Brewski Brewed for Full Moonlight Ale



Gill wiped down two more bottles and set them next to the case on top of the bar.  Three full cases sat halfway down the bar.  Another fifteen were loaded on the panel truck outback of Rattigan’s.   Ten more cases to go and they’d have enough liquor to get them through the fullest moon nights to hit the Peak in over a year.  This had to happen right on top of Fair opening night.  They’d done what they could to mitigate the circumstances.

The contents of each bottle held the ale Lex and Louie carefully mixed and aged under Dante’s care.  More like threat of shredded asses if shifters only got potioned.  Dante didn’t like the idea of trickery.   Local shifters would understand the hint due to the ale’s name, Full Moonlight Ale.  Humans would think the name was a play on the other two major brewers using moon in their names.   Anyone who drank the smooth pale amber liquid would get a mild buzz that lasted for a few hours.  Hops mixed with other fermented grains produced a higher alcohol content than regular beer and kept the proof well below harder stuff.  Mystic Falls would have a hard cider lemonade stand next to the Rattigan’s as well as Sandy Valley’s twisted tea booth.   Who knew that the growing shape shifter communities in Mystic Falls and Sandy Valley would vote to join in on the idea of selling alcohol to help control an outbreak spooked humans if and when the shifters morphed?

Gill glued labels on the bottles close to him.  Rattigan’s Microbrewery distilled small amounts of beers, liquors, and the occasional fermented drink for a small group of local connoisseurs.  They usually provided their own ingredients for the obnoxious smelling concoctions they fermented.   Two months ago, Bettina started experimenting with the fermenting process.  Her results yielded a blood red ale and beer combination she named Vampire Surprise.  The fangs that drank it loved the kick and the lingering buzz.  The brew contained enough sanguine ingredients to sate their blood lust.  Louie sold out of the stock almost as fast as Bettina and her business partner, the local blood bank, could distill the drink.  The blood bank mixed human and shifter blood together in the pouches they delivered while still fulfilling their community obligation to the hospital and vet clinic.

Louie’s voice followed by Dante’s flowed out the open kitchen door.  “Dante, thanks for helping us come up with a solution to what might otherwise be a full moon fiasco.”

“You’re welcome, Louie.  I’ve got pledges from shifters and humans to help with policing attendees and keeping their consumption within reason.”  Dante’s voice carried his businessman tone.  Gill knew Dante respected and loved the Peak as much as any citizen, but Dante pulled no punches about where his ethics stood on keeping everyone safe.

“I hope,” Louie started as a yell sounded.  A loud rumble followed by the floor shaking.  “Shit, some dumb shifter is tinkering with the fermentation process again!”   Any more of Louie’s response was lost as a loud clanging started as the floor quaked harder.  Gill shook his head and ran around the bar.

As he reached the kitchen door, Gill found Dante was holding his sides laughing.  Bettina’s six-foot-ten body guard stood in front of Louie looking down at him.  Louie stood toe to toe with the brute shaking his meat clever at him while holding a sharp wooden stake in his other hand.  Nelson kept nodding as Louie cussed, said something in Jersey speak and cussed again.  The chef hat Nelson wore bobbed every time he nodded.  And the white butcher’s apron he wore fit him like a 1950’s housewife apron.  His cameo t-shirt and black jeans served to make the hat and apron standout more.  Yet, he was the chief brewer and fermenter.  Bettina mentioned Nelson’s assorted past and alluded to bootlegging and moonshine recipes.

Dante wiped his eyes and turned to Gill.  “We got things under control for now.  I might need to talk to Lex about having Marissa set up a pastry stand next to their coffee booth.  Her anti-angst muffins and other soothing magical sweets might be the offset we need.  Not to mention making sure plenty of food is available period.”

Gill grinned.  “Hot, horny shifters, booze, sweets, and lots of other food, right!  I hope the humans attending don’t give us as much trouble.  Good thing we set a curfew on kid attendance.”

Gill moved back into Rattigan’s dining room.  His term as mayor was turning out differently than he expected.


Happy Weekend Gang!
Sorry for the late post.  This flash required some finessing after the scene came to me.  Looks like Talbot’s Peak Fair is getting ready to commence.  Join us beginning next Saturday for the Fair.  Our week long posts will bringing you snap shots of the happenings along withvignettes of the folks attending and running the fair.   We look forward to you and our Talbot’s Peak group enjoying Fair week.  Drop by to join us.
Until then, remember to share a good book of two with your loves and spice!  I know I will!

Be Careful What You Wish For

“What job?”  Jackson burped as he tried to swallow his mouth full of burger.  Damn, Remo knew when to catch a dude off guard.

Remo slid another half-full beer glass to Jackson.  “Now that you’re eating son, listen up.  A few more swallows won’t have you drunk. “

Jackson continued chewing. Listening didn’t cost him anything.  Besides his cash would stretch so far before he needed work.  Cattle herding and cowboy work wouldn’t be plentiful amongst the beach crowd.  The rodeo circuit closed for the season.  And there was that piece of paper he’d signed.  A blood oath that no shape shifter took for granted.  If Abebi passed by the window one more time, Jackson swore. . .

“Son, eyes here.  Ears here.  That sweet she wolf will be back.  She’s agitated.  They get that way in their first trimester.  Keep your focus.”  Remo smiled, waved his hand in front of Jackson’s face.

“Yes, I’m listening.”  Jackson drained the second glass of beer.  “Make it good, Remo.  Agitated fillies don’t settle easily.”

Remo nodded his low laugh barely audible.  “Relax Jackson.  Remoor Beach is my family’s haunt for more years than either of us has lived.  I intend to keep it in the family as long as possible.  But humans are amongst us.  We’re an oddity to them as they are to us.”

Sandy walked past Jackson.  She paused near the front door.  “Remo, I’ll take Abebi over to Starbuck’s.  Maybe Lacey will have her afternoon pastries done so we women can keep out of your hair for a bit longer.”

As the front door swung shut, Remo turned back to Jackson.  “Best way to get accepted into the pack is to become involved.”

“Involved?”  Jackson didn’t like the way Remo stressed the word.  And his sideways glance sent shivers up and down Jackson’s psyche in ways that caused goose bumps to cower.  Not a good sign.

Remo leaned on the bar, toying with a toothpick.  “A united community means peaceful co-existence.  Got us a few mixed species families making homes here.  Hell even the pack is a mixture.  Sandy is married to my brother-in-law.  He’s an owl shifter from London.”

“You’re married to a bird?” Jackson almost spit as he got his words out.  So much for enjoy the last few sips of his beer.

“Long story for another full moon.”  Remo shrugged.  “Been with her two decades plus.  The last of our brood is off to college.  My baby girl is moving away.  I can’t be in two places at once.”

“So where do I fit in?”  Jackson stood, his hands resting on the bar palms down.

“Into a Hawaiian shirt and shorts.” Remo tossed a multicolored flyer on the bar along with a lanyard with a badge attached.

Jackson read the large print on the flyer.  His eyes widened.  He began shaking his head.  “No, there’s got to be another way.”

“Best way to get to know everyone is to jump in.  Judging the annual sand castle contest on my behalf is the stamp of approval you need.  I ain’t gonna be around to protect your hide.  I’ve got mine to defend by riding shot gun over college males eyeing my baby girl as she moves into her dorm.”  Remo pushed the lanyard to Jackson.

Jackson eyed the judge’s badge.  He liked art and beauty was in the eye of the beholder.  This might not be so bad.  “What’s a Hawaiian shirt and shorts got to do with this?”  Jackson held the badge up.

Remo winked.  The slow grin spreading across his face had Jackson ready to dash out the door.  “Official uniform of the judging committee.  We need to stand out you know.  Be easy to spot.”

Home Is Where The Heart Is

I’ve started a new sieral over at my weekly blog at Shape Shifter Seductions.  I’m posting the first three parts here.  I’m thinking about posting on both blogs for those who don’t follow me over at Seductions.

And with out further  ado here is the story:

Jackson pushed his Stetson back further on his head.  So much sand and water.  He glanced down at his bare feet.  His name brand jeans rolled up to mid-calf greeted him as his eyes continue upward.  In his left hands, he held his battered cowboy boots.
“How the friggin’ shit did I end up here?” He winced at his words along with his tone.  He knew how he got here.  It still didn’t make any sense.  Not that magick and wishes made sense.  He’d followed his heart and her.  Love did weird things.  He didn’t know how weird until he met her.
Jackson sighed as another wave swept inward, stopping near his sand covered toes.  It felt good to be out of his boots.  The sun warmed more than his neck and hands.  The heat off the sand caressed his tired worn soles and moved up his legs trying to cajole him into laying down and pulling all the warmth inside.  His heart beat almost in time to the rhythm of the waves pounding the shore with each lap of their strength.
Two blocks up the center street of town, Abebi worked.  Her small shop catered to the locals and their artisan ways.
 Easels and paints filled one part of the storefront.  Midway bins of multi-colored chalks, art pads, and crayons took up one side.  In the back corner, a child-sized table sat with different sizes of coloring books strewn upon it.  Opposite it, racks held adult paint sets and complex artistic instruction books.  Near the cash register, where he’d seen her as he’d watched her through the window, easy to do items lined the shelves.  Her hand written sign offering half hour art lessons caught his eye.
Abebi rang up the largest sale of the day.  The grade school’s summer art program began in two weeks.  They came to her for supplies every year.
 This year they wanted her to teach a weeklong course on how to follow your heart through art.  The instructor smiled when Abebi stuttered and stammered.    She sketched and dabbled in watercolors.  Nothing of fame or even local interest.  She drew, painted, and colored for her own enjoyment.  After the instructor explained why they wanted her to teach, she’d agreed.  Too many of the children didn’t understand following their passion and letting their creativity out.  Some of their parents could barely afford to pay the rent or put food on the table.   If for a few hours a day, she could help the kids ignite their heart light and find a moment of value, she’d do it.
She looked up and caught his reflection in the window.  Jackson had found her.  Not a bad thing.  How she wasn’t sure.  Two full moons prior they’d run through the pastures and woods of Talbot’s Peak backcountry hunting nothing but each other.  Their howls joined the other wolves racing through the area mate hunting.  She knew those nights of passion were just that.  Passion come and gone—or so she thought.  No he’d followed her home.  How she wasn’t sure.
Abebi’s hand caressed her flat stomach.  A tiny flutter joined by another told her what those nights summed up to.  Shape shifters knew instinctively when they caught.  Pregnancy mattered amongst the natural shifters.  Jackson’s family was one of those.  Hers no one knew.  Mutant and mutt were the kindest words whispered about her before she’d escaped the pack that pushed her out. Talbot’s Peak was but a stop on her journey to find her home.  She’d found it here amongst the sand, sea, and sun.  The local pack of sea wolves didn’t care where she originated or how.  They co-opted her in shortly after they‘d discovered each other running in the foothills.
Sea wolves loved the beach, the sand, and the sea as much as they loved running through the hills.  Many speculated on their breed and origins.  One legend stood out in their lore above all others. Two lone wolves, male and female, found each other.  Their first full moon together, they’d morphed into Native Americans counterpart. Each told their story.  As the night progressed, their howls and yaps brought others to them.  The others told their stories and why they had no pack.  By the first tinges of dawn, a new pack formed.  All agreed each had their worth, their beauty, and their purpose.  None were without a home or a hearth to call their own.
Abebi found hers with them.  Jackson might too.  She didn’t know.  She wasn’t sure if his howled love song that night was real or faked.  His presence said maybe it was real.

Magic and Love’s Ornery Kick

Abebi sighed as she looked out the door.  Jackson was nowhere to be seen.  Where had he gone?  She protectively cupped her stomach.  Was her aloofness too much?  Was he having second thoughts?  Fear mixed with bits of remorse bubbled in the acidic caldron of her belly.  Wiping a lone tear off her check, Abebi reentered her shop.  There would be time to hunt Jackson down after she closed up.  The twenty miles of Remoor Beaches housed too many pack members for Jackson’s whereabouts to remain unknown for long.
Abebi slammed the cash register drawer closed as she finished counting the last of the day’s receipts.  Another thirty minutes had passed and no one of the pack reported seeing a tall out of place cowboy wandering the town.  Wolf Scat!  The man couldn’t be hiding right under noses.   Or could he?  One call usually took care of notifying the pack watch command.  Had some link been missed?
Jackson sat on the bench closest to the street he came down until he found the beach.  He pulled his boots back on wishing he didn’t have too.  He noted the sandals most everyone wore.  He’d seen the shoe store up the street next to the department store with the window displaying the flowered shorts.  Shorts were bad enough.  Flowers too?  Oh hell no!  Sweat rolled down his back and wet another portion of his jeans waistband. Jackson fanned himself with his hat.  
 Back in Talbot’s Peak a man needed his hat when he rode the range.  Here there was no range.  Only miles of sand and water.  Ocean he heard two of the kids digging in the sand call that over-sized pond.  Okay, he knew the difference between an ocean and pond.  Problem was he couldn’t see the other side of this one like he could back home.  Except home didn’t feel right anymore.  Something called him here.  Said follow her.  So he’d wished and asked magickal help. 
 Boy magick had a kick worse than an ornery mule!  By some intercession he laid here in a place called Remoor Beaches.  Jackson dropped his hat on his head and shoved off the bench.  A beer and a burger called to him.  He recalled a bar two block up offering said lunch for a few bucks.  He’d worry about a place to stay later.  The help wanted sign he’d seen wasn’t encouraging.  Waiting tables and signing didn’t mix for him.  He howled better than he sang.  Crooning took talent he sorely lacked.
Half way up the street, he saw her.  Her determined stride caught his attention first.  The way her breasts swayed with each step almost mesmerized him.  Christ he had it bad.  He practically missed the woman jogging by him.  Her generous cleavage moved in rhythm to her pace.  A cough interrupted his sightseeing. 
“You must be new in town.”  A medium built male waved at him near the entrance to the bar.  “Come on in out of the heat.  I’ll buy you a cold beer.”  The male turned and held open the door.  Cool air filtered out and over Jackson’s face.
Jackson hesitated.  Why would a stranger be offering to buy him a beer?  “Why?” Jackson startled as the man motioned him closer.  “I’m the welcoming committee for Remoor’s Sea wolf Pack.  Name’s Remo and alpha’s my game.  Along with bar entrepreneur.”

Welcome to Agua Caliente

Jackson looked both ways before following Remo into the dark interior of the bar.  A bold lettered yellow-stenciled sign took up two-thirds of the window of the interior door, Remo held open.  It read Agua Caliente.  Jackson understood enough Spanish thanks to his great grandpappy twice removed.  That family story crept up at family dinners when Cousin Felix drank too much tequila.  Jackson shook his head and continued on inside.
Remo rounded the bar, nodding at the blond wiping down the table closest to them.  “Sandy, get a couple of burgers from the kitchen.  Mine well done and yours?”
Jackson swallowed hard.  Remo was politer than most alphas Jackson encountered.  Experience sent chills down his spine warning him to be wary.  Still this wasn’t turf he knew and a much different species than the one he left back on the peak.
“Uhmm- – -“Jackson perched on the barstool near him.
“Look dude, you look hungry enough to eat a goat raw.  Sandy would appreciate it if you didn’t hunt her down tonight during the full moon.  Besides good help is hard to find.  And eating my business partner will get you in more manure than you need right now.”  Remo finished filling the large beer glass he’d taken from under the bar.  “I don’t know about your home.  Here we treat folks with manners and hospitality”. Remo slid the glass across the bar to Jackson.
“Make mine like his.”  Jackson picked up the glass, saluted Remo with it, and drank.  Nothing unusual about the beer.  Draft with a head on it and cold just the way Jackson liked his.  “Thanks.”
Remo watched Sandy give Jackson the once over before she shook her head and walked into the kitchen clucking her tongue.  He turned. Leaning on the bar, he motioned Jackson closer.  “Dude, let me give you the rules.  Then we’ll commence with intros.”
Jackson drank more beer, then nodded.  He knew when to keep his wolf yap shut.  Being a distant second cousin of Talbot’s Peak’s head wrangler held no restrictions.  In fact, more often than not, some punk wanted to pick a fight to whoop ass to show he was wolf enough to fight the current pack alpha.  Jackson stayed away from pack politics.  He didn’t even acknowledge his family bloodlines so trouble couldn’t find him as easily.    Whatever Remo had to say, Jackson would listen to and then decide how to eat his burger and clear out of town without causing a ruckus.
“One,” Remo began.  “When a pack female gets pregnant the pack rejoices.  Two, if we know who the daddy is- – -Hi Daddy.”  Remo pointed at Jackson and waved.
“If we know who daddy is we give him the options.”  Remo’s smile reminded Jackson of the pictures of the old bobcat his great grandma tangled with during her moonshine running days.  That wry smile that didn’t quite reach the eyes and yet told you sit still before shit happened.  Jackson kept nodding and swallowing more beer.
“Slow down on the brewsky son,” Remo advised.  “Need your wits about ya before the food arrives.”
“I hear ya,” Jackson said.  “Please go on.” He pushed the glass away from him.
“Okay, third, you got choices.”  Remo laid a sheet of printed-paper on the bar.
“Choices?”  Jackson reached for the paper.  Remo snatched it away.
“Hear your options out.”
Jackson arched his eyebrows.  “Go on,” he softly growled.  He didn’t like threats.  He smelled one coming.
Remo tossed back his head, laughing, howling, and laughing again.  “Feisty!  Good!  I like variety.  You’ll make a good addition.”
“A good addition?”  Jackson planted his feet on the floor, ready to defend himself.
“Your options are:  flee, fight, stay, or join the pack.  Even a combination thereof is welcomed.”  Remo tossed the paper at Jackson.  “See I’m not a bad s.o.b.  Just an overly protective alpha who wants to live in peace with my neighbors.  Not find pieces of my family, friends, and pack all over the place.”
Jackson glanced down at the paper he trapped against the bar with his hand.  What Remo had summarized read down the sheet.  Two blank lines stood out near the bottom.
“And these are for?”  Jackson gestured at the blank lines.
“Signatures.  Yours and mine.”  Remo laid a pen on the bar.  A sharp point projected from one end.  “Your signature indicates you’ll abide by the rules.  Mine says I accept your choice and decision.”
“And if I don’t?”  Jackson stood up ready to make a break for the door if necessary.
“You’re welcome to stay but. . .”  Remo raised the pen.  “There’s an unattached attractive female carrying your youngin’.  Do you want another male claiming her and the babe?  Or are you wolf enough to do your duty?”
Jackson held out his hand.  Letting go of Abebi would cut out a huge chunk of him.  He didn’t know if he could walk away.  His heart skipped two beats every time he even considered it.  “Give me the pen.”
Remo snickered.  “Ain’t no pen boy.  It’s a prick.  We sign in blood. Our pack lives by our blood oaths regardless of our origins.”
Jackson inhaled deeply.  He held out his finger, gritted his teeth, and waited.  Sharp momentary pain pierced his index finger.  Bright red blood welled up and over the tip, on to the paper.  Remo handed him the pronged pen.  Jackson scribbled his name boldly across the first line.
“Good choice mate.”  Remo held out his hand.  Jackson pricked the finger closest to him.  Remo grabbed the pen and signed below Jackson.  “Now about that job.”

Winter Heats Up Poly Style

Tongson paused, leaning against the snow shovel he’d been using to clear a path from the patio to the hot tub shed.  Neither he nor Tavia knew when Tomas would return.  Or if he would.  The covert war in Talbot’s Peak was heating up.

Too many days and nights cooped up in the house with colicky triplets wore on everyone’s nerves.  Even Mickey and Night Hawk took turns walking the floor with any of the infants needing care.  Enough for everyone to edge up to their own point of boiling.  Time to create space for release.  He smiled as another snowball whizzed by him.  The neighborhood children loved Night Hawk’s boyish exuberance and his ability to get on their level and play.  One snow-tossing contest after another had ensued in the last week.  Warm giggles and laughter rounded the side of the house where Night Hawk hid apparently discovered.

“Hey not down my back.  Ooh, that’s cold.  You got me.”  His warm laugh and calls back at the retreating backs of the youth made Mickey grin.

“I wondered why the Spirits chose Night Hawk for me.  Now I begin to understand.  We work together in ways that we aren’t even aware of.  There is balance and mixing that is essential to us.”  Mickey turned at the steps sounding behind her.  Tavia carried two of her triplets in each arm.  “Here let me take one.”

Tavia slipped her daughter into her arms.  Mickey smiled at the wide blue eyes staring up at her.  At 6 months old, each of the triplets was starting to show their distinct personalities.  Stargazer cooed and smiled with ease unlike her brother Morning Sun with his blonde locks and dark brown eyes.  He seemed to wear a frown no matter what.  Tongson and Tomas called it his thinker’s look and cover.  Nicholas, named for Tomas’s late father, loved to cuddle and smile.  His black eyes followed his mothers and fathers wherever they moved within his sight.

“Our elders can see much from the spirit world that we in our now can’t.  They are out of the flux of time that affects our corporeal state.  I know you understand and yet don’t.  Think of the astral projection I’ve been teaching you.”  Tavia’s hand ran up and down Sun’s back soothing him.  Mickey knew he refused to burp after eating as though he wanted to hang on to everything inside him, good or bad.

“I’ve begun to see how linear time does not affect shifters as it does humans.  Many of my human friends understand their mortal nature.  They admit envy from time to time.  Those closest to me have no jealousy other than wishing they had a family unit as tight as ours.”  Mickey raised Stargazer to her shoulder and began patting her small back.

Soon two loud burps filled the room with two smaller ones as well.  Tavia turned around and gazed lovingly at Tongson.  His long black braid flipped over one shoulder.  Several strands of hair escaped the tight weave.  Patches of snow clung to his hair.  The flakes twinkled and disappeared as the warmth of the room found them.  Her smiled deepened as she watch Mickey and Night Hawk.  Their eyes met with the same warmth and care as Tongson’s and hers.  The young couple fit in well with their family.

“The path is made and the tub heating.  Alicia from the village will watch the children if we want her too.  Though I suspect we will take them to the shed with us.  I readied an area to place their carriers within so they are near and safe while we relax and soak.  Tonight maybe the night, yes?”  Tongson removed his heavy jacket and flung it over a nearby chair.

Mickey blushed as she glanced toward him.  Night Hawk appeared pensive.  Expanding their bond to include sexual intimacy amongst the four of them had entered their latest discussions.  Before he’d left, Tomas had spent a night with Mickey and Night Hawk awakening Mickey’s sensual side and enjoyment of two lovers at once.  Tomas had left grinning after a night starting out alone with Tavia though ending up with them crawling into bed with Tongson swearing they missed him.  The mangy feline had snuggled between them asking for hugs.  At least he hadn’t tried to kiss him.  Tongson smiled and winked as Mickey’s face reddened.  What had Night Hawk whispered in her ear?

“Whatever he claimed I know nothing about.”  Tongson shrugged and held his hands up in the air.

“I just told her that a repeat of our night with Tomas might happen though quite a few differences would be happening.”  Night Hawk grinned and folded his arms across his chest.

Tavia shook her head and moved toward Tongson.  “You naughty Spirit Bear.  Teasing Mickey so.”

“Who me?  As if I was the one who blurted out at dinner last week that you found Mickey attractive and wouldn’t mind sharing her with me.  Now Night Hawk, no offense but this bear has no sights on you as a conquest.”

Night Hawk smirked.  “None taken.  With these two delightful ladies to pleasure and please along with watching them together…..well – – -“

“Just remember spectators might not be invited to participate,” Mickey hastily added, waving her hand at Night Hawk.

Tongson slide his arm around Tavia.  “Let’s see where the night takes us.”  Two cries interrupted any further banter.

“We might not even get beyond coupling with our four opinionated viewers.”  Mickey nodded.  Four babies could keep them busy with different needs and wants if they refused to sleep.   The night’s outcome was up for grabs for sure.

Dante’s Side Business





Macy looked at the labels on the boxes Kazim set inside Dante’s office door.  The word sex stood out in bold letters all over the portion of the label she could see.  The whispers Kazim and his friend Frank exchanged had Macy wondering if she dare ask what was going on.

Dante’s agreement to let her work under the table as head cashier and bookkeeper got her into sections of the interspecies pleasure palace most would not know existed.  Kitty’s off and on appearances were nothing short of miraculous.  Macy knew from the moment she’d seen Kitty morph that Macy would help her any way she could.  Love didn’t come easy and the heavens knew folks deserved a bit of happiness where they could find it.  So now, this new business venture had Macy and Kitty talking whenever they could.

Macy pulled her cell phone from her purse.  She thumbed through her contacts until she found Kitty’s number.  Hitting speed dial, Macy wondered if Kitty knew more or would share what she knew.

“Hi Macy,” Kitty’s breathless voice answered.  Macy smiled.  Kitty probably had her purse buried half way across the shop and hadn’t thought about someone calling her.

“Did I call at a bad time?”  Macy wanted to add that Kitty could take her time answering.  If the shop was full of patrons, Kitty would need to respond and be brief.

Kitty’s warm laughter followed.  “No just my usual focus on one thing.  I forgot to put my phone in my pocket.”

“Has Dan- – -”   Kitty’s next words cut Macy off.

“That name is never to be mentioned on an open line.  Got it?”  Macy blinked and held her phone away from her ear.  The shrill command and pitch in Kitty’s voice cut through Macy like a hot knife creaming through chilled rock hard butter.

Licking her lips, Macy nodded and cleared her throat.  “Did you hear me?”  Kitty’s tone had softened.

“Yes, I did.  I got the message loud and clear.”  Macy winced at her own tone.  Kitty’s friendship meant a lot to her.  Many of Kazim’s shifter friends snubbed Macy or spoke down to her as though being human made her less than desirable.  Kazim’s apologies and attempts at explanations didn’t stop the quick pangs of pain and sorrow.  Sorrow for those who lost a chance at true friendship and acceptance from parts of the human community that didn’t mind living amongst those differed from them.  Still the same could be said about humans too.

“I’m sorry I yelled.  For both of our safety the less you mention or talk about him the better off you are.  Kazim’s reputation is in the shadows.  He needs to stay there.”  Kitty’s hushed words sent shivers up and down Macy’s back.

“I understand.  I guess you don’t know about the boxes.”  Macy waited, glancing around the office.  Twenty to thirty boxes circled her desk.  As she looked at the letters and stick figures adorning one box, she gasped.

“Macy, are you okay?’  Kitty’s question pulled Macy back from blurting out her thoughts.

“Oh yes, I’m fine.  Listen I hear someone coming.  I’ll stop by later to talk in person.  Bye.”  Macy ended her call and quickly stuffed her phone in her pants pocket.

Kazim’s and Dante’s voices carried down the hall.

“I can’t believe what a hit these toy parties are.  I knew shifters were sexy and positive on getting it on.  But rubber toys and sex ones?”  Kazim’s laugh warmed Macy’s cheeks.  His love of pleasure and pleasing her continued to make her squirm each time she remembered one of their love making episodes.

“Oh hell yes.  It’s like the rubber bone humans give their dogs or the squeaker toys.  Except with shifters, they start out human and end up letting their animal side take over.  Remember last Saturday night?”  Kazim’s next words echoed through the hall adding to the red hue Macy was sure warmed her cheeks and neck.

“Which part?  When the she wolf got pissed off at the drunk male who wouldn’t take no for an answer and she double knotted the elastic straps of the strap on cock on his head after she tripped him?  Talk about embarrassment.  Running around with a neon glowing purple cock pointing off your head sure shit ain’t dignified.”

Dante’s snicker preceded his reply.  “Yes, that was good.  No, my favorite was when the two got into the tug of war over the glow in the dark cock ring.  Three tugs later and did they glow from using it.  Broke the ring in half spattering themselves with the fluid inside.”

Kazim coughed and sputtered.  “I hear they couldn’t get the fluid off for days!  Sure adds a new meaning to sex makes you glow.”

Getting Her Land Legs



Castella lay on her back wrapped in the sheets Tessa and Sandra insisted she use along with a covering they called a nightdress.  Through the open window, sounds of the surf reached Cateslla’s ears.  So close and yet so far away her former home called to her. Would she ever be able to return?

Nitchell, the sea sprite, had been the first to pay her homage.  Shivers of chagrin and apprehension had rippled through her partly settled stomach.  No one could find her unless she kept on announcing her name aloud and where she came from.  Still Nitchell’s simple act had the others moving at various points around the area they occupied.  Sandra had spoken of urgency and protection.  Tessa had added her concerns.  The males stood their ground as though none wanted to admit their surprise.  Castella had tried to hide her half smile as she sipped the warm water.

“Princess Castella, I am honored to meet you.”  Nitchell began to rise looking around him.  Shit, what a group of morons had he teamed up with?  Even humans showed their royalty respect.  Why weren’t they doing this with Castella?

“I know you are out of your element,”  Nemos began, his head moved from side to side as though he watched the beach and those moving upon the sands further up the way.  “You didn’t wash up on the beach for no reason.  I suspect you need help.”

Castella snuggled deeper into the sheets pulling the light blanket up.  As much as she missed the wetness of the ocean and the tang of salt-water coursing over her gills, the cooler dry air of the land sent chills racing across her damp skin.  The warmth of the shower Sandra and Tessa had help her take lingered briefly as they had assisted her with toweling off.

Her legs had buckled and moved like soaked pieces of paper ready to snap with the first hard rush of current against them.  The one called Cason had swept her up in his arms carrying her inside and from the bathing area to the bed.  The look on his face reminded her of her husband.  Desire and need reared their demands and swept on her.  How could she feel things this rapidly?  Her husband lay dead upon the ocean floor not more than—not more than how many hours? Days?  Passages of time moved differently for humans than merfolk.  Regardless to be feeling this for another so soon appalled Castella.

Tessa and Sandra’s parting words made sense as sleep began to claim Castella.  “Rest, and know you are safe.  You need land legs for your journey.  We’re here to help you.  You’re one of us now.”

Who’s The Nude Blonde?


Cason backed away from the nude female as she stirred.  His ears still ached from the high-pitched song he kept hearing and feeling as though he should know the words to running through his subconscious thoughts.  And yet, part of him wanted to reach down and help her to her feet.  Why did he feel so protective of her?  He’d never seen her before.  He couldn’t remember meeting her.  Frack, he couldn’t even put more than two names together out of the group of shifters and humans surrounding them.  How had his early morning beach walk become so complicated?

“You know mate,” Nitchell began, his Cockney accent more pronounced.  “I warned you about her.”  His wings beat back and forth as he worked to stay aloft out of the main stream of wind blowing off the water.

“Nitchell, I don’t give a damn what you said.  You keep trying to tell me what to do.  Free will lets me off the hook.  You ain’t learned that yet have you.”  Cason wanted to grab his head.  It hurt like he’d had one hell of a hangover.  One large enough to last him several life times over.  His queasy stomach refused to settle.  Oh well, he’d spilled the contents so nothing remained.  The longer he stood still the better he felt.  Looking toward the water did not help.  Each lap of waves sent his head to pounding as though someone had turned lose 100 woodpeckers on the inside of his already busting head.

“Help me please,” a frail feminine voice cried.  All eyes shifted to her.  Castella could feel their gaze rove over her.  How long had she lain here upon the sands free from her water home?  She shuddered with each breath.  Slowly raising her hands to her neck, she ran her fingers over where her gills should be.  Nothing.  Soft flesh and the pulse of her beating heart greeted her probing.  Lifting her head, she glanced toward the sky blue water rushing toward her as wave upon wave broke the surf line.  Two lone tears worked their way down her cheek and dropped to her hand.  Her promise echoed as her heat skipped a beat.  She would live and so would her unborn child.  Nothing would prevent her from surviving.  Except one person–one bastard of a power hungry animal, Sherre Kahn.

“We need to get her and us behind the clothing optional sign.”  Cason turned to where Nemos and Sandra stood.  Beside them, the two humans nodded in agreement.  Cason knew they were non-shifters how well they knew Sandra and Nemos remained to be figured out.

Sandra dropped to her knees next to the blonde.  “Please know no one means to harm you.  We need to get you up and on your feet.  I suspect your land legs are not stable.  Lean on Nemos and I.”  The blonde seemed to understand and accepted Sandra’s hand.  With Nemos’s help, she rose and leaned on him.  Sandra looped her other arm around her waist and assisted the blonde across the warm sand.

Ten minutes later with help from all of them, Castella found herself sitting on a bench wrapped in a beach towel as she shivered.  Heat rose from a cup setting before her.  The woman called Tessa assured her it was warm water with a bit of salt to help settle her stomach.  How could she know?  Yet, there was that passing look and understanding smile.  As Castella’s eyes moved over Tessa’s frame, she began to understand why.  Tessa carried her child high and proud.  As did the half-human Sandra.  Pregnant females shared a bond older than time.

“I—I—“Castella tried to stop the chills and cold clamoring through her. She needed to speak.  Warn these souls of the havoc awaiting them for helping her.

“I am Castella Merprincess.”  She spat out gripping the table.  Silence fell as the seminude sea sprite landed on the table and kneeled before her.



Cason Awakens

Cason groaned and tried to open one eye. His stomach rushed up to meet his throat. Inhaling sharply, he lay his head on his forearm. What the hell had hit him? Why did he feel like he’d tied on a 3 day drinking binge with his frat brothers? Fuck, the last time he’d been stupid enough to do that he’d woken up to find Nitchell hovering over him. Had the little bastard slipped him – – –

Images slammed through Cason’s mind. Vivid underwater scenery and glimpses of far off mountains faded as he drew in a deep breath and slowly exhaled. His stomach sank back to its normal position, close to his navel. Raising his head with care and caution, Cason opened one eye. He counted the pairs of feet near him. At least five people stood nearby. Shit, what had Nitchell done now to draw attention to them?

“I think he’s coming round.” Nitchell’s fake cockney accent rankled Cason every time he heard it. Having a sea sprite for a guardian angel didn’t make life any easier, nor did wondering what else the gods might decide to throw at him. When had he pissed them off so thoroughly?

“Nitchell, lower your voice,” a female scolded. Cason’s eyes roved up the pair of feminine legs closest to him. They stopped at her red haired thatch. Another darker colored one stood next to her. When had Sandra taken up with women? Did Nemos know?

“Yes, I know every purr she makes, my friend.” Cason’s gaze inched left. A hand waved before him. His eyes clapped shut as he groaned.

“Nemos, move before I throw up.” Cason no more than spat out his last words and his stomach spewed up his throat. Several gut retching minutes later, two sets of hands helped Cason roll over.

“Take it easy.” A softer unknown feminine voice offered. “Jaxson has gone to the house to get you some water and a clean shirt.”

Cason shielded his eyes as he tried opening them again. Next to Sandra, another nude female stood. Nemos squatted near him, sniffing the air. “Do I smell that foul?”

Nemos smiled. “No, keeping an eye on the beach and those that approach. Two yards in either direction are groups that could move toward us. Right now they are interested in the waves and surf more than a group of people standing around.”

“If he can stand, we need to move back up behind our privacy fence. The life guards are coming on duty soon.” A tall black haired male stepped around Sandra and her companion. “I’m Jaxson and this is my mate Tessa.” He pointed to the lithe blonde next to Sandra.

“I’m Cason.” He tried to sit up. His vision blurred and his stomach lurched. “Can someone halt the train trying to run over me again?” Cason grabbed his head and swayed upright.

“Easy said than done mate,” Nitchell quipped. Cason squinted at him.

“Nitchell what the hell did you do to—“A female groan drowned out Cason’s next words.

All turned to face the lone woman still prone next to them. Her ash blonde locks hid her face. Her nude body left little to the imagination as she turned on her side.

“Who is she?” Cason staggered to his feet. Easing his way away from her, he wondered why he felt an over whelming need to protect her.


Have a great weekend all! I’m spending it with my loves and their loves.


Nitchell’s Plan



Nitchell wiped his sweaty palms down his loincloth.  Since coming ashore six months earlier, he’d learned to fain human modesty.  Cason insisted on covering himself regardless of who was present.  Nitchell smiled as images from the first time he’d caught Cason nude in bed jacking off flashed through his mind.

“Hmmm,” Nitchell twilled aloud.  “Cason has a thing for nudes and scantily clad women.  Wonder if I can ping his horny id and get him to make a move on the merwoman.”  A clap of thunder pounded the air and a bolt of lightning jagged deep into the sand not too far from where Cason and the mermaid lay.

Nitchell jumped, startled, and rolled his eyes toward the clouds hanging close.  “Okay, I get the point.  Just trying to get them together and his protective side fired up.”

Glancing back at Cason and his female interest, Nitchell saw the two wolves sitting on their haunches watching him as they sniffed the air.  Maybe—just maybe—Nitchell’s smile grew.  Oh, yes things were looking up.

“Nemos,” Nitchell called, motioning the male wolf closest to him forward.  “I need you to morph.  Your companion too.”

Two nude humans stood next to Cason and the mermaid.  Nitchell shook his head.  Clothes!  Shit, he’d forgotten shape shifters didn’t magically make clothing appear when they shifted.   Nudity was clothing to them.  Gacks!  How did that spell go?

“Covering of delight find a way to ease their embarrassment,” he began, waving his hands in several directions until Nemos grabbed his arm.

“Nitchell,” Nemos growled.  “We’re not embarrassed.  So I don’t believe the spell will work.  However if you need us to dress, Sandra can snitch clothes from that laundry line.  Of course, the folks there know us.  I’m sure they won’t mind.”

Nemos’s companion stretched as she rose to her feet.  Her plump breasts flowed up and down her chest as she reached toward the heavens and lowered her arms.  Her fire red hair matched that covering the V between her legs.  Nitchell gulped and tried to image ice covered mountains and snow.  His crotch and groin heated up more than he could cool down.  Sandra’s lean lithe build turned Nitchell on in ways his imagination refused to let loose of.  As she turned to walk away, she winked at him and puckered an air born kiss at Nemos.

“Hot stuff, eh my friend.”  Nemos’s throaty laugh broke through Nitchell’s eye-humping stare.  Nemos grinned as Nitchell reddened.  “She knows what she does to you.  You might give in and take her up on the offer.  I know she’ll leave you verrrrry satisfied.”

Nitchell’s red hue grew brighter.  Nemos bit his lip to keep from laughing.  Noting Nitchell’s wings fluttered faster each time Sandra bent over as she retrieved items from the human standing near her and placed them in the bag at her, Nemos sniffed.  Hot wet feminine scents filled his nose and warmed his palate.  Yes, Nitchell would be well satisfied if he’d give in and accept Sandra’s open invitation.  Sharing her with a mutual friend was an entertaining option.  Too bad Nitchell didn’t get that he could be sexual and still be the guardian he was supposed to be.

Nemos looked up.  Nitchell’s cough and sputter drew his attention.  Next to Sandra, a human female approached, nude like Sandra.  Nemos moved forward.  His pack had taken a few humans in.  This one had agreed with her human spouse to mate with him and Sandra.  Soon she would begin to show her pregnancy.  His child lay beneath her heart as her mate’s child lay tucked beneath Sandra’s heart.  Life was good.  Now if Nitchell would explain his new charge and Cason’s involvement.  Things might get even better.

A loud groan filled the air.  Sandra and the female stopped near Nitchell.  Cason’s head began to rise.  Nemos dropped to his knees near him.  How badly scattered were his thoughts?  Nemos knew the mermaid’s siren song had affected Cason.  Her death chant had called too many.

“Nitchell,” Sandra whispered as she closed the distance between them.  “What is your plan?”

“Plan?”  Nitchell coughed and sputtered more.  “Uhmm, get them together where I can keep an eye on em.  Yep, that’s right.”  He flapped his wings and tried to fly away the closer she got.

“Get them together how?”  Sandra leaned very close almost nose to nose with Nitchell.  She’d kiss him except she wasn’t sure how he’d take it.  Sea sprites could be lusty and take a while to sate once sex started.  Right now wasn’t optimum to her plan.  Or could she turn Nitchell’s plan into a mutual one where everyone glowed with satisfaction?



The Further Adventures of Nitchell and Cason

Shivers griped her deep in her heart. Tears rushed from her eyes as he lay dying in her arms. Her husband, lover and best friend reached to brush her tears away. He tried to speak, words failed him. With his shuddered breaths, he implored her to look him deep in the eye and not flinch. Volumes of love and sorrow passed between the couple before he slipped away.

Castella tossed back her head and screamed. Pain wracked her body as if her very soul sought to escape. Roars of grief rippled through the watery depths never reaching the surface where humans and the sun flocked on the surface. In the sands next to her, lay her child’s torn and mutilated body. Her husband had tried to save the child with a soul bond. Too much too late, death had taken both of them. Damn the minions who sought to usurp the power and rule by terror and threat. Damn any who let jealousy and greedy rule them.

Castella wanted to lay down beside her child and husband, and join them in the great water world of eternal souls. Yet deep in her soul, she knew her time had not come. Another needed her. Pregnant and alone in a hostile world would not be easy. Yet Manron had exacted her love promise to live and raise their unborn child. He released her from their eternity bond and demanded she love and commit again.

Amongst the humans, go there her mind echoed. She had nothing in common with them. Except a cousin who had fled with his twins to an obscure place called Talbot’s Peak. Far from the waters of their home, he hid with his children. Their weak psychic link allowed her to call out and plan her escape. One day she’d return and exact her revenge. Shere Kahn’s alliances would not reach into Oceana’s depths any deeper.

* * * * *
“Look mate, I stayed away.” Nitchell hovered over Cason as he knelt by the nude female laying face down on the beach.

“Nitchell, shut your yap. It’s bad enough I go around looking like a blooming idiot talking constantly to himself. Least you could do is stop berating me and causing more trouble.” Cason glanced over his shoulder hoping no one heard him. Only yards of empty beach flowed out behind him. Good, no one was running towards them or paparazzi with their flashing cameras race to them.

“Well I never…” Nitchell began, his arms folded tightly across his chest. His wings flapped more with each breeze blowing in off the water.

“Yes you never and that is why you got banished. So learn to shut up and keep an eye on things.” Cason stood, pulling his shirt over his head. He could make out her pale blue lips. He hoped she lived. Whoever she was, he knew despite what his mind screamed wasn’t so that she was here for a reason.

Folding his shirt in thirds, Cason inched forward. CPR on a fish? Lord had his brain really gone that far south on him? Yet, the curve of her jaw and fullness of her breast line indicated otherwise.

Much more and he’d be in it deep. The music filling his ears burst into his mind with pictures and jagged pieces of information. A loud drumbeat began somewhere behind his eyes and grew with each beat of his heart. He couldn’t take his gaze off her. It was as though a deep psychic bond was forming. Why?

“Nitchell!” Cason cried out, clutching his head as his vision blurred to black.