Drev Zander, is an ex-super soldier living in Wolf Peak Territory, my fictional shapeshifter-supernatural world at ShapeShifter Seduction. He has a rather mellow nature EXCEPT when a dangerous situation calls for an alpha male.
While this is a combat snippet, there's lots of erotic romance happening in Drev and Keina's love story.
Seven paragraphs ...
Come Hell Or High Water
Savagely determined to beat the fucking Prince to a begging pulp, Drev concentrated his mental and physical force. Come hell or high water, he'd kick Tretorff's *in blue tights* ass back through that weird portal.
Drev squeezed ever tighter, using the image, then tapping into the essence of Wolf Peak's own boa constrictor shifter, Lando. Anything to enhance his ability. Once, Drev had observed the monstrous snake drop from a tree branch, rapidly coil around a tiger ninja's neck, then spiral around his chest.
FEATURED AT TITLE MAGIC ~ Sexy Saturday kisses, everyone. This week’s theme: Sexy and Strong ... the following is from a blog post I wrote when originally promo-ing HER INSATIABLE DARK HEROES. Talk about sexy and strong, these four heroes definitely qualify. "THE DARK VALOROUS BROTHERS - Supermen of Steel I don’t know about you, but me and my girlfriends would occasionally remark and tittering-speculate on certain attributes a man of steel might possess in the bedroom. Actually, we were darn tame compared to this day and sexual age. However, I won’t go into the lusty lascivious details of our libation-encouraged fantasies, since this definitely gets into the realm of the personal. Suffice it to say, I’ve had my share of superhero fantasies. Now, I get the extreme pleasure of exploring the rod of steel. My heroes in HER INSATIABLE DARK HEROES, have survived the catastrophic weather wars on their world. About ten percent of the remaining population begin to have superpowers in conjunction with the arrival of the Harbinger, a blue star seen through the ash and haze of their devastated planet-world. This particular story was much darker to write than my previous books because in this world, the characters are struggling to survive and to continue the slow recovery of their bay city, Chrontropolis." ~~~~~~ *Hardcore Sexcerpt* seven paragraphs ~ “Do what you want.” Zotorro slid his hands beneath her, seizing the globes of her creamy voluptuous ass like a primitive. “I know what I want. Her butt filling my hands while I stroke inside her tight little hole.” Zavier trained his gaze on Zotorro, as did Zent and Zion. A split second later, he asked what the three of them wanted to know. “You were with her?”
“You f—” Zion compressed his lips, looked down at her, then spoke. “All the way?” Zotorro regarded them for the barest instant. “Once.” Blinking, he stared down at her kwim, his whole body tightening as hard as his cock. “Not like this.” He struck inside her swiftly, then paused, seemingly savoring the moment as if bliss itself wrapped around his rod. His entire face was a picture of rapture. “God, I want her. I’ve always wanted her. Wendra, I want you.”
Hailstorm howls and yowls, shapeshifter lovers. There was one doozy of a hail and rainstorm—with lightning blasting the sky—two nights ago. The hailstones weren't large, but they blasted against the windows like gunshots. I always worry about the panes breaking. The storm hit hardest during the last part of the president's address to congress...the internet connection went down...thus, I didn't get to hear the last part of the speech. Anyhoo, the rain was much needed, and more is needed. And heck, I'm really grateful there was no tornadic activity, given there were tornadoes in this large, several-state storm system. Okay, the writing is still happening...and as usual, I wish it was all going much faster...but, as usual, my time is limited by life circumstances. Also, as an author, I still feel lost at sea, so to speak. If I had more time to write, I could be working on another WIP. Certainly, I hadn't planned on writing this type of romance as this point in time...but Symona and Daletori's story seemed right for the now defunct Boxed Set. Oh well... Here's a little *unedited* snippet from Wyoming Wrangler. Symona is having flashback nightmare. No...no, she cried out mentally, desperate to stop herself from plunging into the nightmare—only it wasn't merely the repeat of a bad dream . No, she'd lived this horror for real. How many more dreams...? ...Symona scanned the mega truckstop before stepping out of her late nineties pickup, otherwise known as Old Faithful. As she filled her workhorse of a truck, the smell of diesel hung heavy in the humid night air. Always on the alert, she kept watch on the activity taking place at the food island for truckers and highway travelers. Odd. Across the way—all by itself—an airport type of van with dark windows sat in a moon shadow, one cast by the long row of well-groomed bushes fringing the asphalt parking area. Beyond the tall sentinel-like bushes was a recently mowed field then woodlands—from what she tell in the darkness. Finished gassing up her pickup, she glanced at the van again. Something was off. Her intuition buzzed alright. Curiosity gnawed at Symona as she climbed into her truck, and quickly stuck the receipt in her bag. She started the engine slowly rolling toward the van. A flash of movement in her peripheral vision caused her to brake fast. A dog ran in front of her pickup—what looked to be a shiba inu mix.
FEATURED AT TITLE MAGIC ~ Sexy Saturday kisses, everyone. Shy Yet Sexy is this week's theme. Most of my heroines have a shy streak...you write what you know, right? Until Trail barges into her life, Seneca has kept to herself, preferring ranch life with her horses, and her other animals. In this snippet, though, you see more of her fiery nature. Note: This shapeshifter erotic romance is written from the hero, Trail's POV, and is packed with action and suspense. ~~~~~~ Seven paragraphs from Chapter One ~ Before she opened the door entirely, Seneca peeked around the edge. The glisten of her bright sky eyes galloped over him. Recognizing him, she opened the door, her gaze meeting his without an ounce of pretense. Still, speculation flickered in their depths. Trail had decided a long time ago her eyes were a type of magic he wanted to explore. However, that could not be his destiny. “Howdy, Seneca. I’m looking for a job. Mandy saw your ad for a hired hand until your brother can get back on his feet again. I’m applyin’.” He tried a small grin that he hoped looked more friendly than saying, “I want to grab your fine round ass and plunder your mouth until you melt against me.”
Wow, end of Feb howls and yowls, shapeshifter lovers. It's been so nice and unusually warm on the tame prairie the past couple of weeks...however, a cool down is on the way. The Kougar's daffodils are blooming abundantly...yeah, way earlier than usual...so, hopefully frigid weather doesn't hit again. Okay then, given my time constraints and because I haven't been able to decide what writing path to take—after the collapse of the Boxed Set—I've continued Wyoming Wrangler, Symona and Daletori's paranormal erotic love story. It's been a tough time, but I'm pressing through at this point—about 12,800 words worth of pressing through...what happens next, as far as my writing...well, I don't know. Anyway, here's the unedited opening, which has been rewritten from the last time I shared it. ~~~~~~ June 5, 2016 Thunder Hole, Wyoming Chapter One Dale Vilogo shut the door of his Dodge Ram pickup with a flick of his wrist. Saturday night, and like he figured, most of the townfolk poured inside the country western bar and danceclub. The vintage brick building dominated half a block. Waylon Jennings singing "Highwayman" streamed through the open doors, and hell yeah, excitement electrified the air. Dale paused in his long stride, shooting his gaze to the wide open Montana sky. The first stars of night twinkled, and reverence for the heavens filled him as always. But yep, sure enough, there was his shooting star. A blazing flash across the darkness. Then gone. Ever since his days as a kid on his family's ranch, he'd had an uncanny knack for seeing fireballs. One summer he'd counted over a hundred meteorites streaking across the black starry skies. It was purely magic. No matter the science behind the atmosphere-burning meteors, every sighting quickened his heartbeat—felt magical to him. Yep, no doubt, luck was his companion tonight. Dale grinned wide striding for the entrance of the Thunder Corral. "You dancin' with us tonight, Dale?" Christie called out. "We'll see. Gotta whet my whistle first, little darlin'. Been a long dust-eating day." "You know, we'll be waitin', handsome," Rosalind singsonged, and gave him a flirty look. Before entering, Dale paused and adjusted his cowboy hat so it sat just right. A man owed it to himself to present a dashing appearance for the ladies.