And, she was just damn effing worn out. Yawning, she let the bed win out. Besides, she’d been burning both ends of the candle for a decade or more, thinking that would work to make her life better. It hadn’t. All it had done was ruin her health and enslave her to debt.
Crawling beneath her blankets, she arranged them and let her head sink into the mound of old pillows. Most of them she’d had for a decade, at least. Maybe, two decades. Hey, so she hoarded pillows. “Yeah, that’s what I need,” she murmured, “a fucking pillow intervention.”
IV
It didn’t take long for the warmth to loosen her muscles. Drowsiness crept over her. “I should talk to the weather god,” she whispered, amusing herself with her own sad desperation. “Yeah, I should head on up to wherever Mr. Weather God lives... demand he change the weather.” Selesta snuggled deeper, glad for a few moments of feeling good, feeling warm. “Demand he stop all this frigid crap.”
‘Hmmm... I wonder what a weather god would look like?’ She drifted deeper. ‘After all, I’m not asking for warm weather. I’m just asking for warmer cold weather. Ten degrees, or so.’
V
Freeing her imagination, Selesta envisioned herself as being beautiful, then saw herself floating upwards, and ascending to the clouds. Magically, they changed into a grand marble stairway and she walked inside her idea of a god’s palatial dwelling.
“Where are you?” she shouted. Her fury at being too cold all the time, seized her. “Where the hell are you? I want to talk to you, Weather God.”
She moved farther within the huge room, noting the enormous spiraling columns on both sides of her. “If I have to chase you through the entire universe, I will! I swear. I promise.”
VI
Anger fired through her as she looked around. The place seemed to be empty, yet appeared more icy in nature now. Blue and gray shades shimmered inside the impressive translucent furniture. “I mean it!” she yelled. “I’m blazing with rage.”
Selesta slowly spun around, gazing at her surroundings. “I could make all this go drip, drip, I’m so incredibly angry.” There was a thunderous echoing harumph. Only Selesta couldn’t tell where the sound came from.
“Over here.” The voice, a low modulated roar, instructed. She followed the sound and wondered if she should feel like a lowly subject. But, she didn’t.
VII
She didn’t care. Wasn’t this her fantasy? She could feel any way she wanted. Still, as she approached the indolently posed man atop an ice throne, he did look like a god in stature. She hesitated. That is, until her fury flared up. “Are you the Weather God?” she demanded.
“One of many. I am the god of your region.”
“Make it warmer. I want you to make it warmer by ten degrees.” Damn, if he wasn’t sexy in that huge, Hercules-muscled way. Only he looked like he’d been carved out of white marble. And, his skin had frosted over.
VIII
He eyed her from on high, though he didn’t seem unfriendly, just cold and mighty. “We gods require a gift,” he boomed off the walls. “What are you offering, little human woman?”
“I have a name.”
“So, do I.”
“What? The God of Ice and Snow?”
“Z’Quorr, since you ask.”
“Selesta.” She shrugged. Why not tell him?
Given Z’Quorr wore next to nothing, she couldn’t help but notice the sudden rise of his cock. Not an icicle, it matched the great size of his body and seemed to throb hotly.
“Selesta, why don’t you come sit on my lap?”
“Uhh...”
VIX
Swallowing the dry lump in her throat, she continued staring. “I, uhhh...”
“You heat me up, Selesta, and I’ll return the favor by heating up your portion of the world.”
The magnificent timbre of his voice seeped all the way to her core. “I don’t think I can... fit all of ‘that’ inside... me.”
“It’s been awhile since I’ve felt this level of heat. I want between your thighs. Come here, Selesta.”
“The Ice God cometh,” she breathlessly and inanely murmured.
“He will if you sit on his lap.” He paused, his gaze a command for her to obey him.
X
“Think of all those animals, the birds you’ll be warming up,” he continued persuasively.
Shivering, and thinking how ironic that was, Selesta moved toward him.
The moment she stepped onto the glimmering dais, his great hand wrapped around her upper arm. Suddenly, she sat astride his cock’s length. Her sex lips barely embraced the volcanic-hot pulsing.
“You are a tempting vessel.” With a touch he dissolved her clothing.
“You don’t look frosted anymore,” she whispered.
His sapphire blue eyes blazed inside her as he drew her forward. With a leisurely pace she found intoxicating, his cock forced her entrance open.
~~~~~~

HAPPY ROMANTIC NEW YEAR!
May your brightest, most romantic dreams come true...

Savanna

Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance ~

Romancing the Muse with a Flash

I’ve discovered that my Muse appreciates being romanced, at times. Not exactly surprising for an author of erotic romance. Still, if I don’t pay proper attention to what my Muse is offering me, she gets temperamental, understandably.
So, when my Muse offered up this story idea while I was in a semi-lucid state, I grabbed it and gave her a big mental hug of appreciation.
I also decided I would turn it into a Flash Fiction piece for Flash Fiction Sunday at the Liquid Silver blog. Not only is that challenging fun for me, but it lets me be with the story in an intimate way that adds important details.

From my latest WIP ~ Winter’s Carnal Splendor

ONE
Stretching, Surrisa shoved away from the holo-puter and glanced at the large, wrap-around entertainment screen. For a few minutes, she watched the street festivities of Winter Carnivale. The raucous splendor appealed to her and she planned on joining in after a much-needed night’s rest.
Quickly re-checking her progress, Surrisa disengaged the program she’d been working on, a new way to enter into the matrix of time.
“Shut down,” she ordered the lab’s control system, since it was evening and only she remained. Rising, she strode rapidly to her locker, her way illumined by a lighting strip on the corridor wall.
TWO
Moments later, Surrisa stood naked, ready to put on her winter gear. Home was about a mile’s walk away.
At the thunderous hum of the time warp machine, she whipped around. How the holy hell could it have been powered up? Bending over to retrieve her lab garments, she felt the telltale sting of a knock-out weapon.
A split second later, she slumped to the floor. Above her, the lighting hazily whirled as she tried to fight her way back to consciousness.
“All is not forgiven.” A voice roughened by rage spoke above her. “Remember that. All is not forgiven.”
THREE
‘Forgiven.’ The word circled inside her head like her favorite carousel just before everything went dark.
Then, everything became cold. Bitterly cold.
Surrisa realized she sat in a fetal position with not a stitch on. Cold seeped inside her and she hugged herself. Not only that, she felt the slight buzz of the protective bubble she’d placed around herself for warmth, automatically, as she’d been mind-trained to do.
Letting her eyes blink open, she saw white. Surrisa swiveled her head in every direction. Once her gaze fully focused, panic welled up. A glistening tundra landscape surrounded her. Beautiful, but deadly.
FOUR
Already, her energy declined. She couldn’t keep the frequency shield up forever.
What became clear as the ice crystals clinging to the outside of her bubble… as her thoughts spun and she recalled her last minutes in the lab… someone wanted her to know how she died, flash-frozen. Freeze-dried by the sub-zero weather.
Surrisa heaved out a frightened breath. A tiny mist formed because of the quickly cooling temperature. Desperately wanting to fight her fate, she sought any answer. Yet, she possessed no idea where she’d been sent or to what period of history. How could she mentally summon anyone?
FIVE
Any solution eluded her as her body heat drained away. Her eyes slipped shut and her will to live began to fail. Like a long lucid dream, Surrisa allowed the memories of her life to flow by. Once her bubble dissipated rapidly, she toppled over on her side. At least, her death should be quick, mere moments.
Delirious, with the cold stinging her flesh, she thought she felt an enormous hand grip her arm. Next, huge furry arms wrapped around her body, and she was pressed flush against a warm bare chest. Incredibly warm. And absolutely massive.
Was she hallucinating?
SIX
Still, degree by degree, her body gained in warmth.
‘You will heal.’ The words entered her mind.
Wading through the fogginess of her brain, she asked, ‘Who are you?’
‘I am Maroorq. A race you will not know about, probably.’
Her mind struggled to file through the races she did know about. ‘No. I don’t know.’ Then, it dawned on her. ‘How do you know my language?’
‘We do not speak any language. Do not worry, I am learning yours. It is similar to the English language of North America.’
Her mind went clickity clack, so it felt. North America.
SEVEN
When had that designation last been used for the AmeriCanMex States?
‘What year is it?’ she asked apprehensively.
‘The year is 2009, about to be 2010.’
Surrisa trembled violently. She’d been thrown back thirty years to a time when she’d been seven years old.
Of course, in this Earth timeline, she might not even exist. That had been part of her project, entering a matrix point that would guarantee a desired timeline.
‘2009… I’m from 2039.’
‘I saw your arrival, little one.’
‘How did you do that?’
‘There was a slice in the sky, a temporal opening. I followed your shining arc.’
EIGHT
Bewildered, yet understanding what he said… yes, he. The giant of a man carried her easily, his gait long and almost floating over the snow.
‘Where are you taking me?’
‘To my home. I will not harm you.’
Surrisa had an insane urge to laugh, to keep on laughing. ‘Isn’t that what the villain always says?’
‘Whoever placed you here is the villain, little one.’
How could she argue with that? ‘What’s your name?’
‘Call me Drokku. Your name?’
‘Surrisa, my first name. Where are we?’
‘It’s called the Arctic. We call it Polaris in honor of the White Bear.’
NINE
The Arctic. In her time much of the snow had receded, leaving a cold, yet temperate climate. ‘Polar bears?’
‘Yes, the Polar bear. Have you seen them in your time?’
‘In my time, their coats are caramel-colored like brown sugar, except in winter. You feel big as a Polar bear.’
‘I am bigger than the White Bear.’
‘Is that why you can glide over the snow this way?’
‘No. It is the way of my race.’
‘Is your race furry? Or was I hallucinating?’
‘We are furry. And we are not. You’re not furry, beautiful little Surrisa.’
‘No, I’m naked.’
TEN
Giggles wanted to burst from her lips like champagne bubbles. Only she couldn’t. She wasn’t strong enough to move.
‘Very naked.’ His words growled through her mind, bold with lust.
‘Planning on devouring my body with passion?’
‘Only if you desire it.’
Was that a bead of sweat sliding between her breasts? Heat poured inside her body, a delicious resurrection of her flesh.
‘You feel like a furnace.’
‘My body is designed to generate great amounts of heat when needed.’
She dared wonder how ‘heated’ he became when aroused. Did he gleam with sweat as he powerfully mounted a woman?
~~~~~~

HAPPY ROMANTIC NEW YEAR!
May your most romantic dreams come true...

Savanna

Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance ~

Romance, the Night Before Christmas

For some holiday fun, here’s my version the popular Christmas poem ~
“Twas the night before Christmas”

Twas the night before Christmas, when all through my home
Only I was stirring, to pen my romance tome.
My best black silk stockings were hung, ready to wear,
In hopes, my miracle Santa stud would soon be here.

The pets are nestled all snug in their places,
With visions of holiday treats making them run dream races.
Their mamma has just slipped into her red lace teddy,
And is settling her brains to continue writing her fantasy.

When out on the lawn I hear such a loud clatter,
I spring up from my desk to see what is the matter.
Away to the window I trot in my boa-trimmed slippers
To take a peek through the curtains. Oh no, is that drunk Mrs. Kippers?

The full moon shines on icy slush, instead of new-fallen snow
Giving a natural spotlight to celebrating Mrs. Kippers below.
Yet, what to my wondering gaze does appear?
But an old-fashioned sleigh, and eight majestic reindeer.

With a Viking driver, so handsomely tall and magnificent,
I knew in a moment I must be dreaming this whole event.
More rapid than jets, his stags flew the midnight sky untamed,
His long mane blew wild as he shouted, and called them by name!

"Now Dasher! now, Dancer! now, Prancer and Vixen!
On, Comet! On, Cupid! soar on Donner and Blitzen!
Fly to the top of each roof! Above the city walls!
Now race higher and faster! And sail over all!"

As autumn leaves that before the approaching blizzard fly,
When they meet with a whirlwind and spiral to the sky.
So up to my rooftop, the brown and white stags they flew,
With a sleigh full of glittering gifts, and Viking Santa too.

And then, after a blinking of my eyes, I heard on the roof
The precise landing, then the pawing of each jingle-belled hoof.
As I drew in my dreaming head, and spun around,
Down my fake chimney the Viking arrived, with an impressive bound.

He was splendidly dressed in red and faux fur, down to his boots,
And his garments remained perfect, despite all the ashes and soot.
A bundle of shiny presents he had flung behind his back,
And he looked like a romantic hero as he dashingly opened his pack.

His darkening eyes, how they naughtily twinkled! And at his dimples I gawk!
His features are sternly carved, reminding me of a beautiful proud hawk!
His full sexy mouth slowly turns upwards, a knowing grin,
As I continue to stare like a vixen at his strong virile chin.

With a saunter he approaches, making me weak in the knees.
His searing gaze travels the length of my body. And I freeze.
Without a word his powerful arm captures my pliant waist.
Crushing the lace against my skin, he has me tightly embraced.

Oh, how stalwart he feels, his muscles like hot heated ropes
And I sigh, then softly pant as I give free reign to my hopes.
His half-lidded gaze takes in my face, then settles on my parted lips
While his palms slide in a caress and boldly seize my hips.

“Oh, Santa,” I softly exhale, before his mouth claims mine in a torrid kiss.
“Wear those black silk stockings,” he rasps. “I promise bliss
When I return from leaving presents beneath every sparkling tree.”
After plundering my eager mouth with another kiss, he spins from me.

I hear him spring to his sleigh, to his stags give a fierce long shout,
Then, from my window I watch them depart like a meteor flaming out.
Still, I hear him exclaim, as he disappears from my sight,
"Happy Christmas to all, and to my gorgeous woman, leave on the light!"
~~~~~~

Wish Upon on a Holiday Star...
May your most romantic dreams come true...

Savanna

Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance ~

Christmas Romancing the Marble

In my latest 1,000 word Flash Fiction, I’m romancing the marble, instead of the stone...

Decorating the Marble Statue

The X-Flash Story of Sabrina and D’Vallis

I
11:11:11 PM flashed on the digital clock. “Oh great.” Sabrina expelled an aggravated breath. Once again, eleven had her number as in seeing them nearly everyday, even several times a day. “Yeah, yeah, enlightenment. A new spiritual age.” She rolled her eyes. “I need a new damn life. Not some nebulous promise of a better world.” Grabbing up the box of outdoor Christmas decorations, she stared down at the contents for a moment. “If this isn’t just plain stupid. Decorating a statue,” she muttered. Still, it was her job and she’d do it to the best of her creative ability.

II
Sabrina loved her aunt. Occasionally, though, Aunt Beatrice was nuttier than a fruitcake. However, Sabrina found it easier to just go along with whatever little insanity her aunt decided on. Tromping toward the lovely french doors, she swung open the one she’d unlocked and walked out into the cold night. The wind buffeted her face briskly and she shivered as she moved down the low flowing steps into her aunt’s enormous elaborate garden. During winter the plants were festive. Small pines trees and artfully arranged bushes with red berries lined the main path. Other foliage offered the birds a feast.

III
There it was. Her aunt’s pride and joy. The marble full-sized statue of a man had been shipped over from Italy twenty-one years ago. Sabrina remembered clear as day her aunt taking her by the hand when she was ten to introduce her D’Vallis, as Bea always referred to him. Each year Sabrina had been given the impressive history of the statue as close to his arrival date as possible. He’d been found on the island of Santorini, a mystical fire-formed island that Sabrina adored visiting. No one knew his actual origin and for that reason the museums weren’t interested.

IV
Bea always claimed he came to her in a dream, telling her how to purchase him. More than once, on her walks through the garden, Sabrina had heard her aunt talking to the statue as if they were the best of friends. Halting, she heaved a frustrated sigh, then perused D’Vallis. No arguing the fact that he was impressive, a Herculean specimen of manhood, even if his manhood had been discreetly draped by the artisan. “So, you want to be decorated, do you? I guess, I’m the woman for the job.” Setting the box down, she grabbed the Santa hat.

V
“Top down.” Stretching upward and it was quite a stretch, D’Vallis had to be over six foot in height, Sabrina arranged the fur-trimmed red hat above his noble, yet rugged features. “Don’t you look just too christmasy adorable?” she sing-sang. “I’ll give you this. You’re warmer than I thought you’d be.” Stepping back and leaning over, Sabrina plucked out the elegant, deep red smoking jacket. “Not exactly Santa’s style, but it should look pretty good on you.” She arranged it over his shoulders, fiddled with the hang of the garment, then tied the sash. An odd glint rippled over his torso.

VI
“Hey, you’re not moving on me, are you?” she nervously teased. She could almost swear his head had slightly altered position. “I must have the pre-Christmas jitters,” she joked, pulling out yards and yards of tiny golden stars. “Hmmm, where to wrap, how to wrap... where do you want to be wrapped?” She gazed up and down his magnificent marble physique. “If you were a man, I ‘know’ where you’d want to be wrapped. Naw, couldn’t be,” she reassured herself as she crouched by his handsome ankle. “Your bulge is showing, D’Vallis,” she crooned and began twining the golden stars.

VII
“Round and round we go.” She spiraled the ethereal trim up his hunky muscled leg. “Plenty here. I’ll decorate your manly hips.” Sabrina leaned the side of her head on his surprisingly warm chest to balance herself and worked the delicate string of stars around him. “Or, should I say, your manly loins. Yep, definitely manly.” Had his bulge increased, even lengthened? Good God! “I must be losing my marbles pressed against your marble. Or, maybe you just like all this attention. Okay, leaving the manly area to decorate your other leg. Great, I’m turning into my aunt, talking to you.”

VIII
Sliding her cheek downward, onto his hard, hard stomach, Sabrina circled the trim down his leg. Okay, she hadn’t dated in awhile. Was this some kind of Christmas fantasy her mind spun from her unconscious desperation? “Yeah, I’d date you if you were alive. Who could say no? Unless you had the personality of a gnat and a head as large as the giant blown-up Santa on top of Toy Mart.” Sabrina wrapped his ankle and shot upwards a second later. “You’re throbbing,” she accused. “How can a statue’s cock throb? Why don’t you answer that, Mr. Marble?” She scowled.

IX
“Okay, you asked for it, D’Vallis.” Sabrina reached for the only thing left in the box, a huge red velvet bow with jingle bells adorning the knot. After ripping off the tape covering the sticky strip, she stared at the splendidly carved bulge that simply couldn’t be missed. In a flash, her hand pressed the bow to the center of his marble-hard manhood. Was it the wind moaning or... it sounded suspiciously like a male groan. Sabrina ran her gaze up his torso, studying every contour of his... flesh! No, it couldn’t be. She slipped her fingertip up his six-pack stomach.

X
Marble, yes, marble. Damn hot marble. “Let’s see what happens... yeah, I’ll play ‘kiss the statue’. Why not? That’s the magic, isn’t it? If your lips are as hot as...” Sabrina smoothed her palm beneath the jacket and up his ‘too real’ chest. Standing on tiptoe, she puckered, fastening her mouth onto his. ‘Omygawd’ sizzled through her. He kissed her, his lips so possessive she couldn’t speak. A large male arm clamped around her waist, lifting her, then crushing her against a real male body. Too stunned to do anything else, Sabrina flung her arms around his neck, kissing him fiercely.
~~~~~~

Have a Splendid Holiday Season...
May your most romantic dreams come true...

Savanna

Savanna Kougar

~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance ~

Gratitude and Romantic Sassitude

From BonzaSheila, Legendary Lovers~ http://bonzasheila.com/stories/hepburntracy.html ~
In 1942, Katharine Hepburn and Spencer Tracy co-starred in Woman of The Year, the first of nine films they would make together and the beginning of a romance that would become legendary.

Gratitude... tis’ the season to take a look at what we’re most grateful for. I’ll admit this year has been challenging in that respect, for me. Yes, I am thankful for every good thing that’s come my way, for my family, my friends, my author buddies, and my doggies.
Living on the tame prairie as I call it, is a daily blessing. Just to look out at the land, the glorious softly rolling grassland lined with trees, to see the amazing and inspiring sunsets, to catch glimpses of the wild critters and watch the birds fly and live their lives... it is sustenance for the soul.
One day, several weeks ago, the early morning sunlight slanted across the trees when their leaves had changed to a lovely autumn yellow and the scene was gold. A golden radiance haloed the trees along one long fenceline. I stared, my breath taken away, my soul soaring.
This year, I had four books e-published and now two of them are in print. Smiles of gratitude are definitely on my face. Actually, I’m even more grateful to have written the stories, given I always fall in love with my heroines and heroes.

Sassitude, a word I thought of today, to describe my heroines. Though, I’m certain it’s being used by others, as well. I haven’t seen it, but the word’s a natural, given there’s kick-assitude and other variants.

Romantic purring sassitude, that’s my black cat girl, Sable, the heroine of BLACK CAT BEAUTY, released in January. The novella is written in her POV and living inside her seductive shifter skin was an absolute trip.
I’d love to have the time to write more of Sable Kiki’s story. I’m thinking... maybe... Black Cat Magic or Black Cat Friday for the title. Realistically, though, I’m so overwhelmed... well a feline-natured author can dream...

R-Snippet from BLACK CAT BEAUTY ~

Sable flipped her ear forward, noticing Devon Zant had halted high on the stairway, his attention clearly on the “accident” commotion. Although concealed by shadow, the bold strength of his physique could easily be seen. His dark shirt and pants skimmed his superbly muscled body as if the materials had been poured over him.

“Every inch the superhero,” Sable whispered, wondering how he would look flying on screen as the son of Super Ace. She hadn’t bothered with the movie trailer or the website. Especially since she’d only learned about the assignment late yesterday afternoon. A catnap in the sun had seemed much more enjoyable.

“Of course, I haven’t viewed those meaty ‘inches’ yet. So who knows if his cock is supercharged and heroic in action?” Sauntering unimpeded to the stairs, Sable briefly scanned her surroundings. Evidently Mr. Rising Superstar didn’t require beefy cow muscle to protect him ... just PETA to protect him from wandering pussycats. Maybe I should offer him personal protection from all pussies ... if he’s worthy.

Once she placed her foot, encased in the supple black leather of her sleek shoe, on the first step, his gaze fastened on her. Slowly she smiled at him. She lingered her Mae West smile on him as she provocatively swayed up the stairs.
~~~

Also released in January was MURDER BY HAIR SPRAY IN GARDENIA, NEW ATLANTIS, a finalist in the Romantic Times/Dorchester American Title IV contest. This story rose like a tidal wave from my soul and hasn’t stopped yet. I have the next book in the New Atlantis Trilogy partially written... again, all I need is time, energy and my Atlantean muse. Oh, and luck... and everything else an author needs to complete a manuscript.

*Good luck to all of us authors getting our manuscripts finished and polished!*

Yep, romantic independent sassitude, that’s my heroine, Sheriff Kalypso Sun Wing. Nope, I can’t resist that kind of tension between a woman and a man. She’s her own woman and he’s determined she belongs to him. Blame it on those Katherine Hepburn/Spencer Tracy movies I grew up on, and adored.

R-Snippet from MURDER BY HAIR SPRAY IN GARDENIA, NEW ATLANTIS

Kalypso whipped around. "Get your equipment up, stud dog, for these."

"Not worn long," he stated, watching his vid scan. "And not worn by our victim. Must be one of your citizens. She's not showing up on my ID. I can analyze her gene material, give you a profile, unless that's contrary to your sovereignty, Sheriff gorgeous. By the way, no underwear, anywhere." He fastened his gaze on her. "You're not wearing any."

"Don't like it." Kalypso averted her face, and twisted the corner of her mouth. Men! "Except on special occasions," she added for affect. "Give me a profile on our red lace gal. My prerogative as Sheriff of our fair land and town."

"I like it. That you're not wearing any...underwear. It'll take a few minutes. I have to use the central program."

"Really don't care what you like. And don't like," Kalypso grouched. "Anything else you want to investigate here?" She shoved past his great hulking frame, and breathed in the air of freedom, from him, even if it still reeked of hair spray.

"Feeling trapped by our ferocious attraction?" Zryphus sauntered toward her, his gaze locked on the vid.

"If I have to personally tromp through hell, I'm finding the killer just so I don't have to be around you!"

Zryphus raised one dark ruthless brow, then both brows. "If I were the killer I'd be quaking in my killer boots...my killer shoes, or my killer bare feet."

"Is that the diabolical plan? Make me hate you so much, I'll do whatever I have to do to get the killer, despite my duty to the sovereignty of New Atlantis?"

"No, the deviant diabolical plan is to trap you in my bed, take advantage of every carnal thrill with that exceptional and sweet body of yours."

"Disgusting doesn't cover it!" Kalypso marched toward the door.
~~~~~~

STALLION OF ASH AND FLAME is my latest release. It’s the first story I’ve ever written only from the hero’s POV. That was a trip and a half, trying my best to think in ‘manly’ terms and, at the same time, think and feel like a stallion, since Trail is a stallion shapeshifter, and more. He’s not from this Earth.
Romantic cautious sassitude, that’s my heroine, Seneca. She’s been burned by love many times and only hires Trail because she desperately needs help with her horse ranch.

R-Snippet from STALLION OF ASH AND FLAME

Before she opened the door entirely, Seneca peeked around the edge. The glisten of her bright sky eyes galloped over him. Recognizing him, she opened the door, her gaze meeting his without an ounce of pretense. Still, speculation flickered in their depths. Trail had decided a long time ago her eyes were a type of magic he wanted to explore. However, that could not be his destiny.

“Howdy, Seneca. I’m looking for a job. Mandy saw your ad for a hired hand until your brother can get back on his feet again. I’m applyin’.” He tried a small grin that he hoped looked more friendly than saying, “I want to grab your fine round ass and plunder your mouth until you melt against me.”

“Trail, is it?” She stepped outside, letting the door slam closed. Raising her chin, she eyed him almost fiercely and crossed her arms beneath her plump perky breasts. Hell, she rarely wore a bra, and now her nipples poked her flannel shirt, he knew not for him. The morning chill hadn’t been dispelled by the sun’s ferocious heat yet.

“Yes, ma’am. That’s my handle.”

“Why Trail?” Her tone interrogated him, even though her brows raised revealing her curiosity.

“End of the ” He paused, hoping for an amused glint in her eyes. Nothing. “As in, end of the trail.” Still nothing. “This is where I make my home, end-of-the-trail,” he added.

Trail had the wild urge to grab off his hat and finger the brim nervously like he’d seen in the old western movies he’d watched over and over. Yep, a filly like her would sooner kick his flanks, then race past him. That is, unless he minded his manners.

“Oh.”

Her voluptuous dark pink lips formed an O. Trail caught himself wondering if she would respond to him like Maureen O’Hara had to John Wayne when he’d hauled her over his lap and given her ass a good blistering. Or when he’d seized her against him and forced a kiss on her fighting lips.
~~~~~~

Have a Wonderful Thanksgiving...
May your most romantic dreams come true...

Savanna

Savanna Kougar

~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance ~
~~~~~~
~~~ Sable & Devon invite you to read their love story ~ will a black cat girl find happiness with a superhero? ~~~

BLACK CAT BEAUTY ... She has the claws and the cattitude to prove it... He has the super-powered strength and passion she fights, but needs... *4.5* Top Pick from Night Owl Romance Reviews ~ available from Liquid Silver Books ~ http://liquidsilverbooks.com ~ http://www.liquidsilverbooks.com/books/blackcatbeauty.htm ~ ISBN: 978-1-59578-507-7
~~~~~~
~~~ Kalypso & Zryphus invite you to read their love story ~ a match made in intergalactic heaven ~~~

MURDER BY HAIR SPRAY IN GARDENIA, NEW ATLANTIS ~ 2051 suspense futuristic, erotic romance ~ American Title IV finalist ~ One hundred years later Sheriff Kalypso despises relationships. Zryphus has found his one woman. The Battle of the Sexes begins. *4* Blue Ribbons from Romance Junkies ~ Rising from Siren-BookStrand ~ the future begins here... ~ IN PRINT ~ http://bookstrand.com/authors/savannakougar ~ ISBN: 1606011472
~~~~~~
Trail and Seneca invite you to read their love story ~
STALLION OF ASH AND FLAME ~ Available from Siren-BookStrand ~ A man-stallion of ash and flame on a mission to save his world’s Earth portal must save his Mate, a human woman forbidden to him ~ http://bookstrand.com/product-stallionofashandflame-15601-192.html ~ ISBN: 1606015931