Tuesday, September 8, 2020

Steam Hop With His Good Angel #MFRWsteam #MFRWOrg




Welcome, everyone. Featured today is a futuristic fantasy I wrote for Winter Solstice 2012. 

WHEN A GOOD ANGEL FALLS was published on October 23, 2008, and written a couple of years before. I used the societal trends at the time, mostly heard on Coast to Coast am radio, to project and create this novel.  

Yes, Sedona and Volcano's love story is an erotic romance. I have provided several excerpts because it gives more insight into the story. The last one is the SEXCERPT. 




Image of Sedona, the heroine, before she fell to Earth, and incarnated as human. 

WHEN A GOOD ANGEL FALLS 

~~~ Where angels fear to tread, 2012 Earth ~~~  

World weary and worn out, the 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 she dare trust the mysterious stranger suddenly before her? 

Handsome as sin and all in black, he emerges out of the darkness. 

Sedona wonders if the stranger on a superspeed motorcycle is her savior from the brutal endtimes. 

Or, is he a roving cult member of the New World Order, hunting his next blood sacrifice? 

*** 

It’s only a few days before Winter Solstice, December 21, 2012 ~ The end of the Mayan Calendar. 

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

He also knows Sedona is about to find out Christmas miracles still exist. 

[Angelic Fantasy Erotic Romance]  



When a Good Angel Falls
Fantasy Set during Winter Solstice 2012 When the Nazerazzis Rule America 


2012, the end of the Mayan Calendar          

PG excerpt:

“Have a holly jolly Christmas, it’s the best time of the year,” Sedona badly sang, just to dryly entertain herself. “Especially if you’re seasonally depressed and have no vitamin D,” she sarcastically stretched. “Oh by golly, 2012‘s not Christmas holly, oh by golly, the endtimes aren’t jolly. Is our salvation just unholy folly?”

Sedona drove along the old one-lane highway southwest of what used to be Flagstaff, Arizona. Once the catastrophes lined up like the breadlines, it had become a FEMA /military base of operation. She had been fortunate to bypass the checkpoints without being stopped, and hauled off to the closest camp, then forced into some ungodly way of existence. Death was always preferable. And few her age cared anymore. No reason, no reason, at all.

As usual she wondered about the great mystery. Why? Why am I still alive? In these unbelievably ugly times, with evil alive and well everywhere. Is it the grace of Goddess?

It could only be grace. Only some strange miraculous grace that she still lived. The why of it? Sedona possessed no earthly clue.

True, she could summon psychic abilities as naturally as she breathed, in certain crucial instances, especially healing. Whenever the soft glow of ‘knowing’ occurred inside her, she could simply touch a person or an animal, and the healing would instantly take place. Yet, she couldn’t just heal anyone who needed it. And certainly, her abilities didn’t compare to other well-known Psychic/Healers.

Still, she’d never fit in, not anywhere. And talk about choosing the ‘road less traveled’, she could be the iconic poster person on that book cover. Not that real books were available these days, except on the dangerous black market.

Briefly, Sedona shook her head, wanting to get rid of the angst over her survival. In truth, she envied all those who died, their spirits traveling to the other side. Human or animal, it didn’t matter. Sedona envied them. Especially when she saw all the corpses, common now, and literally piled up the world over. She blessed them all to heaven and desperately wished, aching-wished she could join them.

But she never had. Not yet.

Sighing, Sedona watched the impressive light show in the night sky. All around her asteroids arced constantly, some flashing out before they struck. Most of the stars couldn’t be seen, hidden by the ash haze of Mexico’s erupting volcanoes, hellish explosions she’d watched on an illegal TV feed. While hard on her lungs and eyes, the ash made the spy satellites useless, a victory in her book, since it impeded the net tight control of Homeland Security.

The steady rain of asteroids for the last thirty-five days had been strangely beautiful, yet deadly to large land areas on Earth, and sometimes to remaining population centers. Yet, it also prevented the Homeland Hordes from rounding up the desired or eliminating the undesired. Slowly enough not to trigger the watch beams, her old early ‘90s van clumped along. Five years ago Sedona had eliminated every electronic device, and replaced the engine with an antique which had been converted to use water as fuel, although now, clean water was scarce in most places.

No electronics, no herd-control implanted chips, and a lot less chance of being caught, then charged with a crime against the state. Any crime, it didn’t matter anymore. Jaywalking could be considered a crime against the state, even a possible terrorist act.

Recently a man had been convicted as a terrorist for halting the progress of an  enforcement vehicle, and sent away to the most grueling work station, simply because he jaywalked. That was life inside what some now called and accepted as the North American Union.

Sedona didn’t accept it. Had never accepted it. She had neutralized every chip. But she couldn’t fight as a New Rebel either, even though she had trained the last five years to a high fitness level.

Sixty-one years of age, she no longer had the stamina needed for that noble sacrifice. The New Rebels were always on the run, or attacking. Nor did she have the tech expertise, the brilliance to manipulate the big brother chips and the Darth Vader web systems.

Having no family left, and not much of anything left, with her land stolen by the police state since it still produced crops, Sedona helped out wherever she could. And merely existed. Now she drove to a friend’s hidden sanctuary, invited when they’d managed to talk over a shortwave radio.

Sedona grimaced at the irony of driving through Sedona, her namesake. Now deserted, the new age haven had been brutally wiped out by the New World Order’s bio-terrorism. Yep, the message had been cruelly delivered to all those who believed in sacred-creating an enlightened global order.

In 2012 fear reigned. For most everyone.

Seeing no one, she drove in silence. Even having an old radio on, if a signal could be snagged, upped her chances of being caught. “Run silent, run deep,” she quoted, ignoring the eery chill in her gut.

“Fear rules everything. Okay, maybe not for those lucky enough to be at Maya Toga Days,” she mumbled, half-elated, half-repulsed by the idea. “Maybe a big fat miracle or two. The great solar flare of enlightenment courtesy of sun cycle 24.” She took a breath, musing. “I don’t suppose they have Christmas tree lights on the pyramid. Serpent lights, yeah, that’s the ticket. The ticket to paradise. The tree of life. Let’s all jump for joy. It’s a new kind of holly jolly Christmas. The garden of Eden returned, where the feathered serpents are Santas, delivering toys.”

“Oh no.” Despair settled in her stomach like a rock. Her van slowed, clunking offensive loud noises. “It’s a good day to die. Good night to die.”

Her own whisper knifed her insides, as she guided the rolling van toward the crumbling edge of the neglected highway. “Maybe the coyotes will get me first. Rather feed the wildlife,” she muttered.
~~~~~~~

Excerpt #2 -

Before Sedona could take more than a few steps, the cycle rider appeared, a whispering hum of sound. No lights, the cycle and the rider’s garments blended in with the night. Ten feet in front of her, the rider seemed to wait for her to approach. Obviously, this was no Homeland Nazi. She would have been on the ground, tasered, and probably dead. Certainly twitching in agony.

Tensed to escape, she watched the rider remove his or her helmet. His helmet. He looked young from what she could see. Not a whole helluva lot, since the darkness ruled all.

“Get on,” he invited. “Looks like you need a friendly lift.”

Good Lord, his voice melted her insides. The movie star caliber of Tom Cruise, only better. Or what used to be considered movie star sexy. Not anymore. You might as well have Hitler speaking English in the current horror offering of movies to the mind-numbed public.

“I could be dangerous,” she answered, trying to decide—not like there were many options. Him or Homeland, or run toward land she couldn’t really see worth an effing damn. She took a few steps toward him. If he was going to kill her, maybe it would be quick.

“The Nazerazzi are more dangerous,” he offered, his tone practical. “And on their way. Enough room behind me for you and your bag.”

Sedona sighed loudly, and decisively moved toward him. “Old Spice,” she awe-muttered. “Where did you find that?”

“Dad’s stuff.”

Reaching back, he slid open the compartment, and Sedona stuffed her bag inside. “Goddess!” she warned. The searching lights of Homeland Security Hummers blazed in the distance. Instantly, he closed the compartment, and she swung behind him.

“Tight,” he commanded as she wrapped her arms around his waist.

“Rebel?” she asked, just before he peeled out, then veered away from the advancing headlight’s phalanx. Sedona squeezed her eyes closed, feeling the wind whip over her. When she opened them, they flew over the land. And off the highway. No wheels beneath them.

Cool as rare cucumbers, she thought. Rich rebel?

Behind them she heard the drone trackers, the slight whistling. If she screamed to him about their presence, that would only make it worse, and make tracking them easier. Suddenly they soared through a narrow rock arch. And she heard the drones smash like giant wasps. Relieved, she sang inside with the temporary victory.

Slowing his cycle, her maybe rescuer executed a ninety degree turn to the left, then they streaked through an immense canyon. Sedona only knew because he beamed his lights, a dim wide-sweeping radiance. Slowing again, he slid them through a small cave entrance. Quickly they cruised a winding irregular path through cave tunnels.

Fear began in the pit of her stomach. But it was too late now. Was she about to be blood sacrificed to one of the New World Order cults? Their underground compounds snaked throughout the continent.

Her blood freezing at the thought, she also knew part of her didn’t care. Goddess help her, she was so tired, and so horribly worn out. The long sleep of death, who would care? Or, waking up on the other side to loved ones seemed more than welcome, just given her probable future. Too bad and so sad, in a bizarre way. From what she could feel clinging to him, the young man would be as movie star sexy as his voice.

Mmm-mmm, he did feel hunk-delicious.

Sacrificed by an evil could-be movie star, to the rise of the New World Order. There was something hideously ironic about that. But she couldn’t think clearly or cleverly what. Just too bad this wasn’t one of her fantasies. Where he starred as the good guy who wanted her body, wanted her real damn bad. Like Rhett carrying Scarlett up the stairs, bad. Wanted her body as it had once been, and hotly, passionately ravished her. Yeah, too bad.

Everything was too bad. The whole world was too bad, now. She tried to forget about her life, what had been. She tried to forget everyone, everything she’d lost. God, when she remembered, the horror of it all ripped through her, unbearable excruciating pain. Sedona wondered if the blood sacrifice would be as painful.

Most days she wondered how she even stood up, and kept going. Maybe her life, everything she’d endured, would be worth it, if she could save the world. Maybe worth it. Sedona had her doubts. Still, how often had she wished she could save the world, and truly help people? The number of stars in the sky? Oh, how she’d tried her best and with her whole heart. Now, she was just too darn old.

They stopped inside a small empty cavern. Warm, it was luminous enough to see. The cycle settled perfectly, and remained upright.

“We’ll walk the rest of way. Are you okay?” He removed his helmet and turned back to her when she released his waist.

“What are you going to do with me?” She leaned back, stared at his features, handsome and adorable. Almost magical.

“Protect you, angelic one.”

Sedona blinked, his voice inflection utterly unfamiliar to her, not to mention the kindness of his tone. Swinging her leg over, she slid off the cycle. “You don’t want me for some sort of sick blood sacrifice?”

“I am not your enemy, Sedona.” He gleamed a brief smile, then easily dismounted. Opening the compartment, he took out her bag.

She stepped back, and kept staring. “How do you know my name. Or the name I now use?”

“I am on assignment. My sacred duty is to protect you.”

He lifted her bag beneath one arm, then faced her. Reaching out, he removed her hood, his touch extreme gentleness.

“Why?” she stammered, as much from his touch, as by his extraordinarily beautiful eyes. Purple midnight, silvered. He wasn’t merely Earth human. Whoever, whatever he was?

“The future of Earth depends upon it.”

*************


NOTE: This will be unusual, given the nature of my characters, and the endtimes. Sedona is sixty-one years of age, and Volcano is what is called a carnal cherub meaning his kind has been designed to divinely operate in the three-dimensional realm. 

Sexcerpt ~

Excerpt #3: When a Good Angel Falls

Set-up: Sedona, my heroine, hasn't been with a man for a long time, and is very sensitive about her age and looks. But even she can't resist a carnal cherub. And she can’t resist being erotically playful in a way she’s never done before.

Stunned, she could only enjoy his hands blatantly rubbing her breasts over the pink robe. 


“Wiggle for me,” he naughty, naughty whispered.


“You’ll only want to use it,” she breathy whispered, wiggling. Wiggling on his growing cherub staff. It seemed like the right thing to do, even if she knew it wasn’t.

“I’ll make it fun,” he naughtier whispered. His fingers snatched at her nipples, and plucked.

“Turn me on.” She’d meant to remind him of her age. Instead, the ‘70s sexual mantra expressed what she felt. Goddess! Was she ever ‘turned on’.

“Light my fire stick,” he very naughty encouraged.

She wiggled like she imagined a hoyden of ye olden days would. “Such a brutish thing, you bad boy.” She reached back, sliding her fingers into his hair, ravenous for the sensual feel of him.

Volcano opened her robe, and stroked his hands over her breasts. He pinched her rigid nipples rhythmically. The feel of her sumptuous breasts, her sumptuous bottom rubbing on him stoked him to lusty heat. Ferocious cosmic heat.

“It will be fun. I promise,” he lordly persuaded. He rocked his hips beneath her, against the hedonistic rubbing of her bottom. “My staff in your sweet flaming rose.”

“How are you going to make putting that big brute in me fun?” She wiggled more vigorously. “Mmm, I’m feeling wonderfully indecent.”

“You’ve never acted this way before, have you?” he lordly growled in her ear. His nails bit into her nipples, demanding an answer.

“No. No, you make me all torrid and wicked inside.” Boldly wiggling on his cock, her hand caressed wildly through his hair.

“Woman!” Volcano grabbed her haunches, and squeezed. Then he slid his hands on her thighs over the robe. Possessively he stroked while he roughly nibbled her neck. “I am going to shove your robe up over your delectable rump, woman. Bare your privates, tickle your curls with my brazen brute, first.” He growled his claim against the sensitive cord of her neck.

“Oooh,” she crooned, grinding her hips on him. “Let me feel. Let me feel the tip of that big brute. You aren’t going to shove it in me now, are you? It feels way too enormous.”

“Tickling, woman.” Volcano finger-summoned one of the ottomans before them, desperate for her wet curls against his cock’s head. The smell of her rose musk desire tightened his loins to rutting need. “Tickling first, then I am going to shove it in, only in the most fun and pleasurable way.”

“No, no, please. It’s way too big,” she squealed, not resisting when he placed her before him on the ottoman. “No, please, only tickling,” she begged, not resisting as he caressed her robe up, and bared her beautiful privates framed by flaming red curls.

“My red rose beauty.” He stroked her with his voice, then bared his light-throbbing privates. Gently he brushed her curls with his cock’s head. Up and down. Up and down, his brute storm-burning for her. “Tell me how I make you feel, woman,” he lordly commanded, then tightened his grip on her full hips.

“Oh, ooooh, impossibly wanton. Yes, more,” she crooned to him as his cock stroked up and down, more firmly pressed against her curls. “Oh, I feel so hot and wet. Yes, please, please, more.”

“You want more, woman? My brute wants more of you.” He shoved against her rose-voluptuous lips, his cock in delicious torment.

“More, yes. Just a little more tickling. Just a little deeper, oh, yes, yes, tickle my petals. Ooooh, your tip feels so good, so big on my petals, so slippery and huge. Ooooh, yes, better and better. What a talented brute you have.”

Merciful Eros! She was driving him tornadic, whirling delirious for her. Volcano rubbed his cock’s head on her rosebud, slowly at first, then faster and faster.

“Yes,” she whimpered. Thrusting her bottom more to him, she displayed her rose swollen privates even more. “Oooh, tickle my naughty bud. Tickle and tickle.” She moaned, coursing fire through his blood.

“Here, woman?” He thrust his cock close to her sheath’s welcome.

“Please…let that enormous brute touch my naughty little opening. Oh, yes, yes! Oooh, what very lovely tickling. Yes, shove it in, just a little, please, please, oooh, how big your tip feels. I want it. I want your brute. Just a little, shove it, goddess, yes!”

Volcano thrust his cock inside his angel woman, inside her naughty little rosefire opening. His loins had never twisted this storm harshly before. He groaned. He’d never felt so physical. His brute pulsed, then glowed torturously hot for her. “Tell me, woman.”

“Oh, yes, yes, blazing pleasure, tingles of pleasure all through me. Oooh yes, yes, your tip is so bold. Too bold.” She squealed passionately as he pumped his cock a bit deeper. “Oh, such gentle thrusting, yes, yes. And tickling, more tickling, yes. Oh, I want your brute tickling me more.” As he shoved his cock deeper inside her silky rose, she cried out with bliss. “More. I want more of your enormous brute. Deeper, just a little deeper. Pummel me. Please, pummel.”

Volcano shoved deeper, then thrust harder into his woman. He groaned, primal and fierce as a cosmic tempest for her. Vigorously, he stroked his cock inside her sheath, inside her flaming silk.

“Yes. Use that big brute on me.” His Sedona could not move as he pummeled her. “I feel so heavenly fierce, yes.” She could only let him have his way with her. For a long time.

“Deeper,” she whisper-begged. “Your brute, force it in deeper, please.”

Volcano storm-burned, his brute red-hot radiant as he lunged deeply into her. She squeezed his cock unmercifully, a silken glove and an infinite rapture. His woman whimpered keenly as he drove his cock inside her. Then she opened herself, letting him have her as only a woman allows a man, a man she wants.

A man she carnal desires and wants with her heart.


~~~~~~ 


Sedona & Volcano invite you to read their love story ~
WHEN A GOOD ANGEL FALLS ~ Where angels fear to tread, 2012 Earth...Is a stranger on a superspeed motorcycle her savior from the brutal endtimes?  ~ available from Siren-BookStrand  ~ http://bookstrand.com/when-a-good-angel-falls ~ http://bookstrand.com/savanna-kougar ~ Ebook & Print 

~~~ EBOOK & IN PRINT ~~~ a former #1 on Siren-BookStrand’s bestseller list 

Monday, September 7, 2020

Masquerade Fun in Wolf Peak Territory


Originally posted at SHAPESHIFTER SEDUCTION.

 Happy Labor Day Howls and Yowls, ShapeShifter Lovers! 

So, a bit of authoress commentary-news first. I am deeply disappointed that, once again, my ability to write has been shut down. Here's one tiny example of what happens. 
Okay, I am clearing out a corner in a room I use for storage to fix the ceiling. The ancient tiles have loosened there. What happens to hinder me? Stop all progress?
I'm letting my pets in, the mat is black and I don't see it clear enough--a dying wasp. I step on it, feel the pricking sting. Yeah, I'm only wearing socks because my feet stay much healthier that way. Off comes the sock confirming I have been stung, but the penetration is not as bad as it could have been. Since I'm deathly allergic to bee stings, I immediately take the natural anti-allergy formula I've successfully used many times before to save my life--yep, over the years. The problem is though, I've just eaten so it won't get into my system all that fast. Inspired, I fill up a sock with baking soda to find out if that will help. 
Then, I hope my reaction won't be too bad. There were a couple of hours of reaction, shortness of breath mostly, and hyperventilating... my foot swelled up, but not badly. Happily, the pain subsided fairly quickly. 
No, I can't go to a hospital for treatment because I'm deathly allergic to their prescription drugs--having what is sometimes called chemical sensitivity. Realistically, anything they do would most likely kill me. Thankfully, everything worked out, though, and I'm fine. 
Anyway, bottom line: problem wise, I am putting out way too many fires, and have way too many bizarre interruptions like that wasp sting to get much done. Consistently, that is. 
Thus again, no time, no energy to write. 
My apologies, I know hearing this over and over must get very old. However, as I've been saying lately, truth is truth. 

Also,  I find this rather fascinating. Of late, I have been craving GOODNESS--as if it's a particular food. You know, like ice cream. This is a deep insatiable craving. Now mind you, I love GOODNESS--someone with a big heart, for example. Or, the Romance Novel's vaunted Happy Ending. 
In today's world this is probably not surprising, this weird craving, given our current sad, mask-wearing situation--given our volatile, burn-everything good down mob madness happening in some areas. 
Because of the shutdown so many of us here, and around the world, are suffering bigtime, terribly. Sadness envelops the planet at this time. 

Yes, our planetary society is in the Great Unraveling. 

Of course, in Wolf Peak Territory no one is wearing a stop-the-virus mask, except as a joke. Howls and yowls, much hilarity has ensued among the Peak's population. Yep, making fun of the outsiders has become a favorite pastime. 

And now, a new Masquerade Ball has been planned, as a fun antidote to the reality of the year 2020. This masked evening festivity will be happening at the Midnight Stardust Supperclub--first featured in HER MIDNIGHT STARDUST COWBOYS. 

After all, as I've explained before, Shifters, Supernaturals, all those living in the Peak have no pandemic worries. This includes the humans, and the human-supernatural hybrids. For, Healers abound and are available to ALL. 

On the compassionate side, however, Peakites continue feeding as many of the hungry, those who live outside of their borders, as they can reach. Food supply lines are expanding quickly. 

In fact, since he lives close to the border on his huge ranch, Big D, the immortal hero in my current WIP, is in charge of the food supply lines in his area. That, and keeping out enemies and marauders--those who are attempting to road-warrior stampede the border. 

Yes, I am planning to include this new Masquerade Ball in my WIP, Sondi and Big D's erotic love story. To that end, I am writing some possible scene snippets below the following images. 


"Sondi, have you ever been to a Masquerade Ball?" Big D sharply swerved onto the dirt road, intent on leaving their small-time pursuer in the dust. A mere annoyance, he'd be rounded up like a stray calf soon enough. 
"Who did you say was after us?" Sondi's tone was more curious than concerned. 
"He's a known hoodlum from Talbot Peak. Most likely his uncle, a New Jersey transplant, sent him to put the mob scare into me." 
"Mob scare?" 
 "To get a supply of food for his restaurant. Not a bad place. He could have asked in a civilized manner." 
"Okay, that makes sense. No, to answer your question. I've never been to a Masquerade Ball." 


"You know about the Midnight Stardust Supperclub, right?" Big D put the pedal to metal, and they hurtled toward the ranch's back entrance. 
"Yeah, the alpha leader's subterranean big fancy forties club. So I hear. A lot of talk about it." 
Big D glanced at Sondi for a mere instant. She smiled widely at him. "Now this is fun." 
Big D grinned bigly even though Sondi couldn't see him, given his full attention remained on the road. "That's my girl." 
He checked the rear view mirror. Sure enough, the dust storm caused by his fast-spinning tires obscured the small jet car chasing them--a newer model on the underground market. 


"Dante and Kitty are hosting a Masquerade Ball next week, Saturday night. Would you like to go with me?" Big D paused, then took the plunge. "Now don't you worry. I'll get you the costume, everything a woman needs. Yep, whatever you want, Sondi. We can even do it online."
Silence. 
Big D sensed her quick whirling thoughts, her confusion over him, as if they were his own. 
"You already...get, get me everything." Her shyer nature had emerged. 
One eye on his fancy-dancy computer screen, Big D whooped. The Peak's frequency drone struck--one of many. A directed flash of light that looked like a plasma ball, and the jet-powered engine died. 
"They got that pesky little flea tryin' to bite our butt." Big D whooped again. 
"You've got the most sci-fi amazing tech here." Sondi whipped around. She'd observed the drone's attack.


"What was he going to do if he'd caught up to us?" she asked, clearly puzzled. 
"They're called stingers. Mini missiles fired like a Gatling gun." Big D slammed on the brakes, performing a spin that caused a veritable dust bowl around them. 
As he sped toward the ground capture squad, he added, "Not to worry, Sondi. I gotta a shields-up button." 
"I'm living a James Bond movie," she muttered loudly, but a few moments later. 
Big D waited, sensing more was coming. 
He kept a keen eye on the werewolf squad. In their human form, they efficiently hauled out the light-paralyzed intruder. Once his vitals were checked, they tossed him inside the squad's war wagon. 
"I think I'm enjoying myself." 
In his peripheral vision he saw Sondi lean forward to get a better view. Her no-fear eagerness pleased him. Heckfire, everything about the woman pleased him. 
Yep, she's one helluva spunky gal, alright.


Big D rolled his car window down the old-style way. "Good job, fellas." He saluted them. "Check with Dante, but I say bundle the rattoid up good 'n tight. Deliver him back to his mobster uncle. As a message drop him at the restaurant's front door ... oh, and put an M95 mask on him." 
"We wouldn't want the little rattoid to spread any nasty germs." The team leader grinned all too wolfishly. 
"Good job," Sondi echoed. She'd turned in her seat, nearly draping herself across his lap. 
Big D's cock launched to rocket status. Instantly. Dang, I can't frighten her off. 
Using his mental prowess, Big D quickly deactivated his stud parts. 


He watched Team Leader Nargoz touched the brim of his helmet. "Thank you, ma'am," he respectfully growled. "Have a good day." 
Women were cherished in Wolf Peak. If any man didn't come by that naturally, Dante and his team were on the case, and fang-fierce on their case. No excuses. 
Sondi deserted his lap, sitting upright. "I have to say I've never seen such extraordinary policing... like here... in the Peak. Well, not policing exactly. But protection forces. At the same time, freedom reigns. I haven't seen anyone's rights violated." 
"That's the way we like it, Sondi." Big D pressed the gas pedal. At a sedate pace, he headed for the ranch. "Masquerade Ball," he reminded. "Would you like to go with me?" 


Quiet permeated the car's interior. From the corner of his eye, he saw Sondi wring her hands. Then... "Sure, why not?" 
Big D's heart leaped like a buck kangaroo in rut chasing after a female. Yep, he had a strong affinity for Aussie Roos. 
For the last century, his grandfather had run a land-immense and remote cattle station in Australia--one reason he'd arrived on Earth.
Unable to stop himself, Big D envisioned Sondi dressed in a vibrant red gown with a red feathered mask. 
But hellfire stars, true, he didn't care what she chose. He wanted her on his arm, next to him. He simply wanted to gaze upon her beauty. To hear her sassy commentary. 
He wanted her in his arms as they danced. 


"Time permittin' tomorrow, we'll find you a gown, Sondi." 
"Red," she softly stated. "I think I'd like a red gown." 
"Whatever you want." Big D's heart pounded with fierce enthusiasm, alright. "I know several costumers here in the Peak, Sondi. Most have their shops inside the Pleasure Club complex, though."
Sondi briefly, oh-so briefly touched his arm. "They say the underground Club is a shopper's paradise...what I've heard around town, that is. And from your sister." 
"Sure is. The most amazin' shops. Nothing like it in my experience." 
"You know. This, this is a shock to my system. What's here in Wolf Peak. The reality..." she trailed off. 
Big D took his gaze off the road, looking at Sondi. She nervously rubbed the top of her thighs. 
"It'll be a challenge, learnin' about us. But it's good here, Sondi. I promise."
"That's my sense of it... yeah... you wanted me to wear red. Right?" 


"You'll look gorgeous. But don't mind me. Choose whatever you like the most." Big D passed through the old-fashioned iron gate that acted as a guardian for the ranch. Yep, the ultra tech hidden within did its job. 
"Siren red. I've always wanted a siren red gown." She'd spoken in a dreamy voice. 
"Wishes do come true." Big D grabbed a long moment to savor Sondi's soft expression. "Here in Wolf Peak." 
"Certainly feels that way. Wishes coming true." 
Goldurnit, if she didn't look she'd become a real princess. Finally. "Even with..." Sondi left the rest hanging. 
"Even with the world falling apart around us." Big D finished. He increased their speed. Several of the ranch hands waved as they passed, and Big D replied with short honks of the horn. 
"Yes. I almost feel guilty... being here," she hesitated. "Almost."
"Aren't you doing everything in your power to help others?"  
 "Of course." Her spiritual essence swirled around around him with a strength that surprised Big D. 
"Then, Sondi, you're on your Divine Mission." Big D halted himself from taking hold of her lovely hand. Too soon, he reminded himself. 
"By the way, there will be a lot of Wolf masks at the Masquerade Ball. Nothin' to worry about, though."  



Run on the Wild Side of Romance  

Kisses, 

Savanna Kougar

Tuesday, August 11, 2020

Steam Hop With the Red Lioness #MFRWsteam #MFRWOrg







Welcome, everyone. I am featuring RED LIONESS TAMED, my second e-published erotic romance, a sci-fi shapeshifter with Liquid Silver Books--yep, back in the day. After a problem with a new editor, I got my rights back, revised Sun Rocket and Draxen's love story, and Indie published.

One commentor will be selected as the winner of a PDF copy. 


RED LIONESS TAMED 


Adventures of Sun Rocket, Book 1


A Shapeshifter Sci Fi Erotic Romance Novella 

~ Starring ~ 

Sun Rocket Kahoqua of the Windgrass Clan

&

Captain Draxen Z of the Venture 

 
~~~


Lioness shifter lost in space with a loner captain who will do anything to keep her, even seduction by leather. 

~~~~~~

BLURB ~

What does a lioness shifter do when she's suddenly trapped in an unknown space cruiser's cargo hold? Then, despite her ability to savagely defend herself, she's trapped beneath the swashbuckling but human Captain.

And next, cat-scratching ridiculously, she finds herself carnal-trapped, and meow yowl! bound by leather straps in his bed?

Answer: She fights tooth and claw.
Problem: The loner Captain is nova-hot at seducing her. 

~~~

Shapeshifter lovers, if yer partial to a futuristic adventurous romp of lust and love on the high celestial seas of space...if you have a yen for those cat shifter types, lament no longer.

And watch out if yer a bad kitty shifter roaming and plundering the galactic ports, and the outpost cities, there’s a kick-ass Red Lioness on your fleeing furry tail.

It's the year 3051 on Terra-Mars, the homeworld of 'Sun Rocket' Kahoqua of the Windgrass Clan. Orbiting the planet, Mars, Terra-Mars is a terra-formed moon from a thousand years past. 

~~~

Warning: Contains capture and bondage by a swashbuckling space captain who has a yen for sex with his partially shifted red lioness woman. [see cover art depiction]

~~~~~~ 


Chapter One: 
Sun Rocket and Draxen

Year 3051, according to the relic Earth calendar preserved on Terra-Mars 
"Frax! My brain feels like it’s been spun out of cobwebs." Sun Rocket squeezed her eyelids open and shut several times. Anything to clear her head.

Aware she lay on a hard metallic surface, Sun Rocket slightly altered her position. After blowing out a large breath, she attempted to open her eyes.

"Frax it to the sun! More cobwebs," she angrily complained.

Pressing her hand over her eyes, Sun Rocket sniffed carefully. Sterile, her surroundings, except for harmless micro dust – except for her – about half a day away from a bath or a good tongue licking.

Experimentally she shoved with her foot. Half her usual body weight. She was probably inside some cargo hold, orbiting or...

Cargo hold. What the–? Sun Rocket shot up to a sitting position. Her head spun at some undefined warp speed.

Blinking rapidly, she forced one eye to remain open. Ubiquitous gray cargo containers were randomly stacked around her. "How the friggin' frax...?"

She fought to stand upright, assisted by the lessened gravity, and crashed into a tall stack of empty containers. Stumbling into more containers, she kicked at them, managing to knock them out of her way while her head whirled like a new-forming galaxy.

"Not like there's going to be a port window in here," she muttered derisively. Both eyes open now, Sun Rocket watched the wall circle before her impaired vision as if a dimensional portal opened.

Steadier and steadier on her feet, her brain cobwebs clearing, Sun Rocket automatically reached for her left-flank phase pistol.

Gone! 

"Dang the villain!...of course," she reminded herself a split second later. All her weapons would have been stripped during beam transport into the space craft's hold.

But, whose cargo hold?

Frustrated, wild, Sun Rocket lashed out at the nearest containers. Her combat-trained kicks scattered them, semi-floating the giant cubes away from her.

Spying a dark, glass-looking monitor at the top of the hold, she flung the nearest containers beneath it. Rapidly, Sun Rocket threw the airtight cubes together building a tower.

Heedless of the consequences, she leapt up the huge makeshift steps. Sun Rocket pressed her palms against the wall, and stood on tiptoe. Leaning forward, she tried to examine the reddish convex monitor, still inches above her head – not a type she'd seen before.

"Get down from there!" a highly irritated male voice commanded in third galactic vernacular.

Wobbling precariously, Sun Rocket knelt on one knee. "Not like I can't land on my feet like a cat," she murmured, amused.

Gazing down toward the voice's origin, she saw the fierce male's flowing locks – well past his shoulders. For a nano-instant, the dark red and amber coloring transfixed her, pleased her.

With his fists planted on his lean hips, the humanoid male glared at her as if she dared interrupt him during his favorite meal. From her vantage point, he looked like a holoromance buccaneer – a fricken fine one.

Sleekly built, he reminded her of a racing cheetah from her homeworld – yet compared favorably to one of the holoprogram's beautifully muscled heroes.

Even his garments – a style unknown to Sun Rocket in her far-flung galactic travels tracking down, capturing, or if necessary, eliminating cat shapeshifters who had gone bad – well purrs, by her discriminating eye the attractive clothing was reminiscent of ancient Earth's movie-star swashbucklers.

"Who are you?" she called down to him, then rested on her haunches. It was her good-luck moon, she remained in human form. Not every galactic race 'appreciated' feline shapeshifters. To put it tuna-fish mildly.

"This is my vessel. Get down now!"

Frax, Sun Rocket was surprised smoke didn't billow forth from his ears and his mouth. If he'd been a dragon shifter she'd likely be coughing out lungfuls of nasty smoke.

"You failed to answer my question," she flung down to him, even as she tensed to do battle.

Ominously he placed his finger on his belt. He pressed, eliminating the weak gravity field. Her tower of containers floated, as she now floated, helpless.

The next moment Sun Rocket felt the pull of gravity, and she plummeted downward. Forcing herself not to shift, and land on her four cat paws, Sun Rocket twisted to land in a roll.

****

Enemy or not, Draxen admired the sleek power and the beautiful round curves of the woman preparing to land. If she had been in trouble, he would have caught her, captured her, then discovered who she was – and how she'd gotten in the way of his vessel's transport beam, whether intentionally or not.

Her unusual female fragrance, a blend of fiery heat and earthy musk, caused his blood to simmer with lust. His cock jerked to life, and as he watched her mane of flaming red hair fly out behind her, his pants tightened uncomfortably.

Gods, his carnal appetite had always been for redheaded women.Special delivery from fate? he asked, as she athletically landed, and rolled.

Draxen launched himself above her, wanting immediate control of her. He also wanted to know how sex-delicious she felt against him.

The woman yielded to his capture, even as he felt the ready-to-spring strength of her muscles. Draxen trapped her hands beneath his, and pouncing like a primitive, he partially covered her curvaceous body.

Her desire to fight him hummed through Draxen, yet she regarded him, cool as ice. Her eyes, stunning in their beauty, held no fear – the sparks of defiance kept veiled, hidden beneath the aqua shimmer of her steady gaze.

Draxen yielded to his own desire, studying her features – exotic high cheek bones, the strong face of a woman warrior, a naturally stubborn jaw.

In equal balance her face was sensually created, her lips full, luscious – her skin ivory, tinted with gold. He could have kissed the upturned tip of her adorable nose. Instead he stared at her tantalizing mouth.

"You could introduce yourself. Now that you have me at your mercy." Her tone offered no challenge, yet brooked no nonsense from him.

"Your body begs to be with a man, intruder. Do you belong to any man now?"

Either his Creator smiled upon him, or guffawed over His trickery. Draxen wasn't certain which, given he sailed the galactic sea toward Uresch in search of a suitable woman. One who could fool his family and the bevy of women they would sunrise-surely have lined up for him.

"What a charming compliment. How am I to answer without a proper introduction?"

She mocked him, her tone subtle. As the silence stretched between them, her gaze wavered not one micro-bit, demanding his respect.

"You are aboard my vessel without invitation or authorization. I require your title, your name." Draxen spoke officially, sternly, when all he wanted was to taste how sumptuous her lips really were...then...

"Why should I trust such knowledge to you? When I don't know where I am. Or how I precisely ended up here." Defiance flashed her eyes, then fierceness took over.

"What do you remember?" Draxen decided another course was needed if he was to gain answers – if he was to gain what his cock now begged for.

Fates be kind, her silky green-golden bodysuit clung to every curve and was so thin...

Draxen refocused on her face. The transport beam must have scrambled her most recent memories because she closed her eyes to recall.

"Spurnia," she murmured, "the coast city of Brill...I was walking along the dock...going to meet a friend..." She halted, concentrating, frowning.

"We ate a small meal together at an outdoor fishery...oh, I remember. She wanted help locating her brother. He's on a pleasure cruise, the Xroj quadrant. They hadn't heard from him as he'd promised...and I have connections...I know I was walking back, another route...I like to watch the spaceships glide overhead, and land at the intergalactic port."

Draxen watched her pause, attempt to focus – to catch any glimpse of what came next in her mind.

"I docked at the intergalactic port," he offered. "Minor repairs. Supplies...spoke with an acquaintance over space brews." Never mind the acquaintance had handed over the latest defense device on the black market – for a hefty price, paid for in Jerobb healing tea.

"There's no cargo in here. What did you transport on board?" She eyed him with some suspicion.

"My sister's wedding gift. One of them. A premium saddle for her racing llama."

"Oh..." she burst out, obviously realizing what must have occurred. "Oh no...I stopped at a pen of tiger-horses...to pet them. They were near the tack market...where you beamed up your saddle. Oh noooo," she moaned.

"Wrong place, wrong time," Draxen uttered, even as he wondered if it 'really' was the wrong place at the wrong time.

Or had fate played its hand? Intervened for him, his own special delivery.

"Return me," she announced, as if all he had to do was make a quick U-turn, drop her off, then head on his way.

"That was two ports ago. I can't spare the time."

She blinked. "How long have I been in here?" Alarm and anger rang inside her voice.

"Two and a half days' flight time for me."

Irate, she stared at him, her eyes burning aqua jewels. "You can't keep me here."

"No. My cargo hold could be destroyed. How about enjoying the favors of my bed?"

She wanted to claw his eyes out. He witnessed it in the blazing depths of her eyes. Her hands clenched beneath his, strong for their smallish size.

"Leave me at the next port," she suggested evenly.

"At Uresch?" He raised his brows, waited.

Widening her eyes, she pumped several breaths in and out. "No, thank you." Draxen felt her pulse race with fear before she spoke again. "I have no desire to be enslaved to a male's ludicrous rutting whims."

"Virgin?" he inquired, knowing it was unlikely – yet she wasn't a female panting after any suitable male. That was star-point clear.

"Because I refuse sex enslavement," she glared furiously, "you consider me a possible virgin?"

"I consider you perfect for my rutting loins."

"Quite obvious!" Her gaze was leaping fire. "Given the intruding size of your shaft."

She pushed her hands against his, protesting. In a bid for freedom she twisted beneath him. When he kept her pinned, she tested his strength for several moments.

"Get off!" she warned, her eyes absolutely beautiful in their savagery.

Trusting his luck to fate, why not? With his curiosity as aroused as his cock, Draxen didn't 'get off' her.

She exploded beneath him, writhing so swiftly, so powerfully, she escaped his hold. Rolling, she gained her feet in one lithe move.

He sprang up, and they faced each other.

Braced for battle, her eyes gleaming like a warrioress, she demanded, "Leave me at the port after Uresch."

"I can't, lovely one. My sister's wedding waits for no one."

She didn't bother with speech. She launched an attack, not to harm him...at first. With expert jabbing punches, she measured his ability to counter her moves.

Quickly their contest escalated. Their hands and feet flew, slapping hard against each other. Thuds of flesh and bone – their elevated breathing – were the only sounds as they fought, as they searched for each other's combat weakness.

The "lovely one" only gave way before his power moves – merely spinning away, then trapping him with her superior agility.

On and on, they challenged each other, as if they battled in a Nikrib contest arena. The instant his smashing blows nearly gained him possession of her, she whipped away, and sprang on top of a container.

From that height, she drove her heel into his jaw. Draxen reeled for a moment. He'd been too slow in avoiding her next blow.

Hold the sweet galactic stars! 

The flame-haired beauty proved to be a far more experienced fighter than he'd first thought. She'd been around the galaxy, obvious as asteroids to him now.

She knew exactly how to fight the likes of him. Further, from all indications, she was not desirous of his bed favors.

Soon to be changed, he decided.

Draxen figured his optimal tactic would be fighting her to exhaustion. Fortunately, he flew through a relatively benign area on his space route. And owned the time.

Balancing on the balls of his feet, Draxen followed her feline-agile leaps as she positioned herself. He charged, prepared to capture the woman who had his balls tied in a hellish knot.  

~~~~~~ 


Copyright 2013 Savanna Kougar 
All rights reserved 
Originally published by Liquid Silver Books, 2008 

Cover Artist: David Burton 
The original painting by artist, David Burton, is owned by Savanna Kougar 

~~~

Originally Published 2008 
Original Editor, Jean Cooper 

This book has been revised by the author, Savanna Kougar. 
Reissued by Purple Silk Books, 2013 

~~~  

29,685 word novella, total words: 34,480 appr. 
Includes an action flash scene, The Capture of BusterBalls
and a long interview with Sun Rocket Kahoqua 
~~~ 

~~~ Sun Rocket and Captain Draxen Z invite you to read their love story ~~~
RED LIONESS TAMED ~ Lioness shifter lost in space with a loner captain who will do anything to keep her, even seduction by leather ~ *5 Flowers* from Book Cravers 


Available at ~ SMASHWORDS Premium Catalogue, AMAZON