Wednesday's Words for October , 2013

I’ve arrived safe and sound in Texas! My flights yesterday were seamless. It was the first time I’ve flown with United Airlines, and I have to say, their care and service was above and beyond. I need assistance in the airports. They are just too massive for me to manage on my own; so when I book a flight, whether I am alone, or with someone, I always request wheelchair assistance.

Yesterday at Toronto’s Pearson airport, one of the United agents intercepted me as I was headed toward the line-up. He took me over, seated me, checked me in, and called for the assistance. How wonderful to be treated so well. Everyone I encountered yesterday made the trip a very pleasant experience.

The first thing I noticed, of course, when I got my first up close look at San Antonio, was how lush and green everything is—and how warm and humid it is here. It really is like being in a different world. I left a land that was resplendent in autumn colors and falling leaves. It had been raining and the roads were littered with the usual fall debris. It was chilly enough to wear a jacket—one that was zipped up.

Here, it could very well be summer still. Oh, I am certain that the native Texan will be laughing at this, and will very likely be able to point out all the signs that tell them it is indeed fall.

But for this gallivanting Canadian, the illusion of summer is a welcome one.

Today is a day of journeying to the State’s capital, Austin. After six years of being published by Siren, I finally get to go there and tour the headquarters. I’m excited to do so. I’ve met my publisher many times, of course, and I cherish the opportunities I’ve had to spend time with her. After all, with her one word—“yes”—she changed my life.

Insofar as I can (because I am not perfect) I live my life with an attitude of gratitude. I believe in giving thanks on a daily basis, and in being mindful of the kindnesses extended to me. I believe in letting people know how grateful I am for them.

So I thought it only fitting that I give y’all (I’m in Texas, remember) something to be thankful for on this wonderful Wednesday. Today’s essay is short. Very short. In fact, it’s done.

I’m sure, once I’ve racked up more Texas experiences, that I will make up for this brevity next week.

Love,
Morgan
http://www.morganashbury.com
http://www.bookstrand.com/morgan-ashbury

Angelic Forecast ~ #269

'Yes, one of the worst, my beloved one. As you heard the beast-machines are to be deployed against freedom fighters -- in truth, against any human who holds freedom as sacred within their heart and soul.'

'No'... bursts from me, as a nightmare vision unfolds before my mind's eye. I steady my astral self against Moon Beam.

'What you have just witnessed is about to occur on Earth unless this potential future is revealed.'

'How do I reveal it?' I ask as my soul quivers in both fear and anger.

"Sh’raka... my love. You must awaken."

I hear my lion man's tender concerned voice. Before I know it my eyes pop open and I'm wide-eyed. Remaining motionless, I feel as if I'm still half in the astral realm.

The dark future tugs at me. The light now surrounding me pulls me toward it.

"Tug of war," I mumble.

"Simply remember what you experienced, my one," Dhuroth gently encourages. "Then, you will be entirely present with me."

Taking moments, I imprint the details of my astral experience in my memory banks. "Got it," I murmur, wondering again how I'm supposed to reveal this 'potential' future.

Dhuroth lifts my hand cradling it between his. "You will write it as -- what is it called in English? ... ah yes, a fictional story."

"Well, that makes sense," I say after long moments of pondering. "Although... with this conflict, there is no time to write."

"True, my beloved woman. That will change soon enough."

I raise my brows as I fully gaze at my lion man. "What do you know?" I ask, hope soaring inside me.

TO BE CONTINUED...
~~~~~~

ANGELIC FORECAST ~

Now Comes the Worldwide Rise of the Woman Warrior, the Warrioress

From a previous forecast: "The Goddess Arrives, dancing and spinning among the economic turmoil and war-chaos of our current world. She brings her sacred heart for the sake of humanity, to heal Mother Earth.

The Goddess Arrives once again, her heart shining with love, her spirit offering the gift of soul healing. She asks that you accept her love, her nurturing hand upon you -- that you receive her healing energies.

The Goddess Arrives as warrioress, radiant battle sword in hand. She is ready to strike down her enemies. She is prepared to help humanity rise toward their destiny, living and flying among the stars."

On the AWAKENING front, now two women leaders come into prominence upon the world's stage. One brings the light of the Divine. The other brings the cruel crushing fist of the dark-side.

Each one of us will choose. Humanity as a whole will choose. AWAKEN to a  Divine dance with the Sacred Heart. Or descend into a brutal, impoverished existence where the dark-siders rule and dominate without compassion.

On the magickal, mystical front, this week, All Hallow's Eve craziness ensues, both good and bad. This will be centered around the Sacred Feminine as She asserts Herself more powerfully. For now, more of humanity honors Her presence, and knows her true Way upon the Earth.

For the next several weeks, the 'Mages of Ages Lost' cast their bright-light magick breaking apart waves of evil sorcery that have been keeping humankind blinded to the 'reality' of the world. Meanwhile, the Viper warlocks panic and do all in their lessening power to blast the people with black sorcery, and spread their smoke of deception. Their goal is to cause a mayhem of distraction and disaster.

On the personal front, a spooky week of possible financial problems. Continue to monitor your finances carefully, while preparing for the upcoming superstorms of life.

This is also a wonderful week to re-establish relationships, and make your good relationships even stronger. For the heart soars at this time, and minds meet. Souls come together. We are ready.

On the paranormal front, this week the *past* returns -- the ancestors of humanity rise in spirit. For, the time of Great Warning is here. With the dimensional boundaries nearly transparent during this All Hallow's Eve, 'those' who love humanity come forth in assistance. They come forth to save what humankind has built as a life-monument to All That is Good upon Earth.

Also, likely there will be more dragon sightings in the near future. This is because the deep caves of Earth are being affected by land changes and the inter-dimensional wall is continuing to thin.

THIS FORECAST IS CONTINUED AT *TITLE MAGIC* ~titlemagic.blogspot.com~ 

 Angelic blessings from Volcano & Sedona
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Warning!!! The global elite [New World Order] does not want *you* to read this book. See ~ Powerful Dreams at my Kougar Kisses blog.

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]
~~~~~~

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

Author Discovery by BookStrand author, Lindsay Townsend.
~~~

~ HAVE A MAGICKAL HALLOWEEN WEEK ~

Kisses from Savanna Kougar...

~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance ~

Siren-BookStrand Author of ~

All Shades of Blue Paradise
[World of the Blue Pearl Moon, Book 1]

When a Good Angel Falls ~ In Print
[Winter Solstice 2012, Book 1]

Murder by Hair Spray in Gardenia, New Atlantis ~ In Print
[New Atlantis Trilogy, Book 1]

Her Insatiable Dark Heroes ~ In Print
[Chrontropolis, Book 1]

Stallion of Ash and Flame ~ In Print

Branded by the Texans ~ IN PRINT ~ A Siren-BookStrand Bestseller!
[Three Star Republic]

Kandy Apple and Her Hellhounds ~  What happens when two of Hades’ most mission-accomplished Hellhounds find just the right witch for Halloween? ~ Ebook and In Print.

Life With Baby Doll: The Touch of ManLove

WARNING:  The links contained within this post will take you to sites with content for mature readers only.  However, this post is suitable for a PG audience.

I consider myself a very masculine sort of man, one who cares for his partner with what I like to refer to as a tender dominance. I derive emotional and physical pleasure from knowing that Baby Doll trusts and submits his heart and body to my care.  Even a man such as myself is vulnerable to weaknesses.  One of mine appears in the form of gender dysphoria.  The definition of gender dysphoria is a strong dissatisfaction with the gender assigned at birth, as the person finds themselves identifying as the opposite sex.

Having been a gay transman from my earliest memory, I’ve always experienced different levels of dysphoria.  The worst episodes that I can remember were during early puberty and my high school years.  As a result, I contemplated suicide in 1991 at the age of seventeen.  Those readers who follow this series know that meeting my partner, John Jericho, changed the course of my life, including the impending suicide.  Since then, I haven’t been completely immune to the effects of dyphoria.  Regardless of the emotional trauma that the condition inflicts, I always know that the touch of John’s manlove will prevent me from slipping so far into the dark that I would desire once again to try and take my own life.

One personal dysphoria trigger is visiting the gynecologist.  I felt like a fish out of water, this past Monday afternoon, sitting in a waiting room full of pregnant women and femininity.  This time I had waited two years to go, and the only reason I did was because I feared not having access to early detection of certain illnesses.

Regardless of the fact that I am a Pre-op, Pre-Hormone transman, there are certain areas of my body that are completely ignored by myself, my partner, and the rest of the world in general.  Note to the curious, the areas that are my masculine body are also the same for my character, Reed Collins, in my short story, Playboy28.  The only difference is that I am a top in my romantic relationship with John.  This dislike for certain areas of my body, has made it easy and desirable to assume that status with him.

That afternoon as I drove John and myself home, I spoke very little, while I tried to hold on to every shred of manhood that I could get my hands on. Now I had another appointment, an ultrasound in a week, to check on my ever growing fibroids, as apparently my doctor didn’t  like what she felt.  She never does.  I’ve lived with that condition for the better part of  ten years.  Baby Doll sat quietly beside me, as I gripped the wheel with one hand, and caressed his fingers with the other.

The house was quiet when we arrived home.  Our sixteen-year-old son was at the gym.  Sarah, our thirteen year old daughter, was Skyping with her boyfriend in her room.  I locked our bedroom door behind us, walking to the window.  Staring into the wooded area behind our condominium, I felt Baby Doll’s arms immediately go around my body.  Usually, I am the one holding him from that position.  I am a firm believer that men can cry. While I don’t shed tears very often, John always knows what circumstances will break my resolve.  He held me close in his arms while I wept.

****

John was the first to speak, “Andrew, you know that you’re my man, and you satisfy me in every way.”

“Alright,” I spoke as the dysphoria continued to rage.

“What did you tell me the last time you made love to me?”

“That when I touch you I am more masculine than at any other time, and that my pleasure depends on yours.”

“No one ever knew my heart, or cared to look,”  John whispered softly.  ”No  man has ever pleasured me in bed the way you do.”

Turning to face my lover, his face and eyes shown with the look of passion that I often try to elicit.

“Make love to me, Andrew?”  John asked.

“Now?” I replied.

****

Of course I knew I was going to, but after letting my guard down moments before in his arms, I had to act like I had a certain level of control in the situation.  Any gay man like myself, particularly one who is attracted to sweet effeminate males, would be out of his mind to refuse the advances of his partner.

While making love to John on Monday afternoon did much to dispel my gender dysphoria for a time, I am convinced that the touch of ManLove is the best medicine of all.

To learn more about this series and find a recent list of archives visit:  Life With Baby Doll.  More will be added, as I continue to update my new Website. Due to the increasing popularity of these posts, I have created the permanent tab on my Website that contains information concerning the intense and passionate love affair that I share with my partner, John Jericho.

I enjoy hearing from all of my readers, and look forward to your e-mails.  Remember Love is Love…Period.

photo credit: numberstumper via photopin cc

Andrew K Kinley  is a ManLove erotic romance author for Siren-Bookstrand Publishing  and LGBTQ rights activist based in Hot Springs, AR.  All of his work can be found at:  A K Kinley. For questions or comments please e-mail him at authorakkinley@gmail.com.

Wednesday's Words for October 23, 2013

This past week, my beloved and I did something we haven’t done in more than a decade. We attended a concert. We went to see Brad Paisley, with his guests Lee Brice and Chris Young.

I purchased the tickets several months ago, on a whim. And the tickets I got were for seats on the floor, as opposed to arena seating.

First I need to tell you that I had a really good time. I have music by all three of those artists in my iTunes library. That was one of the reasons I wanted to go to this event; for me it was like getting to see three favorites for the price of one. All three performers put on a very good show. I was be-bopping and singing along with everyone else there. We were fairly close to the stage, I thought. Then, at one point, the stage hands pushed a button and the short catwalk became a long catwalk and Brad Paisley walked right down and was singing about ten feet away from where we were standing.

I knew, when I bought the tickets, that I would likely need to be on my feet for most of the three and a half hours the show was scheduled to take. As you know that isn’t something I commit to do lightly. Having such severe arthritis means that when I do things like this—stay on my feet for too long (not to mention standing on wood that is temporarily shielding ice)—that I am going to pay for it the next few days.

That is the reality of my life, and I accepted it as so long ago. When there is something I really want to do, then I do it and willingly accept the physical consequences and pay that price.

My beloved was not pleased, but only because he hates to see me in pain. I will admit, too, that I had thought the “jumbotrons” would be placed high enough that we could at least see them if we couldn’t see the stage. This was not the case. Neither were easily visible from our positions on the floor.

The evening started out good but quickly became stressful, until Mr. Ashbury understood that my pleasure in the outing could not be diminished by only seeing the stage part of the time, or having to be on my feet most of the time. There was in fact only one thing that was powerful enough to make the evening less. And once he got that and decided to have a good time too and not grumble at me about the seats we had, then it was a great night. Poor man. He really was just peeved on my behalf—even though I had warned him beforehand how the evening was going to go.

There is something to be said for the raw energy of a live performance. Not just the energy of the performers, but of the audience, too. I felt invigorated, not exhausted. What a gift that was!

I did promise my beloved that the next performance we attend at this venue will be in the arena seats, and not on the floor. I’m not the only person whose legs are no longer young.

At one point it appeared as if Carrie Underwood was standing on stage, while she sang a duet with Brad Paisley. It sure looked like she was there from where we were sitting. It was only the next day that I got a clue her appearance had been holographic.

Unknown to us at the time, our oldest grandson was in the audience with his girlfriend—right up at the edge of the V.I.P seating, very close to the stage. The next day he texted and wanted to know if it was really true that his grandparents had actually attended the same concert he had. So we chatted through text messaging as we sometimes do, and I asked him if Carrie Underwood had actually been there.

His answer made me feel much better. He said that everyone in their area had thought so, too, until there was a tiny technical problem with the hologram, right near the end.

It’s nice to know I’m not as far out in left field as I sometimes think I am.

Next week, these words will be coming to you from the great State of Texas. I’ll be leaving on Tuesday for a ten day stay. I’m very excited, as I get to see not only my wonderful publisher, but also some very good friends who are near and dear to my heart.

Love,
Morgan
http://www.morganashbury.com
http://www.bookstrand.com/morgan-ashbury

Angelic Forecast ~ #268

'Omygawd,' I say mentally. Four abreast the troops appear. Not only are they identical in appearance but part machine.

Not quite like the Borg, their partial helmets are some sort of silvery device that is hooked into their brains, and likely controls their central nervous system.

Row after row of them march toward the massive steel gate of the nightmarish compound. My feet feel stuck to the ground as I watch a mighty river of these black-uniformed soldiers enter through the gate that appears to have automatically opened for them.

'What are they?' I mentally whisper to Moon Dream.

'They are the black force sent to destroy the idea of freedom.' The voice comes from On High.

'Volcano,' I summon the Cherub One as I shake in my non-existent boots.

'I am here.' I hear his jovial yet serious response, then feel him hovering above me. 'Be not afraid.'

'Be not afraid,' I protest. 'What is going on? Those cloned, machine troops are real, right? Not some allegory or symbolic message.'

'Yes, they are real -- a hybrid of human genes and an alien machine race.'

'The result of some hideous black project, no doubt.' I say as the scene fades to nondescript swirling shades of gray.

'Yes, one of the worst, my beloved one. As you heard the beast-machines are to be deployed against freedom fighters -- in truth, against any human who holds freedom as sacred within their heart and soul.'

'No'... bursts from me, as a nightmare vision unfolds before my mind's eye. I steady my astral self against Moon Beam.

'What you have just witnessed is about to occur on Earth unless this potential future is revealed.'

'How do I reveal it?' I ask as my soul quivers in both fear and anger.

TO BE CONTINUED...
~~~~~~

ANGELIC FORECAST ~

The Rise of People Power ... Now, the *power of the people* goes nova-bursting extreme across the planet.

From this point forward, humanity as a whole, WAKES UP to their true strength, to their real potential. And, individual, inner wisdom rules more and more.

On the AWAKENING front, at this point in history, many realize governmental restrictions are now obsolete in the face of the Aquarian Conspiracy -- or the ability of humanity to live and love from their spiritual center, from their caring hearts.

The spiritual nature of humankind soars exponentially during the remaining months of 2013, and into 2014. However, the Great Divide deepens into a chasm that can no longer be breached. For, the zombies -- those who have had their minds and souls destroyed by the system -- now stalk those of us who remain gloriously, fully human.

On the magickal, mystical front, this week the 'Mages of Ages Lost' use their light blades to slash through the black-sorcery blanket smothering the spirit of humanity. For, the viper magicians have been slaughtering the human potential  for age upon age.

Also, this week initiates a new level of AWARENESS for those who are the upcoming generation of the MAGICKAL ONES -- however, only for those who are dedicated to the GOOD SIDE of life.

On the personal front, financial concerns are front and center for many this week, and for the next month. This means keeping a close eye on all of your financial concerns, and being one step ahead of the upcoming glitches that are likely to continue through the end of the year.

As well, this is a perfect week to finish projects most in need of completion. There is also a good financial opportunity on the way. It could be small, but this opportunity will prove invaluable.

As always, stock up on necessities and prepare for emergency situations as best as you are able. Make a list of what you need most.

On the paranormal front, another HUGE WEEK for the supernatural side of life. The cryptids continue revealing their presence -- both the cryptid creatures here, and those on the other side of dimensional curtain. This knowledge, whether accepted by science or not, sweeps across the world, and lifts humankind into a new reality.

In the near future, look for more revelations around mermaid-humans. Bigfoot-Sasquatch will continue to make minimal contact with selected individuals who are spiritually ready. And the UFOs fly, buzzing larger segments of Earth's population.

THIS FORECAST IS CONTINUED AT *TITLE MAGIC* ~titlemagic.blogspot.com~ 

 Angelic blessings from Volcano & Sedona
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Warning!!! The global elite [New World Order] does not want *you* to read this book. See ~ Powerful Dreams at my Kougar Kisses blog.

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]
~~~~~~

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

Author Discovery by BookStrand author, Lindsay Townsend.
~~~

~ HAVE A MAGICKAL WEEK ~

Kisses from Savanna Kougar...

~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance ~

Siren-BookStrand Author of ~

All Shades of Blue Paradise
[World of the Blue Pearl Moon, Book 1]

When a Good Angel Falls ~ In Print
[Winter Solstice 2012, Book 1]

Murder by Hair Spray in Gardenia, New Atlantis ~ In Print
[New Atlantis Trilogy, Book 1]

Her Insatiable Dark Heroes ~ In Print
[Chrontropolis, Book 1]

Stallion of Ash and Flame ~ In Print

Branded by the Texans ~ IN PRINT ~ A Siren-BookStrand Bestseller!
[Three Star Republic]

Kandy Apple and Her Hellhounds ~  What happens when two of Hades’ most mission-accomplished Hellhounds find just the right witch for Halloween? ~ Ebook and In Print.

Life With Baby Doll: Two Hearts Reunite

WARNING:  The links contained within this post will take you to sites with content for mature readers only.  However, this post is suitable for a PG audience.

In last week’s Life With Baby Doll installment, A Sensual Journey, I described a romantic cross-country motorcycle trip to the West Coast that John and I took during the spring of 1993.  In the fall of the same year, Baby Doll and I decided to visit the opposite side of the States, as we took a similar venture towards the Eastern Sea Board. What I remember most about each trip, wasn’t how many miles we traveled, or how many state lines we crossed, but the fact that we did it together.

Of course Interstate 40 East led us out of Little Rock, Arkansas, with a straight shot to the coast.  We visited Graceland in Memphis.  In Nashville, we saw the Ryman Auditorium (the former site of the Grand Ole Opry) during it’s renovations before it was opened as a museum in 1994.  The interstate continued through North Carolina, as we decided that state was just as good as any to travel the coast.  I don’t remember the names of all the little villages and fishing towns that we visited, but I do remember Baby Doll’s arms wrapped tightly around me, as I drove us through mists of cool sea air and past trees turning shades of orange and gold.

On our last night before heading home, I remember us walking along the coast in some little North Carolina town, oblivious to the world around us.  Barefoot in the moonlight, we played in the sea foam where it met the coastline.  Baby Doll thought it would be cute to toss water my way, drenching me in the process.  Of course he giggled, took off running, and I chased him in the dark.  I caught the sweet flamboyant boy a few hundred feet later, pulling him beneath me in the sand.  I could have made love to him there, and wanted to, except there were some other couples in the distance and a few sea side homes nearby.  Instead, I drove us back on the bike to our room at the small bed and breakfast inn, and spent the next two hours reminding him of the reason that we fell in love.

Alone in our room, I told John to shower first.  While he was in the bathroom, I remember lighting a few candles.  There were two rose buds in a vase by the side of the bed, and I crushed the petals, sprinkling them on the sheets.  Of course I am a romantic, always have been, and I find the more years that I spend with Baby Doll such feelings intensify.  The concept is amazing, as I remember thinking that night that I couldn’t be anymore in love with the gay baby naked in the next room.

After I finished in the bathroom, I found my lover curled beneath the white comforter.  I quietly joined him, blowing out the candles on the nightstand. Through the sheer curtains, there was enough moonlight, where I am sure that he could see the intentions in my green stare.  If he had any doubts, I am sure that the candlelight and rose petals had spoken for themselves.

The mind has a special way of recalling sweet and intimate memories, as I can still hear his whispered words of love, as his eyes looked up into mine. His eyes, a deep bedroom blue, darken a shade when his heart experiences passionate desire.  Not only did two bodies reunite that night, but so did the hearts of a dominate gay male and his Baby Doll.

To learn more about this series and find a recent list of archives visit:  Life With Baby Doll.  More will be added, as I continue to update my new Website. Due to the increasing popularity of these posts, I have created the permanent tab on my Website that contains information concerning the intense and passionate love affair that I share with my partner, John Jericho.

I enjoy hearing from all of my readers, and look forward to your e-mails.  Remember Love is Love…Period.

photo credit: connerdowney via photopin cc

Andrew K Kinley  is a ManLove erotic romance author for Siren-Bookstrand Publishing  and LGBTQ rights activist based in Hot Springs, AR.  All of his work can be found at:  A K Kinley. For questions or comments please e-mail him at authorakkinley@gmail.com.

New Release: CAPTURED BY TWO ALPHAS - The Alpha Legend 1

I'm so pleased to announce a new release and a new series!! CAPTURED BY TWO ALPHAS is book 1 in The Alpha Legend series!!

There are shapeshifters among us, living quietly in secluded, remote villages in the foothills of the Rocky Mountains above towns like Passion Peak, Colorado. You may occasionally see them in town, although you won't recognize their true form unless you're one of them...

Welcome to THE ALPHA LEGEND... an erotic MFM menage series featuring cougar, leopard, and jaguar shifters, consensual BDSM, and an HEA in every book. Book one - CAPTURED BY TWO ALPHAS - continues the story of Nevada Ruiz, whom you met in CHASING FELICITY - Passion Peak, Colorado 4.

Nevada lives a lonely and mysterious life in the foothills above Passion Peak. The residents think of him simply as part of the Ruiz family who sell the Legend of Sleepy Cat Peak merchandise from a permanent tent on Juniper Street in downtown Passion Peak. Nevada's grandfather, Mason, will talk your ear off about the Legend, but what most Passion Peak residents don't know is that there is more to the Alpha Legend than what they read in the Sleepy Cat brochures.

Landon is a line technician for Notus, and he identifies more with the cougar shifters than with the humans he lives among for a very good reason. The cougars saved his life when he was twelve. But if the secret he bears is ever revealed, it's not only his life that will be danger.

Saffron Estampado is a rare black leopard shifter who lives in a remote village of leopard shifters, east of Sleepy Cat Peak. When her grandmother dies, Saffron has no one to protect her from those who are trying to force her to mate in order to keep the bloodline going, so she runs from her home one morning with no clear plan, and is taken prisoner by Landon and Nevada because they don't believe her story. They believe she's in league with the same people hunting them...


BLURB for CAPTURED BY TWO ALPHAS:

[Siren Ménage Everlasting: Erotic Paranormal Ménage a Trois Romance, M/F/M, shape-shifters, light consensual BDSM, spanking, flogging, sex toys, HEA]

Leopard shifter Saffron Estampado flees her village to escape an unwanted mating with two brothers who are involved in the same evil society as her uncle, and is captured in the woods by cougar shifters Landon Sterling and Nevada Ruiz when they believe she was sent to kill them.

But the same people chasing her are after rare black cougars like Landon and Nevada, and she works hard to convince them of that. As the men realize they are both in as much danger as Saffron, they also realize they are each falling for her.

Saffron recognizes Landon and Nevada as her mates, but when the brothers to whom she was being forced to mate frame her for her uncle’s murder, her budding romance with both men is put on hold while all three enlist the help of jaguars to fight the threatening evil and clear Saffron’s name.

***BUY LINK for CAPTURED BY TWO ALPHAS***

Wednesday's Words for October 16, 2013

We have a large walnut tree at the front of our house. When we moved in, about 24 years ago, the tree wasn’t very large: a ‘seat’ formed by two big branches growing in a “Y” shape from the main trunk was almost exactly level with the railing along our front porch. The kids used to take turns sitting on that tree-chair.

Now, of course, that crotch is so high, you can’t reach it.

We used to say that the tree grew so well because we spent so much time out on that porch. We are conversationalists, my husband and I, and likely at any given moment to be talking about almost anything. Some botanists claim if you talk to plants and trees they like that and grow better. Our walnut sure did.

But it’s autumn now and this tree is the first to begin to lose its leaves. It is a long, drawn out process. As soon as the walnuts have formed, the leaves begin, one by one, to turn yellow and then drop. We have raked them all up, twice. There are still enough leaves left on the tree to incite another afternoon of raking.

Once that tree is bare, and the leaves from it raked for the final time, the maples across the street will begin to shed their leaves. Friends, I live in a place where the prevailing winds are not from the west—except, of course, when those darn maples are shedding.

We don’t rake the back yard. That piece of our property is terraced, but not evenly so. I haven’t walked up there myself for a long time, and neither has my husband. We have a neighborhood teenager who cuts the grass for us, so it’s basically not an eye sore. But it is a waste of land, because we don’t use it, and that’s a shame, but unavoidable.

My husband was busy this past long weekend, not only raking the leaves, but cleaning the plants out of the gardens that line our front walk. I was sad to see them go; it was the best year we’d ever had for our little walk-way garden. He did, however, promise me that if we purchased some more bulbs in the next couple of weeks, he would ensure they were planted.

That would be nice as I can’t tell you how many times over the last ten years I’ve bought boxes of spring flower bulbs only to have them languish, and then die.

Not being able to get out and do the gardening myself is something I dearly miss. There’s something to be said for being on your knees and having your hands in the soil. Unfortunately, my knees can no longer perform that function. So I content myself with planting my porch flower boxes than hang from the railing, and others that we have in the back yard, and then getting others to do the in-ground planting for me.

Our petunias, the ones we planted in the planters in the back yard, did wondrously well this past season. They absolutely exploded with blossoms and color. I took time nearly every day to just look at them. It’s good to have things in your life that serve no purpose other than just making you smile when you look at them.

We have a small man-made hill of rocks in the back yard, too, in one corner, atop of which we’ve made a garden. The pile, shaped like a small volcano, stands about four feet high. Backed by fencing on both sides of the corner that stretches another four feet above it, the garden we made there has some of those “solar garden lights” which we have scattered elsewhere, too. This garden was also filled with petunias, Portulaca, and some shade impatiens. Unfortunately that garden didn’t fare as well as the others. It wasn’t the lack of sun, or a lack of water, or even a lack of weeding.

It was a lack of restraint on the part of Tuffy the scruffy puppy, who apparently has found his new favorite thing, and, consequently, his very own theme song: Dean Brody’s “Dirt”.

Love,
Morgan
http://www.morganashbury.com
http://www.bookstrand.com/morgan-ashbury

Angelic Forecast ~ #267

Soon we follow a forest path, a swirl of breezes caressing our faces. As we crest a rise the scene switches. Darkness slams into my gaze and I'm staring at a Dystopian, bone-chillingly frightening scene.

Black trains, rising black smoke, ugly monster buildings surrounded by razor-wire. I grab hold of Moon Dream's neck fur as the stench of death assails us. Then, I hear the fast march of footsteps opposite our position.

"Stay," the voice of the Divine instructs. "You will both be protected."

Hauling in a breath even though I am in astral form, I face what is about to happen. Wolf Dream presses closer, and I hear her low growl.

'Omygawd,' I say mentally. Four abreast the troops appear. Not only are they identical in appearance but part machine.

Not quite like the Borg, their partial helmets are some sort of silvery device that is hooked into their brains, and likely controls their central nervous system.

Row after row of them march toward the massive steel gate of the nightmarish compound. My feet feel stuck to the ground as I watch a mighty river of these black-uniformed soldiers enter through the gate that appears to have automatically opened for them.

TO BE CONTINUED...
~~~~~~

ANGELIC FORECAST ~

The World Landscape Changes, Unraveling In a Heartbeat

As never before, the soul of humanity demands freedom. This will play out during the final months of 2013. From last week's forecast: "the '1776 uprising of the people' is here and now, and will be celebrated for generations to come." 

On the AWAKENING front, now, in the midst of societal chaos rises the art of living creatively. This is because the ART OF LIFE, of living life, is in the act of 'becoming' ... rising anew in this new-energy Aquarian Age.

At this time, the creativity of humankind begins to usurp greed as the prime motivator. A groundswell of artists will trade on their ability to be creative. Innovation becomes the middle name of many as they alter society toward the GOOD.

On the magickal, mystical front, the war against the 'human soul' explodes in the heavens spilling out onto the Earth in a cascade of torture and heinous crimes against humanity. Out of this, the Vipers expose themselves even more to the public eye. For, the spotlight of history shines with the intensity of the Divine itself.

Now, the 'Mages of Ages Lost' spread wings of glory over Mother Earth and humankind. With light blades of fierceness, they battle the dark-side serpent magicians eliminating more of their deceiving spells.

On the truth front, now comes a cataclysmic shift. The time of BARE KNUCKLE TRUTH is here. That is, many will be speaking their 'truth' with no frills -- with no sugar-coated niceness -- with 'no holds barred' verbal battles. This will be true in interpersonal relationships, on the world stage, and planet-wide with the continuing evolution-revolution of humanity.

On the personal front, a hugely dynamic week ahead for many of us. Good solutions will be applied to many situations, and progress made. However, a major hitches could arise, and may seem daunting. If you are able, put off a decision and let the situation ride for awhile. Likely, the right answer/path will become obvious.

Also, this is a great week to follow up on your dreams as far as a career or an inner calling. The stars are aligned in your favor.

As well, keep sprucing up home and hearth for the winter months ahead. Make certain you stock up and lay in supplies. The power grid could become unstable at some point, so alternative energy remains a very good investment.

On the paranormal front, *CONTACT* with ETs, other races, and Supernatural Beings is here as never before, and will only explode among the general population. For, the time has come.

This is also because the so-called 'world leaders' have become too corrupt and soul-lost. Thus, CONTACT is being made with the people -- those who are ready, willing, and able. In the future world leaders will likely claim *first contact* with ETs. However, this will be an attempt to hijack the worldwide, grassroots movement already underway.

With Halloween vibes increasing by the day, it's a spooky paranormal week ahead. Ghosts come out of the woodwork. Crypto creatures come out of their dens. There may even be a mermaid sighting or two.

THIS FORECAST IS CONTINUED AT *TITLE MAGIC* ~titlemagic.blogspot.com~ 

Angelic blessings from Volcano & Sedona
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Warning!!! The global elite [New World Order] does not want *you* to read this book. See ~ Powerful Dreams at my Kougar Kisses blog.

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]
~~~~~~

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

Author Discovery by BookStrand author, Lindsay Townsend.
~~~

~ HAVE A MAGICKAL WEEK ~

Kisses from Savanna Kougar...

~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance ~

Siren-BookStrand Author of ~

All Shades of Blue Paradise
[World of the Blue Pearl Moon, Book 1]

When a Good Angel Falls ~ In Print
[Winter Solstice 2012, Book 1]

Murder by Hair Spray in Gardenia, New Atlantis ~ In Print
[New Atlantis Trilogy, Book 1]

Her Insatiable Dark Heroes ~ In Print
[Chrontropolis, Book 1]

Stallion of Ash and Flame ~ In Print

Branded by the Texans ~ IN PRINT ~ A Siren-BookStrand Bestseller!
[Three Star Republic]

Kandy Apple and Her Hellhounds ~  What happens when two of Hades’ most mission-accomplished Hellhounds find just the right witch for Halloween? ~ Ebook and In Print.

Life With Baby Doll: A Sensual Journey

WARNING:  The links contained within this post will take you to sites with content for mature readers only.  However, this post is suitable for a PG audience.

Earlier this week, I was out running some errands.  While stopped at a red light, a Harley pulled up beside me in traffic.  I saw something that one would not normally witness in Hot Springs, Arkansas.  The male couple on the bike was openly gay.  How did I know?  Well let’s see…perhaps it was the fact that the  blonde-haired man in the passenger seat was cuddled too close to the driver.  Then I was completely convinced when I saw that same blonde kiss the back of the driver’s neck.  Smiling at their display of affection, I was reminded of the Harley that Baby Doll and I used to own almost twenty years ago.  Memories of a cross-country trip occupied my thoughts as I tried to navigate noon traffic.

When I arrived home, I told John what I  had witnessed, knowing that I would elicit that sweet smile.  He was remembering himself on a similar passenger seat, cuddled close to me, as I drove us out of Little Rock on Interstate 40 West.  Yeah, I like to drive motorcycles, particularly when I can feel the warmth of my partner against my back.

At the time I was nineteen and Baby Doll was twenty-seven, young and in love, at least four years before our first child made his entrance into the world.   Our trip took us to five states, as we made our way to the coast.  Since it was early spring, most nights we would sleep in motels right off the Interstate.  However one night, outside of Flagstaff, Arizona, we decided to sleep at a campground.  While Arizona has a desert climate, this also means that in certain areas temperatures can fall rather quickly at night.

I should  have known this, before I ever put Baby Doll in such a situation.  However he forgave me rather quickly, when I suggested that we cuddle in the same sleeping bag.  I won’t ever forget making love to  him that same night, as I held his body in my arms.  The passionate heat of our bodies, coupled with the fire we had built,  more than compensated for the change in temperature.

We did eventually make it to the coast, a romantic location right outside of Malibu, California.  I think it was called, El Matador Beach.  Parts of it were ruggedly romantic, with rock formations.  We arrived almost at sunset (yes, I was smart and checked the tide times), so I wouldn’t put Baby Doll in danger of drowning as we explored some of the sea caves and secluded coves.  Before we left, we let the tide carry our message in a bottle.  Guess it was lost at sea, or maybe fate allowed it never to be found.  Throughout the years, I’ve thought about that bottle, as I wondered where it’s journey had taken it.  Just like the bottle, our love has weathered its own journey.

Watch for next week’s Life With Baby Doll installment as I discuss our journey to the East Coast.

To learn more about this series and find a recent list of archives visit:  Life With Baby Doll.  More will be added, as I continue to update my new site. Due to the increasing popularity of these posts, I have created the permanent tab on my Website that contains information concerning the intense and passionate love affair that I share with my partner, John Jericho.

I enjoy hearing from all of my readers, and look forward to your e-mails.  Remember Love is Love…Period.

photo credit: mybulldog via photopin cc

Andrew K Kinley  is a ManLove erotic romance author for Siren-Bookstrand Publishing  and LGBTQ rights activist based in Hot Springs, AR.  For questions or comments please e-mail him at authorakkinley@gmail.com

Wednesday's Words for October 9, 2013

This coming weekend in Canada is the Thanksgiving Day weekend. Our celebration of the harvest is always the second Monday in October. We have Thanksgiving earlier than our neighbors to the south because our harvest is in earlier.

They don’t call us the great white north for nothing. By the time we reach the fourth Thursday in November—Thanksgiving in the U. S.—we are often up to our butts in that white cold slushy stuff, which I usually refer to as either pollen, or kaka.

I do recall as a kid in grade school—I’m thinking second and third grade—colouring artwork for the holiday that included pumpkins, turkeys and Pilgrims. Now, call me silly, but we Canadians didn’t have pilgrims in our historical record. They landed on Plymouth Rock, didn’t they? Well not actually on the rock, but in the harbor, which is in the United States.

But since we here in Canada co-opted your holiday, why not go all out and co-opt your imagery too?

We almost can’t help ourselves. By comparison our history seems so boring. We didn’t have a rebellion with tea tossed defiantly in the Boston harbor to begin our nation. The Dominion of Canada was created through a conference. Once confederation was agreed to, with an okey-dokey from Queen Victoria, the British North America Act, an act of the British parliament, was passed into law and signed in 1867. Before that our fledgling nation, the British Colonies, consisted of New Brunswick, Nova Scotia and Upper Canada and Lower Canada—with a group of powerful businessmen called the Family Compact thrown in as spice.

I have no idea if pilgrims are still the center of the school artwork in my country this time of year or not. I suppose it’s a moot point. I don’t know what symbolism we could incorporate that would be completely and uniquely Canadian for a holiday that, quite frankly, is not.

There are similarities between the US feast day and our own. But there are differences, too. We’re not as fervently patriotic with regard to Thanksgiving as our neighbors to the south are. We don’t have our own parades (we watch yours) or traditional football games (we watch yours). We don’t rush out and do any Christmas shopping right after (our black Friday is your black Friday), because we’re a month earlier than you with our Thanksgiving. We do have fall fairs, with candy apples, cotton candy and rides.

The similarities between Canadian and American Thanksgiving are many. Turkey is our most usual feast-day meal and yes, our dessert table features pumpkin pie. A lot of us even serve sweet potatoes as a side dish, too. My family called those candied yams when I was a kid but they weren’t yams, and our turnip isn’t turnip it’s rutabagas...I’m afraid it appears that Canadians aren’t very original, period.

Well, there is one thing that would seem to be original here, but again, it’s kind of problematic, too.

We do have Canadian bacon, but I should probably point out that if you come up here and order Canadian bacon you’ll get a blank look. Bacon is bacon and what you call Canadian bacon is actually back bacon, and not very common here at all. If you order bacon with your eggs at any restaurant that I’ve ever been to, what you get is side bacon. And, of course, there is peameal bacon, but that isn’t really bacon, either. It’s lean, cured pork loin, edged with cornmeal.

Really, the most important aspect of this holiday, as with any other, is the fellowship it encourages. Thanksgiving, more than any of the holidays we keep each year, is centered around food and family and friends—and gratitude.

Since so few of us are farmers anymore, I suppose you could say that Thanksgiving isn’t so much a celebration of the harvest in modern times as it is a celebration of our relationships with and connections to each other.

Love,
Morgan
http://www.morganashbury.com
http://www.bookstrand.com/morgan-ashbury