Prejudice against those who are merely different, not only rears its ugly head between different races of humans, but also, as I found out... well, my hero, Volcano, who is known as a carnal cherub in his realm, isn’t supposed to be with Sedona, my human heroine, even if she is an incarnated angel. It’s ‘oooh-ick’ according to some.
Of course, all of us have a right to our opinions. We have a right to our feelings. And when we’re reading a romance, we have a right to be as prejudice as we want. Sexual desire and attraction is what it is. Who and what turns us on, is who and what turns us on.
So, it doesn’t hurt my feelings if a reader decides any of my books are not to be found on their reading list. However, I don’t think there’s any need to get personal about it. After all, what may be ‘oooh-ick’ and disgusting to you, may be what floats someone else’s romantic boat. It may be their erotic romance fantasy come true.
That’s part of the beauty of the human race, we are all individuals.
~~~
August 13, 2010 was the two year anniversary of Sedona and Volcano’s love story, WHEN A GOOD ANGEL FALLS. Last year I wrote their first anniversary scene. And, this year, I didn’t resist...not too much. I was hoping, though, *silly, silly me* that writing their new love/passion scene wouldn’t be like tearing my brain cells out.
Okay, so it was... but, at least, I had weeks to work on it rather than one night. Why these two scenes have been two of the most difficult I’ve ever penned, I have no idea. And, yes, this scene is X-RATED.
~~~
Mars, Here We Come
December 21, 2014
Awed, Sedona murmured, “It isn’t a dream.”
“No, my angel woman. We’re flying through the celestial skies.”
Their small crystalline ship slipped through the ether mist, a field of energy thinly blanketing the material realm. Volcano had created the ship for interplanetary travel. The castle-looking structure sustained both their physical bodies and their spiritual essence, and kept them in a balanced state.
“Now this is my idea of traveling in space.” From the corner of her eye, Sedona watched Volcano rotate his palms over two shining crystal obelisks, fine-tuning their resonance with each other.
“Sedona, my beloved, do you know how often I dreamed of you when I was away on mission?”
“No.” The breathy squeak almost lodged in her throat. She swallowed convulsively, not seeing anything for seconds.
“My love.” His voice swept around her, a sweet wind caressing her everywhere.
“I missed you so terribly.” She felt each word pour from her heart as her tears had fallen. Unlike many of her cherub’s divine missions, there had been no telepathic communication between them. No dream-walking with each other.
Aru, their precious dog, had climbed onto her lap often, tears leaking from the corner of his eyes as she stroked him. Now, Aru visited with Volcano’s best buddy in the sacred realm, Jorque, a large canine shapeshifter.
“Whenever I closed my eyes to commune, I dreamed of you instead, my Sedona. The High Council Masters were not amused.” Volcano chuckled, his laughter jovial yet purely masculine.
“Yet, your Good prevailed?” Sedona knew in her spirit he had triumphed. However, the human side of her still wanted to hear him say it.
“Yes. Soon I will properly regale you with the story. We will make manna buttered popcorn.”
His tone promised and teased both, as he loved doing with her.
“This time I get to add the butter,” Sedona tossed, her tone a match to his.
Within a moment, she saw the image Volcano mind-sent of them holding each other in front of their cabin’s roaring fireplace. She smiled, but didn’t wing it inside his mind. A series of harp-like musical tones let her know he focused on increasing their speed.
Enthralled by the prism-colored stars blazing toward them, Sedona didn’t hear Volcano’s steps until he’d moved behind her.
“Mars, here we come.”
His irresistible rasp seduced her to stormfire surrender, as Sedona liked to think of it. Volcano wrapped his arms around her in that way she adored, and Sedona sighed, happiness filling her like the pink radiance of a sunrise. She leaned back into his embrace while he pulled her flush against his sinfully sexy body. Bending to her ear, he sensually enticed the rim with his nose.
Sparks of pleasure danced through Sedona, and she moaned. “Insatiable carnal cherub,” she mock complained.
“At your service, my beautiful woman.”
“Mmmm... I can feel your ‘service’. Beastly impressive.”
Languidly writhing against him, Sedona indulged in his hard masculine frame. She let her arm have its way reaching back to hug his neck. Stroking her palm over his nape several times, she then kneaded the strong column with a leisurely sensuality.
“Wait till I get you on Cydonia.” His growl revved up her desire to the flight speed of his super-cycle.
“What is so erotically special about Mars?”
Arching against him, Sedona looped her arm around his neck, and hugged. The feel of his hands spanning her waist, and caressing, caused her to ache for more of their torrid-tangling passions, despite the previous wild night of lovemaking.
“Unique pleasures will be yours, my woman.”
Palming her breasts, he molded possessively, his hands sliding over the satiny, paper-thin fabric of her bodysuit.
“Volcano.” His name left her lips as a whisper, then became mere breath. Her head lolled back and Sedona lost herself to the molten scorch that owned her loins, then seized her sex.
Red light penetrated her eyelids. Sedona straightened fast, opening her eyes. A ruby brilliance had enveloped them.
“We’re here.” Volcano shaped her sides, her waist with his hands, the kind of seductive strokes that ignited her.
“Here?” Sedona caressed his hands, her love for him gushing from her as it always did. An arch formed before them like a magically conjured ice sculpture. Splinters of crimson light winked inside, a galaxy of them. Drinking in the enchantment, she paused, yet gave into her curiosity. “I mean I know we’ve landed on Mars. But where in Cydonia are we?”
“It’s a surprise. Think of this as our first official honeymoon, my angel woman.”
Volcano swept her upward, and into his embrace so swiftly, Sedona’s arms flew around his neck. Briefly his mouth savaged hers with a kiss that left her reeling, and, of course, only wanting more. So much more.
Once he carried her through the fantastical archway, melodies drifted around them like breezes. Delicate flights and fancies of music harmonized in an unusual way, sounding like the marriage of a flute and harp
“Ooooh... I feel like the music is on my skin... this is trippy ethereal.” Sedona reached out for the notes. “Butterflies... invisible wings brushing me. That’s what it feels like. Oh, Volcano.”
He spun with her, the movement of his body carefree, powerfully joyous. Sedona stretched her torso, then flung her arms out, surrendering. Melodies stroked her bare arms becoming like tiny ecstatic kisses.
“Saturday night fever on Mars, my dancing queen.” Volcano continued whirling her as if they disco-danced together, one of his favorite Earth date nights.
“My John Travolta on clouds,” she sang to him, once he halted and clasped her close.
Their gazes merged and held as she slid down his sculpted frame. Inside their own bubble of loveliest intimacy, they looked into each others’ eyes, their love flowing, shining, a relentless rapturous force that could never be anything but endless.
Moving in concert, they leaned closer touching noses. With the tenderest of caresses, they cherished each other. Until, finally, their lips gently met and they kissed, a long sensual fondling of each others’ lips.
After parting their mouths, Volcano speared his fingers into her hair cupping her head with his palm. “Did you know Mars is a tactile planetary culture?”
His smoldering rasp zinged straight to her sex mound causing a delicious throb. “Tactile?” she murmured, unable to catch her breath.
His fingers combed through her waist-length hair with a sensuality she found utterly luxurious. “Touch. Every sensation of touch is here, Sedona darling.”
“That turn-me-on voice of yours is doing a lot of touching, alright.” Like strings on a musical instrument, every molecule of her quivered, vibrated with passion. “You’re inside of me. And outside of me. Volcano... your voice...”
“Touch is especially amplified in Cydonia.” With a gallant move, he dipped her, as he did whenever they danced. Tantalizingly, his mouth hovered above hers as she remained draped over his arm. “You will remember the feel, the touch of everything we do here.”
She tightened her hold on his neck, basking in the feel of his “Oh, tell me more, great cherub one.”
Frowning because she’d naughtily teased him by calling him ‘great cherub one’, Volcano slid his palms down her back and gripped her ass. His hands tightened with a dominance that always excited Sedona.
Around them, a symphonic storm suddenly raged. The ruddy light flamed with an intensity that made Volcano look like her ancient-god lover. Within their depths, his dark purple eyes sparked blistering her with the power of his passion.
Sedona adored it. Seared to a fiercer need, her arousal soared. Lithe and liquid, she undulated against him pressing closer. “What you do to me... what I want you to do. Wherever we are, since you haven’t told me precisely where.”
“This is a temple, my woman. It was constructed using acoustic technology and the art of magic three thousand years ago.”
That floored her. Yet, within an instant, there was no floor. Waves of fiery crimson light held them suspended while sweetly scalding notes of music seemed to burn away their garments. In instants, they were naked.
Volcano embraced her as if they slow danced. “Sedona, my beloved, my beauty.”
Their bodies mated, skin against skin, her curves belonging to him. The illumination changed as they twined around each other. Bright scarlet luminosity held them like a gentle ocean and they floated. Immersed in one another, they joined souls, and embraced in that eternal way of all lovers.
Yet, not as carnal woman and man, even though the thick hot spear that was his cock nestled against her belly.
Rapture possessed Sedona, feeling new, as though she’d never experienced such heights before. Every particle of her felt kissed, cherished.
“I love you.” The words came easier now. She’d had such trouble saying them for so long, despite the depth of her heart for him. “I love you, Volcano.”
His smile answered her, a warm beam of ecstasy pouring inside her. A sea of gorgeous red illumination pulsed and flashed, reminding Sedona of Valentine’s day.
“Do you know, my angel woman, the human body remembers every touch, and remembers the feel of everything?”
“My body remembers the touch and feel of you. The slightest brush of your wings –“
Before she’d finished her words, Volcano captured her hips, his hold primitive. With a savage undulation of his torso, he thrust his brutally hard cock inside her welcoming sheath.
Like the mighty warrior he was, Volcano commanded her pleasures with each lunge. Indescribable sensations of bliss swirled through her. Sedona clenched his shaft tight and sank her nails into his shoulders. Her eyes remained open as blasts of scarlet light sang against her skin.
With each powerful strike of his cock, Volcano claimed her, body and soul. His bold taking of her ignited her primal fires beyond what Sedona had known. Wanting him with an impossible wildness, she drove her heels into his ass, giving him more access to her pussy.
Relentless, fierce as a raging thunderstorm, he repeatedly plunged to her core. Bolts of flaming ruby lashed her flesh. Music flowed over her skin, lush and forceful as buffeting winds. There was only the two of them. Their passion. Their intimacy with each other. Their world together.
An explosive ache seized her clit as Volcano continued launching his shaft upwards. Pleasure consumed her, red and ripe as cherries.
Volcano joined her, his cock buried deep. Their mutual orgasmic screams remained silent. Instead, orchestral notes thundered around them, mirroring the ecstasy of their climaxes.
Locked together as one, they entered the realm where time vanished. His rapture pummeled her magnificently, then entwined around the radiance of her bliss.
Back and forth, they sent their sacred essence to each other.
Melodic tones, both exalted and savage as jungle drums, embraced them, a reflection of their carnal union. Within the same moments, scarlet jewel-like facets formed, encircling them.
Sedona wrapped herself around her man. Aglow with their union, feeling soft as Volcano’s clouds, she merged her gaze with his. “Talk about an erupting volcano... Volcano.”
His answering smile glistened as it always did when she lovingly teased him. This time though, as he tightened his arms around her, a firestorm in shades of red ringed them.
“My woman. My mystic fire rose.”
Wild happiness bubbled through her. “You’re in my rose, cherub beast.”
“Always. Even when I am away from you.”
Her heart winged toward him. Her love, transformed to red rose light, swirled around him like ripples on a pond. “Yes, you live inside me. Always, my warrior.”
“Saving the heavenly universe, one world at a time.” His bantering tone teased her, even as his ruthlessly hard body pleased her. As quick, his countenance altered, his gaze becoming serious. “We, my Sedona, save the heavenly worlds.”
“Yes, we.” With her love singing from her soul, Sedona caressed her fingers through his dark mane of hair.
“Remember, my Sedona, our love here. Whenever I must leave for a time, remember.”
She watched his eyes turn powerfully luminous. His features were carved with a bronze resplendence that astounded her. “I will,” she whispered.
Volcano fused their lips in a kiss that might as well have been the beat of their hearts for each other. Once their mouths tenderly parted, the delicate feel of petals touched her skin as if she lay in a bed of roses.
Stunned by the sensation, Sedona glanced around. An immense, unbelievably exquisite red rose embraced them, the petals distinct, huge and glorious. She inhaled a fragile fragrance, yet the rose’s perfume held notes of sensuality and sweetness and passion.
“How?” she murmured.
“Our love is this rose. All we feel for each other created what occurred between us here, my precious woman. This is a Mars temple of marriage.”
~~~~~~
Happily Ever After ~
Savanna
Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance ~
~~~
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.
~~~
Monday, September 13, 2010
Interracial Romance ~ Not Always What You Think
Monday, March 8, 2010
Wagering in the World of the Blue Pearl Moon
Today, I thought I’d let my hero in All Shades of Blue Paradise, Book I & Pleasures of Blue Lotus Oil, Book II ~ speak for himself on the subject of wagering in the World of the Blue Pearl Moon. Especially, since this is the two year anniversary of his love story with Lady Sheridan.
An interview with Baron Vettura ~ Wagering in the World of the Blue Pearl Moon
Baron Zaggry Dhio Vettura entered the Regent’s extravagantly appointed reception chamber. Immediately he strode toward the woman comfortably seated on an elegant chair designed for her small, curve-flowing body. The Emissary from the green-water world of Vhesphia, the planet residing in the inner orbit next to his world, had arrived requesting to interview him.
Bowing over her slender four-fingered hand, Baron Zaggry briefly pressed his lips upon her dolphin-like skin. Rising, he offered her the warmth of his grin, and the admiring flash of his gaze. “Emissary Gjylish, may I compliment your slim loveliness and the jade-sheen beauty of your complexion?”
“Baron Vettura, you may...of course.” Her natural throat-deep voice held feminine giggles, surfacing like bubbles. “And may I compliment the promptness of your appearance. My request to interview you must have caused your personal schedule some strain. I can only apologize, however, the people of my world have been devouring news of the Braverth, and are particularly fascinated with the idea of wagering on sport events. A cultural way we do not possess. Please...” She floated her delicate arm toward the chair facing her.
Pivoting, Baron Zaggry seated himself. Lounging back like the golden cougar his Sheridan called him, he steepled his fingers and focused his full attention on the bright-eyed Vhesphian. “Your command of our formal language is most superior, Emissary Gjylish. What question would you ask first?”
“In our culture wagering occurs on games of chance and intuitive skill. Certainly not with the level of zeal your culture displays. How did high-coin wagering become such a passionate past time?”
Zag smiled suavely, lacing his fingers. “I believe high-coin wagering was born of idleness in the beginning. Once a generation was born in our history, where diligent work was no longer required, and wealth was available, the fierce boundless energy of youth demanded a past time which would excite them, and consume their passionate restlessness. Wagering, gambling...swiftly became a manner of sport, along with the various sporting games, which also originated as entertainment at that time. This new breed of sporting entertainments alleviated boredom, and brought about pleasure-vigorous ways of socializing with each other, of meeting one’s future husband or wife, especially for the most elite of the aristocracy.”
“Indeed, the ways of your aristocratic society continue to fascinate the people of my world. Yet, why the avid and frenzied level of wagering on a horse sport? Wouldn’t the pleasure and excitement of watching the Braverth be excitement-fulfilling enough?”
“Truth to your ear, Emissary Gjylish,” Baron Zaggry charmed, “the Braverth, indeed, all horse events, fulfill my requirement for excitement and entertainment. Without any need for wagering. However, coin-fortunes or other invaluable favors are to be gained by successful wagering.”
“Yes, one of the differences between us. Our society remains more communal, all to be shared. Our wagering is more for the tiny joys of winning a prized gem or a collection of gems. Whereas, your people thrive on the chaotic rise and fall of winning fortunes or favors by gambling on the swiftness and skill of a rider upon a horse. Is that not so?”
“Yes, many in our world do pursue what we call the ‘bliss-rush’ of the win, similar to the natural high of winning a sporting event. Still, there are many other dynamics at play. Often gains in coin are used in productive ways, to improve one’s land and home, to support an enterprise, which maintains the richness of our overall economy. Although, certainly, there are those who squander their gains in a juvenile and irresponsible manner.”
“Is not wagering also used as a method to possess power or take away an individual’s power?” With eel-like fluidity, the Vhesphian woman leaned forward, slightly adjusting her media recording globe.
Alert to the interview trap she set, Baron Zaggry languidly adjusted his posture, to one where he appeared more relaxed, and more in mastery of the situation. “True, Emissary Gjylish. The ebb and flow of power is, at times, influenced by wagering. A simple example would be, if I win a large purse, and use it to my advantage by growing one of my business enterprises, I gain in power and in notice, therefore my words carry greater weight.”
“Baron Vettura, there is a bold curiosity about how wagering is used in what your society calls ‘intrigues’, or what we would view as hidden deceits practiced to gain an unfair advantage. Could you provide an example for our understanding?”
Lazy as a hunger-satiated cougar, Baron Zaggry allowed his lips to curve in a smile. “Perhaps,” he teased, pausing for a moment. “As you, and the good people of your realm, must realize, our ‘intrigues’ have evolved along with the complexity of our culture, and have become multi-entangled layered webs used for a variety of reasons and purposes. For love, for carnal appetite, for the gain of coin, as a way to broker power and favor. Indeed, for any impassioned motivation. Of course, that would include revenge and spying. And sun-obviously, and too often, greed.”
Baron Zaggry shifted, propping his booted foot on top of the resting stool with a feral elegant ease. “However, I have not provided an example, have I? Perhaps, you will further define what you wish to know, Emissary Gjylish.” Friendly as a cougar expecting dinner, he smiled once again.
“Of course, Baron Vettura, I will define what I and my people wish to know.” Her eyes glowed, tiny bolts of emerald lightning streaking toward the pupils of her eyes. “There are updates several times each day on your media venues about the immense amount of wagering in the gambling entertainment salons. There is also speculation about the intrigues which are playing out. Why do so many gamble on who will triumph in the Braverth. Will it be your slave lover, Lady Sheridan. Or, will Lord Gawaith prevail? And what manner of intrigue do you play out?”
Baron Zaggry allowed his steepled fingers to lace and unlace leisurely before he answered. “My slave lover, Lady Sheridan, rides to victory in the Braverth, to win the security of our horse lands. And to triumph as warrioress. It is that simple, and that complicated in our world. Certainly, various intrigues swirl around us like the lavish gown skirts of our women swirl, as they splendidly and gracefully dance during our evening entertainments.
“Lord Gawaith has been my slave lover’s devoted adversary in the horse sports where they compete, for several riding seasons now. He carries an obsession of spirit, the prideful need to defeat Lady Sheridan by his superior skill and by his personal mastery of the horse war game, Braverth.
“There are many who believe my slave lover suffers a depletion of her physical prowess...given my carnal appetite for her. They would also believe she could not be as warrioress-determined in her ability to triumph, since she has yielded to me as her master.
Baron Zaggry raised one dark auburn brow, then continued, “Your example follows, Emissary Gjylish of the esteemed Vhesphia World. Is my interview with you part of an intrigue I deftly play against my enemies? Are my words, concerning my slave lover, mere deception? Or are they the truth as some would observe and believe?
“What is intrigue?” Baron Zaggry brought the fierce intensity of his gaze to bear on the Emissary, who leaned forward as if she was about to learn the end of a media-novel mystery. “What is not? Shadow or the mirror reflection upon a blue crystalline lake...and would I wager against Lady Sheridan’s victory in the Braverth, simply to gain another high-coin sum?” Baron Zaggry smiled like a hunt-triumphant cougar, who rested after dining on meaty succulent flesh. “There are some who believe my nature to be so ruthless toward collecting a fortune, I would use my slave lover in such a betraying manner.”
Baron Zaggry slowly leaned forward, the lithe power of a cougar. “What do you believe?” He casually un-propped his foot.” What is deception? What is not? What wager would you lay down, Emissary Gjylish?”~~~~~~
Do you have a question for Baron Vettura? Present your query in the comment section, and the Baron will answer as his schedule allows.
Or join Baron Zaggry and Lady Sheridan in the World of the Blue Pearl Moon
All Shades of Blue Paradise [World of the Blue Pearl Moon, Book I] ~ available from Siren-BookStrand Publishing ~
~~~~~~
May the March winds blow for you and not against you...
Savanna
Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance ~
Tuesday, March 2, 2010
Werewolf Romance ~ A LONDON WEREWOLF IN AMERICA
Guaranteed smiles and giggles... maybe even howling chuckles... yep, rove those baby blues over the excerpt below.
And!
Guess what, werewolf lovers, Pat Cunningham just earned FIVE Delightful Divas and a Recommended Read by Autumn! For her previous release, BEST OF BREED.
A LONDON WEREWOLF IN AMERICA
by Pat Cunningham
Blurb ~
British werewolf Roderick Chase has been sent to Philadelphia to get married. Instead he finds himself the target of werecoyote assassins. His only hope: Darinda Lowell, a witch with a low tolerance level for arrogant alpha males. She agrees to act as his bodyguard and use her magic to find out who’s trying to kill him.
There’s no way the pushy wolf and the vegetarian witch can get along, or so Darinda tells herself. However, love tends to work a spell even a witch can’t ignore. Can she claim the wolf who’s won her heart, or will she lose him to a murderer?
"I like comedies. I like murder mysteries. I like paranormals. I like an evenly-matched hero and heroine engaged in snappy dialogue. And I just love me an English accent spoken in a deep sexy voice. I had a blast writing this book. Hope you have as much fun reading it." ~Pat
A BookStrand Mainstream Romance
~~~
EXCERPT ~ A LONDON WEREWOLF IN AMERICA
She set her shoulder bag on the dresser and began to pull vials and drawstring packets out of it. The smug seeped out of Alfie’s face. “Hey. That better not be poison. I got rights.”
“Don’t worry. I’m brewing a truth potion. One good sniff and you’ll tell me everything and be happy to do it.” She smiled. “I would have gotten far less with the touch, but you had to insist on the hard way.”
“Hey. Hey, wait a minute—”
“Too late.” Darinda took a small clay bowl from her bag and poured the contents of a vial into it. Green liquid pooled in the bowl. Into this she sprinkled ground herbs from a pouch. A soft, smoky mist arose from the bowl, thick with the smell of mint. “You’d better wait in the hall,” she told Roderick. “This can have a powerful effect on people with sensitive noses.” She beamed evilly at Alfie. “Just imagine what it can do to a were.”
His imagination was working just fine. She could tell from his worried posture and the way he flinched from the bowl. She swirled the liquid in the bowl, and its steamy billow increased. Anyone other than the spell caster who caught a whiff of it would be compelled to speak the truth. She extended the bowl toward Alfie and watched his eyes glaze over.
And only then became aware of Roderick hovering far too closely over her shoulder. “I said wait in the hall. This stuff’s dangerous.”
“And leave you alone in the room with that?” He thrust his chin at Alfie. His voice slurred over the consonants, and his eyes didn’t seem to be focusing. “He’d kill you the second I turned my back. Fine mate I’d be if I allowed that to happen.”
“Whoa. She’s your mate?” Alfie said in the same fuzzy voice. “Dog, your pack’s standards have fallen.”
“Roderick,” Darinda said, “please wait in the hall. I’ll be all right. He can’t—”
Roderick shouldered her aside to confront Alfie. “You will not speak in that tone to my mate.”
“Holy scat, dog. She’s not even shifter. Don’t you teabags have rules against messing with the lower orders or something?”
“Bugger the rules. Bugger the pack. I never even wanted control of the pack to begin with. Bloody treacherous low-rankers fawning all over you, right before they go for your throat. Rip out your guts soon as look at you. Forget the upper ranks.” He snarled. “Lift your leg too high and it’s taken for threat. You can’t relax for a second. And this is your family. Think what outsiders are like.”
“Dog, that’s rough.”
“This trip is the first chance I’ve had to breathe in years. You are so fortunate,” he said to Darinda. “Free to be whatever you want, mate with whomever you please. I love this country.”
“I’m touched.” She tried to steer him toward the door and away from the misty cloud hovering over the bed. “Roderick, please—”
“I always wanted to be a cowboy,” he said dreamily. “Out in the wide open spaces with no damned pack trailing after you. Like that Eastwood fellow. He’s one of us, you know. A wolf. If he isn’t, he bloody well should be.”
“No way,” Alfie said. “He’s a coyote. Gotta be. He’s got a sense of humor. No wolf on the planet has a sense of humor. That’s why you mutts are doomed.”
“This is all fascinating,” Darinda said, tugging at Roderick’s arm. “However—”
“It would never work,” Roderick said. “The cowboy thing. Horses don’t like me. The predator-prey dynamic.” His wistful smile disappeared, and he seized Darinda’s shoulders. “You like me, don’t you?”
“Um—”
“I wouldn’t blame you if you hated me. You’ve put your life on hold and yourself at risk to protect me, and I’ve been such a perfect brute. I’m a—what’s the Yank word?”
“Putz?” Alfie suggested.
“I was going to say ‘ass,’ but I suppose yours works. Darinda, you’re a lovely, brave, patient woman who’s been kinder to me than I deserve. I’ve never met a wolf I wanted to stand at my side more than you.”
“Roderick you don’t know what you’re saying.”
“The hell I don’t. I’m in love with you.”
“Whoa, dog,” Alfie said.
Darinda got as far as “Rod—” before his mouth closed over hers and smothered all objections. She couldn’t stop her own response. She’d been attuned to him from the beginning, and the emotions that flooded her now through the contact washed away any objections. The female in her surrendered to instinct and rose up to match the male. The cards never lied. This arrogant, overbearing, meat-eating wolf was her perfect mate.
But not here, not now, not under these circumstances. Reluctantly she broke the kiss. “We’ll talk about this later,” she promised him.
“I get her when you’re done,” Alfie said. Roderick snarled, and Alfie recoiled. “Hey. Just asking.”
Darinda turned Roderick’s head to face her. “Do you really love me?”
“Of course I love you. You’re the only she I want.”
“Would you do something for me?”
“Anything, darling.”
“Open that window, stick your head out and take deep breaths.”
~~~~~~
AVAILABLE: Tuesday, March 2nd ~ http://bookstrand.com/a-london-werewolf-in-america ~
HAPPY WEREWOLF HOWLING~
Savanna
Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance ~
Monday, February 22, 2010
Western Erotic Romance ~ A STAGED AFFAIR by Gem Sivad
Romance lovers, this is Gem Sivad’s first book with publisher, Siren-BookStrand. Her other western erotic romance titles are with Liquid Silver Books.
In the mood for one hot-as-fire, give-me-more read, then this is book for you.
A STAGED AFFAIR
by Gem Sivad
Blurb ~
Anna Fuller is a Shakespearean actress touring Texas when rancher, King Colton spots the red-haired vixen playing Lady Macbeth. One look and King’s in love.
King isn’t much for romance and doesn’t know what it will take to make Anna content, but if it takes money, he’s willing to spend a fortune trying.
Anna only wants King’s love, but he’s so busy fighting land-grabbers and taking care of ranch business, he doesn’t see what his lover offers. When Anna leaves him, King moves heaven, hell, and half of Texas too, trying to reclaim Anna before he loses her for good. Sex is the weapon of choice when these two face off in a sheet-scorching showdown.
~~~
SEXCERPT ~
She’d been without King too long. She missed him terribly at first. But then there were other things, important business, to distract her from the want. By the end of her lonely seclusion, she almost convinced herself the madness of desire she remembered had never been that strong.
Now here he was, proving her self-delusion wrong. Once again, her body was liquid heat reaching for satisfaction only he could provide. He was crazy hot for her, too, but at the same time determined to take charge of her life.
I will never let that happen again.
“You have no right.” She got that far with her declaration when he lifted his head and glared at her. She admired the rough planes of his face and adored his gruff assertion at the same time she bristled against his claim.
“The hell you say. I have every right. You’re mine.”
He was furious. She knew he would be. She told Tommy she would just sneak back into town and leave again the back way so King would never know she’d come and gone.
Of course, she planned every possible scenario that might happen if and when they did meet. She had a lot of friends in town, but he had a lot of money, power, and when he needed it, charm. He was still spouting his I am God nonsense, and she listened with half interest.
“Where have you been? Don’t feed me a line of bullshit. I already know where you haven’t been—here, with me, where you’re supposed to be.”
He was merciless in his torture, bringing her to the quivering pinnacle of orgasm before he paused to ask each question. Anna’s belly, womb, pussy, ass, and lungs coiled tighter each time he promised, teased, withdrew, until her body threatened to burst into flames.
Then he pushed her thighs wide open and buried his face again in her folds. She needed it.She needed him now. Every nerve ending in her body screamed. She panted an explanation. “The show closed, we followed the drum and went to Fort Laramie. I was there.”
“Lie number two.” He looked up and intoned righteously as though he was God Almighty. “I sent the same man to Laramie when the trail pointed that way.”
He stopped to nip her thigh. His tongue teased a trail of sensation across the sensitive crease of her leg, almost close enough to touch her pearl.
“It was a slow season…” She couldn’t keep the desperation from her voice. “We lost the props, the show wagon broke an axle, we were stranded…”
“Lies, lies, lies.”
As usual he was so busy pointing out her sins she outwitted him. She swiveled her hips and swiped her clit against his moving lips, and it was enough. Prickles of ecstasy fired her body.
“Yesss,” she screamed triumphantly and started an orgasm that rolled from the tips of her well manicured toes to her lustrous red hair. Even her earlobes seemed to pulse and vibrate.
“This isn’t over,” King Colton promised, raising to his knees to slam his cock so deep in her clenching pussy he fulfilled her request. She could taste him, and he was the most exotically delicious dish she would ever have. She reminded herself of that as she savored deep, partaking of her last meal.
She adored him and she’d never get over him, and that was the right way to feel about the love of her life. Just like Desdemona, Cleopatra, and Juliet, she was destined to have a tragic love, but she’d be damned if she’d end up an old woman living out of a stage suitcase.
So, this was it. He pulled her head against his shoulder to stifle her ecstatic shriek even as his chest rumbled with the laughter she loved to call out of him. “Christ, girl, they’ll think I’m killing you.”
Purchase at ~ http://sirenpublishing.com/gemsivad ~
~~~~~~
Gem’s western-sensual fabulous cover art is from cover artist is Amanda Kelsey ~ http://razzdazzdesign.com ~
Gem Sivad has received outstanding reviews for INTIMATE STRANGERS and WOLF’S TENDER. She’s fast becoming a leading author in Western Erotic Romance for good reasons. Her stories are gritty, realistic about those historical times. However, that feeling of sweep-you-away romance prevails.
Gem also realistically portrays the relationship between a man and a woman. Yet, love always wins out, the hearts of her hero and heroine exposed to each other, in that Happily Ever After we all want and crave.
Oh, and talk about scorching passion... yeehaw! Saddle up for the long hot ride.
You can find Gem Sivad at ~ http://gemsivad.wordpress.com/blog ~
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
The Ugly Truth
By Pat Cunningham
I really meant to write a funny story. C’mon, look at the plot: a werewolf enters herself in a dog show as a joke, and wins. How can you take that seriously?
But a funny thing happened, and it wasn’t the story. I started exploring my werewolf’s motives. In order to enter a dog show, she’d have to look more dog than wolf. And if she didn’t look that much like a wolf, what did the other wolves think of her? We all know how the reindeer felt about Rudolph, and all he had was the nose.
That’s when I realized: far from being the mischievous, let’s-stick-it-to-the-monkeys shifter I’d been planning to write about, Adele Chase was an insecure young woman with low self-esteem and serious body-image issues, so desperate for others’ approval she was willing to trot around a show ring on the end of a leash for the sake of human applause. If her own kind wouldn’t give her what she craved, she’d go find it elsewhere. Even, as the plot turned out, risk her life to get it.
It must be hell, growing up as a girl these days. Not that it was ever easy, but geez. All that advertising, TV and magazines and now on the Net, bombarding girls with images of unattainable physical perfection. I know Tyra Banks is out there telling viewers her looks are the result of make-up, lighting, professional stylists and a healthy dose of the airbrush, but is anybody listening to her? Or do they just look at the pictures? Their attitudes are shaped by what they see all around them, and what those images tell them. I thought the women’s movement was supposed to free us from the idea that a girl’s worth depends on her appearance. The statistics on teenage eating disorders, depression and even suicide tend to say otherwise. Don’t even get me started on beauty pageants for 5-year-olds. Ye godz.
A lot of ugliness of different varieties crept into this story. The hero despises his own ethnic background and it’s twisted him up inside. The villain is into racial purity and has taken his sick beliefs to a violent extreme. Fortunately, there are bright spots. Adele has the emotional support of her brother, and wins the hero’s heart with her courage as well as her appearance. She, in turn, helps him accept his heritage. The bad guy gets what’s coming to him. Of course, this is fiction. Real life doesn’t always get the happy ending. Ask the 95-pound woman who thinks she’s fat.
The dogs have it right. They’re not the ones obsessing over their looks. They leave that to us. As long as the food dish is full and they can sleep on the couch, they’re happy. There’s a lesson in there somewhere.
The next story will be funny. I promise.
~~~
BEST OF BREEDBLURB ~
It started out as a joke: a werewolf entering a dog show. Adele Chase has always believed herself ugly, with her doggish wolf form and non-shifter blue eyes. But in the show ring she’s discovered a place where she can be beautiful.
Now, poised on the brink of her biggest win, nothing can deter her-–not even the presence of Bowie, the notorious werewolf hunter. He’s stalking the show in search of a werewolf and found what he thinks is a woman. Adele realizes he could be her destined mate–-or, if he uncovers her secret, her death.
With Best in Show within her reach, she plays a dangerous game with a man who might either love her or kill her…with neither aware of the enemy who’s out to destroy them both.
~~~
Now available from BookStrand ~ http://bookstrand.com/best-of-breed ~
Plus, take a look at COYOTE MOON by Pat Cunningham ~ Can a half-werewolf woman, unaware of her wolf nature, come to love the WereCoyote determined to free her wild side and make her his mate? ~ http://bookstrand.com/product-coyotemoon-14959-330.html ~
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
What Scares Your Shifters?
WHAT SCARES YOUR SHIFTERS?
By Pat Cunningham
VAMPIRE – Well, that’s a no-brainer. Sunlight. Crosses, garlic, holy water, even stakes, we can deal with that. You can come back from those. Sunlight, though, that’s pretty final. It’s like that line from Terminator 2: you get caught out after dawn, and anybody not wearing two million sunblock is gonna have a really bad day. We can move around when it’s cloudy, but that’s chancy. If you’re a weatherman, you’d better get the forecast right or we’re coming after you. Well, those of us who are left.
WOLF – Our biggest fear has to be the safety of the pack. Guns, diseases, threats from humans, protecting your mate, challenges from other wolves – we worry constantly. Look at me, I’m shedding just thinking about it. My personal fear is leg traps. My uncle lost a hand in one. When I go to a park or the State Game Lands, I stay on the paths. Better safe than sorry.
CAT – Werewolves, the big bullies. They’re always chasing me. I end up climbing a tree, which is a mistake because I’m afraid of heights and I always get stuck on a branch. One time I was so scared I shifted up there. There I was, stark naked, stuck in a tree and crying my eyes out, all because of some nasty wolf. What? Oh, the fire department got me down. Six companies showed up. They were all so nice about it. And cute. I like firemen.
HORSE – Spurs. Spurs and bits. I don’t go in for pain. Some of us are into the whole S&M scene – saddles, whips, reins, tight cinches – but not me. I don’t ride that trail. I like a rider with a good seat and a firm hand who’ll give me a rubdown afterwards. Now that’s heaven.
JAGUAR – What do we fear? Pah! We are jaguars. We fear nothing. We are kings of the jungle. I will admit to some unease regarding snakes. The way they slither, that legless undulation, it is – creepy? Yes, that is the word. But fear, no. We need fear nothing with these claws. Ah, little gatita, I see you admiring my claws. Come here, come sit beside me. I will drive the big bad wolves away. You like the firemen? Smile, and I will be on fire for you. You make such a lovely purr.
COYOTE – I was dating this girl, another coyote, she knew positions even I never heard of, but anyway, everything was cool until one day she starts using words like “marriage” and “puppies” and telling me I should get a job. I couldn’t get out of there fast enough. Scariest thing that ever happened to me.
GIRAFFE – Power lines. You can get tangled up in those buggers for days.
So, what are your shifters afraid of? Let’s hear from them.
~~~~~~
COYOTE MOONBlurb ~
It's that time of the month -- the full moon -- when Willy Alvarez's moods go wonky and her dreams fill up with wolves. A time for hungers she doesn't dare fulfill because they lead to violence. She's resigned herself to a manless life, then Cody Gray arrives.
Cody is cute, funny, charming, and a werecoyote. His nose knows what Willy doesn't: she's half werewolf. He's convinced this repressed half-human she-wolf is his perfect mate. Now he just has to convince her. And quick, because her long-lost pack has learned about her existence, and they've come to town to claim her...
~~~
COYOTE MOON by Pat Cunningham at ~ http://bookstrand.com/product-coyotemoon-14959-330.html ~ Pat’s book has received several top reviews.
~~~~~~
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
The Romance of Trail and Seneca
Tomorrow, Thursday, September 24th, is the release day for my erotic romance novel, STALLION OF ASH AND FLAME, from Siren-BookStrand.
Yep, I’m galloping with excitement.
If you can’t tell by the title and cover, my hero, Trail, is a stallion shapeshifter. The story is also told from his viewpoint because he arrived before my mind’s eye more than ready to talk.
This is a story I fell in love with by degrees. For me, as a writer, often it’s magical love at first sight with no lessening of that feeling as I pen away. In this case, the more I’ve worked with Trail and Seneca and on the plot, the more my love grew. This happened throughout the writerly process, including the final line edits.
~~~
Since I haven’t gotten a clear picture of what excerpts to use for STALLION, I’ll just start at the beginning of the story, an r-rated excerpt I think.
First, here’s the blurb ~
Drojovv Zyan of the V’Trailuc Realm is a man-stallion of ash and flame on a mission to save his world’s crucial Earth portal from the fires ravaging the National Forest surrounding it. Pretending to be the tracker, Trail, he settles in a small southeastern Arizona town. When he gets an eyeful of the beautiful ranch owner, Seneca, he stud lusts after the Earth human, a woman he’s not supposed to take as his Mate.
Trail leaves her alone until her brother is in a bad motorcycle accident and she needs a hired hand. Soon both of them are threatened by a whole horde of enemies. At all costs Trail must protect her. His world depends on it, her world depends on it. And his heart comes to depend on it.
~~~~~~
Chapter One ~ Her Hired Hand
Southeast corner of Arizona, Spring 2009
Trail rapped his knuckles on the splintery wood of the ranch house’s front door and made a mental note to replace it. The instant Seneca moved to answer, he gathered her fragrance into his nostrils, then let the blazing rose and gingery spice of her womanly flesh course through him. He suppressed his urge to breathe in her scent more fully. He’d decided to help her and, at the same time, make his cover on Earth look real.
Trail had admired Seneca from afar, mainly at the Saturday night dances in town. Despite the raging bulge of his cock every time he did catch sight of her, he knew she was not a woman to give a man a one-night tumble, so he’d always respected her aloofness toward him.
Even now, his balls ached to give her a mounting she’d always remember. One that would make her call out his name, his real name, Drojovv. One that would make her summon him when he ran as stallion, the way of lovers in his realm.
His was an equine shifter world more advanced in technology than present-day Earth. Since the time of Deluge, after the catastrophic sinking of Atlantis, Earth and his planet-world had been connected by a portal, many of them now. The first portal had been created by renegade Atlantean scientists looking for other worlds to inhabit.
Down, stud, he commanded himself. You’re only here to help a mare in need.
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.
Stop, he warned himself. Stop thinking like that.
“Well, if Mandy thinks you’re okay, it might work. Are you two an item now? Last I knew she was pining hard for Rick.”
Trail watched her become aware she chatted friendly-like with him. She halted, searching his face. Dominant little mare, he thought, with that stubborn chin and that fiery gleam in her eyes. Yep, she’d nip his withers as soon as look at him.
“Nope, we’re just coffee-drinking buddies. Mandy is still chasin’ after Rick. My bet is she’ll get him roped real soon.”
Seneca nodded, her loose hair taking on a life of its own. He swallowed, watching the long smooth strands of coppery red dance in a lazy rhythm.
~~~~~~
Have a Wonderful and Wild Autumn...
May your most romantic dreams come true...
Savanna
Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance ~
~~~
STALLION OF ASH AND FLAME ~ coming from Siren-BookStrand, September 24th ~ 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 ~
Thursday, July 30, 2009
Running with the Pack
By Pat Cunningham
INTRO ~ Hi Happily Ever After animal lovers, I thought a lot of you might like a peek at the realities of wolf pack life. Plus, Pat’s understanding and research is great information for all of us romance authors who run on the shapeshifting wild side.
Pic from ~ http://naturescrusaders.wordpress.com/2009/03/07/ ~
I’ve always been an animal lover. As a dog person, I picked werewolves as my supernatural being of choice when I moved into paranormal romances. Fortunately I live in an area with a unique research opportunity – the Speedwell Forge Wolf Sanctuary of PA, right up the road from me, so to speak, in Brickerville, Pennsylvania. The Sanctuary consists of 25 acres and is home to 40-odd wolves, divided into packs/family groups, each with its own roomy run. I stopped in recently for one of their weekend tours and picked up some info and anecdotes to give my howling heroes and their world some verisimilitude. As I discovered, even with wolves truth can be weirder than fiction.
First off, the biggest wolf in the pack doesn’t necessarily become alpha. The sanctuary has a family of four eastern timber wolves, all zoo born. Because the pup was bottle fed and received better nourishment growing up than his parents, he’s the largest of the group. That doesn’t mean Pop can’t make Junior submit when he’s of a mind to. Attitude more than size is what makes an alpha wolf. The smaller wolf dominates the larger because he’s got the drive and the mindset. The Dog Whisperer is right – it’s all psychological. The muscular six-foot werewolf might find himself taking orders, and having to like it, from his 5’2” mate. That could make for some funny scenes.
We’ve all got this picture of alpha wolves clawing their way to the top of the pack and ruling with an iron paw. That ain’t necessarily so. The sanctuary’s pack of thirteen gray wolves is led by Murphy, possibly the laziest wolf on the planet, according to his keepers. Murphy does nothing and makes no effort to maintain his leadership. The pack follows him because they like him and they want to. His brother Winston could probably kick his butt and take over the pack, but he just isn’t interested. As beta, Winston does the heavy lifting in pack administration. He keeps the others at bay while the alphas feed, then determines who eats next and in what order. If your alpha hero’s smart, he’ll have a loyal beta to watch his back so he can focus on running the show.
Another myth blown out of the water is wolf monogamy and the idea of the alpha male in charge at mating time. When a gal’s in season, the keeper said, the boys take notice, regardless of her rank or theirs. “She gets up, they get up. She walks off, they follow. She stops, they stop. It’s hysterical to watch.” She, not the males, decides who’s going to father her litter. She picks the wolf she deems most likely to sire the strongest pups. If that turns out to be the alpha male, and it probably will, so be it.
As long as there’s no alpha female on hand, the pups might even make it. Alpha females tend to kill other females’ litters, both to secure their own pups’ survival and to demoralize possible rivals, to keep them too depressed to challenge her authority. If your story needs an antagonist, you need look no further than the literal queen bitch determined to hang onto her position. And hide your kids.
At the other end of the hierarchy exist the omegas. You can’t really call it living for them because they have to take everyone’s crap. The omega in the gray wolf group was easy to spot: the tips of her ears had been chewed off and the end of her tail was missing. The keepers had to move her into a separate pen or the pack might eventually have killed her. She shared her new home with two other wolves and seemed a lot less stressed. Got any werewolf omegas? Might they be harboring resentment and plotting against your alpha hero?
Finally, take this one for what it’s worth. Glacier is a big handsome gray wolf who comes from a showbiz family (his grandfather played Two Socks in “Dances With Wolves”). He’s also something of a diva. Glacier has been known to go off and sulk if he isn’t the center of attention. His last girlfriend had to be removed from the pen; Glacier bit her because he was jealous that the keepers were petting her more than him. Glacier shares his pen with Chipper, a diminutive male who’s suitably submissive enough to satisfy this prima donna alpha. “We think he’s gay,” the keeper said.
And on that note, I’m heading back to the keyboard. Happy writing!
~~~~~~
Coyote Moon
Blurb ~
It's that time of the month -- the full moon -- when Willy Alvarez's moods go wonky and her dreams fill up with wolves. A time for hungers she doesn't dare fulfill because they lead to violence. She's resigned herself to a manless life, then Cody Gray arrives.
Cody is cute, funny, charming, and a werecoyote. His nose knows what Willy doesn't: she's half werewolf. He's convinced this repressed half-human she-wolf is his perfect mate. Now he just has to convince her. And quick, because her long-lost pack has learned about her existence, and they've come to town to claim her...
COYOTE MOON by Pat Cunningham at ~ http://bookstrand.com/product-coyotemoon-14959-330.html ~ NOW full-moon rising on Siren-BookStrand’s bestseller list.
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
Long Road to Romance and Murder
As authors we’re used to enduring the long bumpy roads that, hopefully, lead to success. The long road of writing our romance novels, then finding that right publisher, of going through the editing process... you get the picture, especially if you’ve traveled, or are traveling down those long writerly roads. Yes, often, being published is *partly* a matter of sheer dogged persistence.
It’s been one dang long *roller coaster* journey from the point of inception to arriving at this moment. My American Title IV manuscript is now in print. When the idea for MURDER BY HAIR SPRAY IN GARDENIA, NEW ATLANTIS hit my brain like a lightning bolt... yes, that’s the best description I can come up with... it was supposed to be just an erotic romance novella. You know, the heroine and hero have to stay together at Gardenia’s only hotel in order to catch the Hair Spray Killer.
Yeah, right. My Muse can be naughtily deceptive.
New Atlantis came alive as a character immediately. Larger than that, Sheriff Kalypso Sun Wing and Federal Agent Zryphus Dolen Vasquoz were much more emotionally complex and rich in character than I’d originally envisioned. Plus, the Hair Spray Killer wasn’t about to be captured that easily. Not only that, the Killer’s puppet strings were being pulled by bigger enemies determined to conquer New Atlantis.
Thus, was born a novel that is over a hundred thousand words and is the first book in the New Atlantis Trilogy.
Every road I’ve traveled with this futuristic novel has been a long one and definitely *hang onto your hats* bumpy. Yet, the long road to romance and murder has also been emotionally rewarding and satisfying at a deep level. Yep, right down to my soul.
Here’s the promo ~
Murder by Hair Spray in Gardenia, New Atlantis - IN PRINT
So, if you're into a futuristic look at the risen land of Atlantis, a mystery with lots of action... and how about a love story where the battle of sexes incites extreme passion... this might be the erotic romance novel for you.
Murder by Hair Spray in Gardenia, New Atlantis
~ This story spun and formed in my imagination, turbulent as a sea storm ~ then sprang forth onto paper and onto my computer screen like Poseidon’s powerful emergence from the ocean, during a time lost to history when gods and goddesses ruled the world and the heavens above.
Gardenia, New Atlantis... The future begins here...
The story of beginning a new world on a legendary land...
The beginning of a love Sheriff Kalypso Sun Wing never believed was possible for her, especially not after a hundred years on Earth...
The beginning of a love Federal Agent Zryphus has arrived on Earth to find, only he didn’t plan on remaining in a land where women are in charge...
First Line:
The evil cloud of hair spray dominated the air in guest room 666 at Gardenia’s only motel, The Eternal Magnolia – so named because it was surrounded by a park-like acre of Magnolia trees, saved despite the cataclysmic weather, wars and land changes on Earth.
Heroine and Hero:
Sheriff Kalypso Sun Wing is 100 years old in the year 2051. A rebel at heart, an artist by soul, she survived the sterile fifties’ suburbs, the revolutionary turbulence of the sixties, the disco guru seventies. After the suicide of the man she loved, Kalypso barely survived the designer eighties, the fast-forward nineties. In the 21st century Mother Nature rebelled. Kalypso battled for freedom. She never knew why she survived. Until Atlantis rose. Once again.
Agent Zryphus Dolen Vasquoz chose an enforcement career on Earth for several reasons – his fascination with primitive worlds, to make his own way outside the family heritage, to keep official watch for his own Worlds – and, Zerculeon men find Earth women highly desirable, like the gods of old they rival in strength. Since there aren’t enough Zerculeon women, it’s a match made in intergalactic heaven. Especially when Zryphus gets a real eyeful of the Sheriff.
~~~~~~
Excerpt ~
The evil cloud of hair spray dominated the air in guest room 666 at Gardenia's only motel, The Eternal Magnolia—so named because it was surrounded by a park-like acre of Magnolia trees, saved despite the cataclysmic weather, wars and land changes on Earth.
"Reminds me of seventh grade, after gym class. When I avoided the noxious fumes of spurting hair spray," Sheriff Kalypso spoke to her deputy.
"We sure can't go in yet. Till some of this evil stuff airs out," Deputy Anna agreed. Holding up her Video Multi, she stood in doorway, scanning the room before they entered.
"Lucy," Sheriff Kalypso yelled, her voice aimed toward Gardenia's only enforcement van, parked near the bottom of the steps. "You got International linked up yet?"
"The operator's comin' on shortly," Deputy Lucy hollered up.
"Track down the Agent-slash-agency that's in charge of the Hair Spray Serial Killer, will ya? Anna, you finished scanning yet?"
"Almost, Sheriff. Large number of odor pixels installing now for later analysis at the lab. Looks like two males so far. One she entertained, sexual wise, that is—nothin' kinky I can pick up, though."
"Too bad. The Tribune needs a sensational story," Sheriff Kalypso half-joked, half-mocked.
"Murder by hair spray isn't kinky enough?" Anna drawled. "Hell's little bells, Marzzie would dance one of her jerky bar jigs on top of her news table."
"We'll give her whatever exclusive we can. But I gotta feeling the Federals are gonna request some private investigation time. Unless it's a copycat? Other than who she was with, any of our people been in the room since our victim occupied?"
"Naw—only with her and trace genes from before. Elsie's cleaning crew looks like."
"When exactly did Elsie's assistant click on the room camera?"
"Barb got concerned when the guest, now victim, didn't ring down for breakfast. She'd been here for an old-fashioned week, and always rang at eight. Waffles with fruit, rice milk and dark chocolate souffle. Barb clicked on at about eight thirty. Took her a time to find the body on the floor. Medical monitor never chimed emergency. She did a med scan immediately, then called us."
"Yeah, our poor victim is stiff as a board with hair to match, apparently." Sheriff Kalypso carefully stepped into the guest room, gazing around for any detail the Video Multi couldn't retrieve. "Go ahead, deputy. Video her body as is."
"This hair spray stench is demonic, I swear. One can of the stuff is by the body, Sheriff. Looks new. But this nasty crap hasn't been made for several decades." With meticulous precision the deputy scanned the face-down victim, inch by inch. "She was gone in sixty seconds. Death by hair spray asphyxiation."
"Any chance of a blast from the past? That stuff is highly flammable. I remember reading it on the back of the cans."
"Don't light a candle for her," Anna suggested, her tone pure irony. "She was definitely here to have a private good time. Multiple sex partners. Most of them male. Earth human or hybrid human." Anna inhaled sharply. "Oh my Goddess! She was with child. Twelve days since conception."
"Still viable?" Sheriff Kalypso moved toward the corpse."Checking status."
The hair spray victim was a small slender woman with mother-of-pearl skin. She wore an early sixties Jackie O blue shift and pumps, with the hair style to match.
"Shellac for the hair," Sheriff Kalypso commented. Kneeling, she sat back on her haunches, observing the body. "Shiny and not one strand has moved."
"We have a two hour window, if we can round up the proper womb incubator."
"Sheriff," Lucy hailed from the doorway. "Head Agent Vasquoz will be here by portal, to quote 'soon as I'm shaved and down a cup of coffee'."
"I take it Vasquoz is male and didn't mean his legs. Lucy, get Dr. Victoria up here now. We need her expertise. Tell her we have a viable twelve day pregnancy. Then go meet 'Head Agent Vasquoz' for me."
"Sure as shootin' fish, Sheriff." Deputy Lucy athletically ran down the steps, already signaling Dr. Victoria with her Handheld.
"You know Georgia's been seeking a viable fetus. She's in the mood for motherhood again. And she's the best." Deputy Anna completed her corpse scan. Leaning back on her calves, she studied the results as they appeared on screen.
"She is the best. I didn't know she was seeking again. Though, I hate to put her through the process if there's another claim on file. You know how heart-vulnerable she is."
"Yep, she is. Let's see what Dr. Victoria recommends. Sad, haven't had a murder in over a year. And the last case was a boundary dumped body...an escaped rapist."
"Yeah, nothing to mourn there, except his soul and his family."
Sheriff Kalypso frowned. "Our Jackie O's real identity hasn't even popped yet. We may not own the time to find out who she is."
"Sheriff," Anna crooned with excitement, and absolute surprise, "the fetus is Venutian hybrid, female. Someone wanted our victim pregnant."
"Yeah, the bio father wanted her pregnant. Or it never would have happened. Check the International missing partner list. Venutians are extremely protective."
"Checking. Unless it was done by nefarious deception."
"Absolutely on target, Anna, thanks. The perpetrators could have stolen the semen, treated it with the right bio hormones, then inseminated her."
"Whoever she is. Her ID still hasn't popped. She was taking whole-food pregnancy nutrients."
"Why would a woman who knows she's pregnant, using natural nutrition, even come close to decades-old hair spray?" Sheriff Kalypso stood, studying the woman's body for a moment. "I'm looking around for any form of ID."
"The Vid Multi picked up a personal bag in the bottom chest drawer."
Watching her step, Sheriff Kalypso moved to the small bureau. "It's not just her hair. She's entirely coated with the stuff. But lightly, like an artist's touch."
"Like a death portrait. Great moons away. Some poor artist type gone round the bend for whatever good reason. And there are a lot of good reasons in this world."
"Conform or it's time for a psychological lobotomy. Could be. Or it could be the killer gene was stimulated, like during the Conflicts."
"The super soldiers, bred to be killers, and hyped up on adrenaline. You had to blast their heads off to stop them," Deputy Anna recalled.
"Sheriff," Dr. Victoria hailed from the doorway. "How do I help?"
"Stay there. Anna will show you her results. We'll go from there."
"Sheriff," Anna summoned. "Got an ID on one of the males in here. Brody...Lavern's son."
"Crap and snap! He's only sixteen. Ring Lavern. Have her bring him to the constabulary office. I'll get Woodson to talk with them. He can get the full story out of most anyone, the easy way, with no harsh chemicals involved. Woodson, that you?" Sheriff Kalypso spoke into her wrist vid unit.
"Yeah, Sheriff. What's going on at the motel? The town's buzzin' like a beehive."
"Keep it on suppression, deputy. Nasty scene. Need you to work your dialogue magic with Brody. He was here. Might have shared some saliva and seed. Keep it friendly for now. No use stirring up a hornets nest of feelings yet."
"Will accomplish, beautiful. Let you know if I discover what you need."
"Thanks, Woodson. Later." Sheriff Kalypso slid on her working gloves, then used one finger to open the bottom drawer, just in case the vid scan hadn't picked up all the evidence. The bag perfectly matched the woman's pumps. Since it was unlatched, she gingerly opened it wider. She could see makeup, lipstick, and grooming accessories, all early 60's period reproductions. Then, as she leaned over peering deeper inside, she spied the piece of folded up paper, a rarity these days. Especially because it didn't look like a love letter reproduction, a trendy sentiment currently.
Nope, it was plain white note paper, the kind the Sheriff knew about. She'd had a recent birthday, turning one hundred years old. As a shared joke, one hundred cupcakes had been delivered to her from the people of New Atlantis, each with its own tiny candle. Actually, the pastel candles had been miniature fireworks' sparklers. She'd lit them all, one at a time, at the impromptu party her friends had insisted on.
"Anna, you and Victoria decide on anything yet?"
"We need to turn her over, Sheriff, for removal. Location of the fetus," Dr. Victoria explained. "The vitals indicate survival in a temp incubator will be for thirty minutes, only."
"Anna, did you talk to Dr. Victoria about Georgia's possible availability?"
"We have Georgia on contact now," Anna answered. "She's willing. Understands the hybrid genetics. Says she'll be a surrogate if necessary. But does want the child."
"Let me check what's on this piece of paper, in case there's ID info." Sheriff Kalypso unfolded the strip of paper, which had been precisely creased four times. There was only one handwritten word or name, Beatrice. "Beatrice," Sheriff Kalypso spoke. "That's it, all that's written here. Go ahead, remove the fetus for Georgia."
"Sheriff." The man's voice commanded first, and announced his presence second. "Sheriff Kalypso Sun Wing."
"Yeah, that's me." Turning, Kalypso's gaze gave no quarter, hard as diamonds on the outsider. "Agent...?" Dang it to hang, he was a tall and broad drink of water. She'd expected the usual tight-ass wimp, with grim lips and eyes that were mirrors, reflecting nothing but the orders the been given. No, this man burned with sheer vitality. His gaze assessed, a damn force of nature. She'd bet if she struck a match and tossed it toward his eyes, they would sizzle like her birthday candles, then explode at his will. Yep, he was definitely a whole load of nano dynamite, unlit.
"Agent Zryphus Dolen Vasquoz," he answered. "Give me your evidence retrieval. I'll take over from here."
Audible gasps burst from Anna and Dr. Victoria at the man's patriarchal and patronizing tone.
"No, you won't, Agent Vasquoz. You're here at my invitation. Only. You follow my rules or you don't get to play 'Find the Hair Spray Killer'. Do you understand?"
"Wowzi Powzie," Deputy Anna whispered, watching her vid screen light up with the sparks flying between the Sheriff and the outsider Agent.
"It's a Federal Union case, Sheriff. I have priority investigation." The Agent's gravelly deep voice filled the entire room.
"You have nothing, Agent. Unless I say so. You can turn around, hit the portal. Or you can cooperate. You'll have full access. Anna will give you all she's retrieved so far. If you want, I'll even act friendly, let you 'analyze' this bag more closely." Sheriff Kalypso approached, a lioness with no fear. "I'll even sweeten the pot, Agent Vasquoz—let you do a quick exam of the body before we save the fetus. As they used to say, deal or no deal?"
"Whirlwind in the room," Deputy Anna whispered to Victoria, who still watched her vid screen.
"Deal. For now, Sheriff." Focusing his gaze like a cannon laser, the Agent straightened his over-large shoulders, his latent power obvious.
"Pull anything against my authority, Agent Vasquoz, and I guarantee you won't like the results. Deputy, feed your vid evidence to the Agent's data base, will you, please?"
Once Anna stood, he handed his data vid to her without looking. His gaze relentless, Agent Vasquez followed the Sheriff's arm wave to the corpse. Moving easily in the small confines of the room, despite his size, he knelt with deliberate care, scrutinizing every detail of the body.
Sheriff Kalypso couldn't deny his concentration was impressive. She watched him turn the victim over with gentle precision.
Awed, her heart tripping rapidly, Sheriff Kalypso moved closer. "Even her face resembles Jackie O."
"How do you know?" Agent Vasquoz demanded, not looking up.
"I was born in 1951. Check out your history data base, Agent."
"Call me Zryphus."
He stood, gradually moving around the corpse. His gaze never deviated until he halted, and faced Sheriff Kalypso. Immediately, she nodded toward Anna and Dr. Victoria. Kneeling, they worked as a team, rescuing the fetus.
"Got an ID on her, Zryphus?" Kalypso ignored his intense study of her.
"I know who she is. Vrilesa Corzinski. We've been looking for her ever since she disappeared. She fits the Hair Spray Killer's profile. Before she discovered her ability to bear children easily, she was an elite prostitute. Baby-making is a premium moneymaker in some circles."
"Who reported her 'disappearance'?"
"Her brother. He became suspicious of an ongoing vid relationship she had. He was worried when she just packed, and went on vacation, and wouldn't confide where. He claimed it was unusual behavior for her, even when she was pregnant."
"Then there would be parents for the fetus."
"No one on official record. She may have just conceived, and decided to keep the pregnancy."
"Twelve days ago. A Venutian hybrid is the father. That doesn't add up to a 'let's have sex fun' conceived child. Unless you know something I don't."
"Point accepted, Sheriff. May I call you Kalypso?"
With the fetus safe, Anna grinned and checked her vid. Sure as the sky, the Agent's voice suddenly registered as masculine velvet.
Kalypso hesitated. Dang and wolf's fang, was he putting the moves on her? "Why not? We try to stay friendly around here."
"Fake charm or real charm?" Dr. Victoria whispered.
"He's for real," Anna spoke near her ear.
"Now that I have new leads, Kalypso, I'll research later, discover if there are waiting parents. Where's the victim's handbag?"
"Down in that drawer. I used gloves, and had a look inside. Found this folded piece of paper at the bottom." Sheriff Kalypso handed over the evidence. "If the handwriting doesn't belong to our victim, your resource base is larger than ours. I expect full knowledge of whatever you find out."
"Mutual giving. It's a deal," the Agent purred, his meaning obviously beyond investigative cooperation. He gazed down at the unfolded paper, as if it could be the key to solving his case.
"Mean anything to you?" Sheriff Kalypso finally prompted.
"No. Not any connection to a 'Beatrice' that I've come across."
"We have a volunteer surrogate for the fetus." She arched a brow. "Do you object?"
"I can't offer a surrogate soon enough. No, Kalypso, I don't object. What autopsy methods do you have here?"
"Dr. Victoria, let me know how insertion goes, will you?"
"Sure, Sheriff. On my way."
"We have machine autopsy. Holo program or real cutting. Our town butcher knows her way around the human body. She worked forensics in Chicago before the permanent break up of the United States. You got a preference?"
"Start with Holo. From my examination it looks like 'the Hair Spray Killer'. Not a copycat."
"Anna, give a holler to Deputy Lucy. You two take the victim to autopsy after you've scanned her clothing, and all her personal items. Once the Agent and I have satisfied each other on the collection of evidence, I'll check in."
"Sure as fire, Sheriff. Sorry, bad joke. No sparks allowed in here with all these fumes. Heck, the corpse could still explode from all that hair spray covering her. We'll keep the ride real cool."
"Lost several of our victims that way, Kalypso. One static spark before we arrived, the body burned," Zryphus seriously stated. "Leave the hair spray can here. I need to do an analysis."
"How many victims so far?"
"Twelve. If this proves out, it will be unlucky thirteen. Or lucky thirteen. I have a feeling you're a very persistent woman."
"Truth, justice. That's our way here, Zryphus. Play it that way, we'll get along. Once Deputy Anna finishes scanning, you can take her data, or follow in her footsteps, and get your own." She eyed him, wondering if he was a wolf dressed in wolf's clothing, as he appeared. There was no pretense of wearing sheep's clothing that she observed. "Do you usually work alone?"
"Back up team for forensics, investigation. Yes, I work alone. No partner. You're the exception, Kalypso. Let's investigate the contents of her handbag together."
"From what I can tell. the makeup and lipstick cases look like replicas of the early sixties era. We have lab verification and analysis, if you want use of it."
"Let's see what we've got first." Agent Zryphus carefully dumped out the handbag's contents. After scanning each item, he professionally murmured, "Just her prints and bio cells. Take a look at the lipstick. Is it the color she's wearing?"
"Wouldn't your scan data verify that?"
"Wrongly phrased. You're the period expert. I wanted your impression of how real the lipstick and the makeup itself are to your recollection."
Sheriff Kalypso uncapped the lipstick. "It's been ages, but it looks real. Smells real. Not the same color she's wearing."
"The color of lipstick has been the same on each victim. Never found a container."
"How could you tell on the burned victims?"
"Enough residue remained for holo reconstruction. Take a look inside the other cases," he suggested.
"Why the nice treatment, Zryphus? I was dirt under your shoes when you first arrived." Sheriff Kalypso did some burning of her own while she picked up the mascara wand. "Black, black. Just like I remember."
"Sheriff," Deputy Anna called out, "finished the personal item scan. Got the body ready for transport. We're on our way. I'll leave the door open. Keep airing the room out."
"Thanks, Anna. You know where I am." Kalypso picked up a compact case, solid rich elegance in design. Opening it, she studied the pasty heavy covering. "Looks real. But I never used this stuff. Couldn't stand it. I used the sheer version they came out with, when I used makeup. Except when I acted in college theater. We used the heavy stuff because of the lighting. You haven't answered my question, Zryphus."
"Bluntly, Kalypso...I want you in my bed."
Placing the compact case down delicately, Kalypso absorbed the shock. "No, I don't think so," she slowly enunciated each word.
"Do you have a lover?" Zryphus handed her the powder case.
"None of your business, as they used to say. Looks real. Mind if I test it with my finger?"
"Please. You don't have a lover. Neither do I."
"Probably because you're married or in a committed partnership. Or you just ended an affair. Something like that. No!" Kalypso shifted gears. "Feels real, smells real. Are you aware of a company, or maybe a small business, that creates these replica products?"
"Three, to be exact. I can't tell where these originated. I'm a one woman man, Kalypso. You'd have all my attention."
"No thanks. I politely decline. Eyelash curler. Never used one. They always looked so barbaric. Hmmm, brow tweezers. Unfortunately, I tried this a few times. Way too painful."
"I'll convince you. What's this?"
"Eyebrow darkening powder. No, you won't. I don't like men when it comes to relationship crap. Perhaps you don't know much about our social structure here. Women rule."
"I dominate in bed. In our passionate relationship."
"No. Make me say 'no' again and something ugly will occur to you. Eye shadows. Definitely not the colors she had on. Let me see the blush."
"Ever been married, Kalypso? Which one is the blush?"
"I'm not answering. This case." Snatching it up, Kalypso lifted the lid. "Looks like the same color she had on. But we'll have to test. What's in the white satin bag?"
"Rings, three of them. They scan out at the same time period." He answered as if they were merely investigating together.
"Those have to be worth a fortune. To an investor who can pay."
"Approximately four ounces of platinum on the investor's market."
"Inscriptions?" she asked.
"Jim loves Mary forever on this one."
"Wonder if they're family heirlooms?"
"Intuitively, how do you read it, Kalypso?"
"Our Jackie O look-alike, was searching for something. I don't know if these rings are part of what she was looking for. Or maybe they were just an insurance policy."
"Insurance policy?"
"Like 'diamonds are a girl's best friend'. But since they're period, maybe they hold more sentimental value. Maybe a way of life she wanted to create for herself. The sixties Camelot of the Kennedy's, which wasn't, of course. But it was certainly a lovely shining hope at the time. Until the day certain powers-that-be at the CIA killed him, President Kennedy."
"Diamonds are a girl's best friend?"
"Come on, how old are you? Don't you ever watch vintage movies?"
"I'm 150 in Earth years. I have inhabited Earth for thirty-two years. Vintage suspense and crime movies. Dinner later? I'll bring diamonds."
Well hell and do tell, that explained his bull-massive size. He wasn't Earth human. "I'm ignoring you, Mr. Space Man. Except for a temporary professional relationship. What next?"
"We check out her clothes. You tell me your favorite kinky sex acts."
Kalypso decided a scowl in his direction wasn't worth the energy. "Only if you tell me why your behavior is so reprehensible toward women. Her clothing is mostly hanging in the closet, except for her underwear."
"What is reprehensible about sexually pleasing you? Several Jackie O outfits, I believe. You tell me."
"I don't want you 'sexually pleasing' me. That's what is reprehensible. Yes, three more. Travel clothing, as if she arrived by auto-bus rather than portal. English horse riding outfit circa late twentieth century, early twenty-first. Yoga exercise garments. Wow! negligees. Too bad you missed out on those vintage movies. These are early sixties styles, too. Boas, shoes to match everything. Find any stray hair that doesn't belong to her?"
"These aren't the clothes she wears with a sexual partner. Let's check the drawers. Yes, you do. You want me to do all those fantasy carnal acts you play out when you orgasm."
Used to commanding men during the Conflicts, Kalypso didn't flinch. "Meet me at our training gym. I'll show you what I want. To mash you like potatoes, into a begging pulp." She opened the first drawer. "Oh, my Goddess...she came equipped to play out fantasies. You should have asked her about favorite kinky sex acts."
"See what you mean. No new evidence recovered on the vid. Same males that were in bed with her. Two women. One-on-one, far as I can tell by the evidence. Actively used, however. Maybe enthusiastically would be a better description."
"Must be the type of woman whose hormones leap to insatiable when she's pregnant."
"Promise not to make you pregnant, Kalypso. If that's a worry for you."
"Why would I trust you? Next drawer?"
"You open. I'll vid any evidence. You'll learn to trust me."
"You'll learn to trust my incredible dislike for you." Sliding the drawer open, Kalypso gasped, poignantly. "Baby clothes, early sixties. She was planning on keeping the baby. At least, that's the way it appears."
"It does," Zryphus gently uttered. "Maybe she wanted to raise her child here."
"It's happened before. A mother who wants to change her life, start over. She decides to live in New Atlantis. Maybe she was searching for a life partner, also. By the way, we've got one of our own people coming down to the office for an interview. He's only sixteen, though."
"Why didn't you inform me earlier?" Zryphus growled.
"Why should I? It wasn't the priority. I've got my best person handling the interview. Male, if that makes you happy. He'll let me know immediately, if anything vital to the case plays out."
"This male want you as a lover?"
"Geez Louise, you're a bore."
"You won't say that after I kiss you. Bathroom, let's check it out."
"Picture my knee plowing into your male jewels." Kalypso pictured it with great satisfaction as they moved toward the bathroom door.
"You've got the most exquisite lush ass. Doggie lust at least once a week."
Kalypso whirled, feeling her face ignite to red. Her rage barely suppressed, she demanded, "What woman has ever responded to that degrading approach? Never mind!" She whirled back toward the bathroom, and forced her fists to unclench. "Obviously they have or you wouldn't be using it on me."
"You're the first. Believe it or not. What's that overwhelming smell?"
Pausing, she inhaled deeply, just to make certain. "It's Chanel #5. A popular perfume during that era. Personally I never liked it." Wishing she could jab her knuckles into his throat, a shot that would knock him off his big fat feet, she snapped, "Of course, I don't believe it. Men usually lie. Why would you be an exception to that rule?"
"What was your favorite perfume during that era?"
He'd spoken as if they politely conversed. Figuring she'd be rid of the monstrously framed irritant soon, she answered, "Emeraude it was called. Don't like perfumes now. Too synthetic still. Even with the revolution toward eco life styles. Look at all this replica stuff. Electric hair curlers, ancient hair dryer for heaven's sake. I wonder if she was trying to live the way she remembered her mother or grandmother? She showed up about half my age on the bio data. Do you know her birth date?"
"April 26, 2000. Five life path."
"Yeah. Lookin' for adventure. Never the bored girl. But she needed roots somewhere, if she was planning on keeping her daughter."
"Your town, Gardenia, and even your settlement area here on New Atlantis, remains isolated. Was it a new life or was she running from something?"
"If she was running, she should have kept on going. Maybe she could have outrun the Hair Spray Killer. The Hair Spray Killer, male or female, or both sets of genes, do you know?"
"All indication is male. Although the bio isn't conclusive. One male's presence looms larger than the others in here. A primary lover, do you think?"
"Client? Whatever. We don't tell people how to live their sex lives here. Keep it away from the children. Keep it private from those who don't want participation—and you can do whatever consenting adults do. Should be right up your preference alley." Kalypso knife-inserted her voice. "Get enough bio on the primary male for ID?"
"He's a Venutian hybrid. Maybe the baby's father? Nothing pops on immediate ID. Sending the bio to world search." He glanced at her professionally. "Got a local bio bank of all your people?"
"No. Just those who want ID for safety purposes. That's how we knew it was Brody, and his age, sixteen. You won't put his bio in your system." She stressed won't. "If you do, which we will discover, I'll make certain your systems are fried. All of them. In fact, you will not put any of our people in your federal system or any system—without permission. Do you understand?"
"Sure, gorgeous. You got sovereignty. Curious though, how are you planning to southern fry our systems?"
"Intention. Ever get a group together...a little concentration? A whole lot of intention. The system fries up like catfish. And if that doesn't do it...well, we always have a backup plan. Which I won't divulge." Kalypso half-turned away, before her itching kneecap enjoyed some exercise between the tree trunks that were his thighs. "Where's her underwear drawer?"
"Where's her underwear?"
"Good question, crazy man. She was wearing a bra, panties and hose circa the period. Showed up on the vid scan. I'll check all the drawers in here. You check her luggage, since there was none in the chest of drawers."
"Rather have you squeeze past me, our bodies in mutual contact...gorgeous." Zryphus grinned in that overbearing male, highly irritating way.
"Deviant. Why don't you advertise? There are women here who would 'appreciate' that particular lack in your character. 'Male Deviant. For sexual hire and doggie style pleasure. Top dog position required'," Kalypso sarcastically crooned, and shrugged one shoulder.
"Ruff, ruff, baby." He spun out of the bathroom before Kalypso could sock his jaw with her balled-up fist.
"I'd probably break my hand on his square rock-hard jaw," she muttered, then leaned over, and pulled open the first drawer. Lotions, nail polishes, and a manicure set were neatly arranged. "It would be worth it," she groused.
"I heard that, gorgeous."
"I hope so. If you know what's good for ya." Kalypso opened the next drawer. Anti-aging health supplements and creams lined the bottom. Most of them she was familiar with, and used.
After years of deliberate misdirection, and lies by the Global Elite-run corporations, the truth had finally come into full raging spotlight. There were three basic corrections that could be made naturally, which would effectively reverse aging back to a peak state of youth and beauty. A truth that had come to 'cosmic light', in part, because of Contact. Contact with the ancient Humans, who had returned to Earth as visitors. Many of them had departed before the destruction of the Atlantean empire, one more story of biblical proportions on the billions-year old Earth.
Deciding the fantasy-playing Jackie O may have hung her 'unmentionables' in the shower, Kalypso slid open the shower door. Only a pair of red lace thongs hung from the shower head. "Darling," she called out as if she was in a Doris Day/Rock Hudson movie. "In here...with your equipment, please."
"Our first sex act in the shower, darling?" His low gravelly voice seized her.
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. She grabbed a breath to calm herself. "Before I touch the door handle, do you want a second close-up scan?"
"Better scanning-safe than sorry. You've got me slightly off my game, gorgeous. Or I would have thought of that." He strode to the front door, watching her pivot to one side, then fold her arms tightly against him. She tapped her foot impatiently, while he thoroughly ran his super vid over the entire surface. "The handle, it's been intentionally cleaned, on the inside and outside of the room."
"Cleaned with what? Top dog detective," she sniped.
"It reads out as old-fashioned Windex. Effective enough."
"Defeated by Windex. Great holy cow!"
"I see your Deputy Anna scanned the direct area around the room outside."
"Yep, when we arrived. As we walked up the steps to the room. The camera feed from the motel is already in process at the office. The little amount there is...we don't spy on our people here!" Kalypso heatedly defended at his hard glance. "Do you want to view it, or not?"
"Anything to stay next to you, gorgeous. The profile on your red lace gal is coming up." He flashed a small cock-of-the-walk grin at her.
~~~~~~
Happy Summer Reading...
May your most romantic dreams come true...
Savanna
Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance ~
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~~~ 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. Rising from Siren-BookStrand ~ the future begins here... ~ http://bookstrand.com/authors/savannakougar ~ IN PRINT ~ available at Barnes and Noble & Amazon.
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