Blind Heat Release Day and Giveaway


A woman who can’t remember. A shifter who refuses to be forgotten. “Blind Heat” by @nara_malone now available!

It’s finally here, the sequel to the Tiger’s Tale. You asked for it, wonderful readers, and I have finally delivered–it’s release day for Blind Heat, the second book in the Pantherian Passions series. It’s a big read with lots of adventure, Passion, and romance. Wonderful paranormal romance author, Siobhan Muir is hosting me today over at The Weird, the Wild, and the Wicked blog. Drop by to learn more about Blind Heat and comment to get into the drawing for a copy of the first book in the Pantherian Passions series, The Tiger’s Tale.

Side note: I am still working on opening the Pantherian virtual World of Pantheria at Kitely. Major technical issues, but I hope to unlock the portal later this afternoon or this evening and set that link live..


Blind Heat

I have the cover art for Blind Heat. Yep, I’ve got some hot PanTherian Shifters coming your way. It won’t be long to the release now. I’ll put up the date when I know.




I was a cog
held in my place by invisible screws,
there to fix a machine,
not you.

You were a secret
someone forgot to put away.
Our connection
landed reprimands in personnel files.
Changed nothing.

Had you ever seen the sky?
Tasted hope’s promises?
Been hugged?
I hope not.
I can’t forget your eyes.


This post is a response to G-Man’s Friday Flash 55 challenge. Drop by to see what others wrote, or to join the fun yourself.

Seducing the Ice Queen

Ice queen

1. Her

Is this all you’ve got?

2. You

You contemplate renegade eyes,
behind frosty veil–
lost reality rising.

3. By the Rules

They filled the bill.
Paid the bill.
Dared nothing more.
Propriety unchallenged.
Desire’s frozen wasteland.

4. Conflicted

Be comfortable companions,
respecting armored egos,
playing sex safe.


Break through faux love’s cliched embrace,
icebound style guide’s five-fingered vice.

5. Dipping the Pen

Tongues slicing attached strings,
parachutes abandoned.
Writing naked–
bodies cursive strokes,
free-falling into linen winterscape.

6. You

Burn through block like a torch.
Untamed, teeth bared,
pen dripping.

7. Her

Torch me.
Be my spring.


***Because I’ve been battling brain freeze this week. Because there’s nothing that gets my juices flowing like a bunch of rules to bend as far as I can without breaking. Because I wanted to make something new out of something old. I took a shot at symmetrina– another bent rule because it’s a flash fiction form, not poetry. And symmetrina haz got rulez: it has to be written to a rising and falling incremental word count, the incremental number has to appear in the story, specific rules dictate which POV gets used in each section, and it all has to hang together as a story. Titles don’t count in the word counts.

A good explanation can be found here if you’re interested, or feeling desperate 🙂

this post is part of dVerse open link night.


cheetah face woman

She was patchwork
She was
poly cotton
implanted id
She was volatility merged with chaos
She’s why
neither borrower nor lender should humans be

She was gourmet blended DNA
She was
She was manufactured mammal no one had a taste for
She’s why
neither borrower nor lender should humans be

She was hope in a hopeless form
She was
too animal to be human
too busy clawing her way into her humanity to care
too human to let our disapproval matter
too full of life to die
She will test our humanity through her existence
She’s why
neither borrower nor lender should humans be


*image credit: cheetah face woman by dreamglowpumpkincat210, on Flickr

Fathomless Love

Seals Tank

1. Liquid Letters

She haunts the black cliffs by day, walks the shore at night. Memories cocoon parched heart. Reality shredding hope as jagged rocks shred surf.

Seven tears cast upon the ocean, one for each year she’s waited. Encrypted pheremones and DNA. Her love letter. A summons wrapped in white caps, delivered via Poseidon’s pony express. A Love endangered, bouyed by watery dreams.

Beast summoned from sea. Man summoned from beast.

2. Riptide

He rides the surf in after the first sunset of the spring.
Tongues tangle, limbs entwine on first contact, every minute precious, measured in undulant beat of bodies braided with swirling sand and foam.

Seal song rising, a duet of sighs and moans. His luminous eyes plumb the depths of her heart, perceiving his woman’s desires. Nimble tongue uncovers cached pearl, as easily as his sleek form plumbed sea.

3. Remittance

Burning through 364 weeks of missed passion in twelve hours, parting as the first crescent of sun peers over earth’s rim. He’s gone with the turning tide.

Lonely nights and a nursery full of dark-haired children, born seven years apart. Babes who swim before they can walk, never talk, but speak their love with soulful eyes and wordless song. This the price she pays to be the selkie’s wife.


***This sixty-niner threesome posted as a contribution to dVerse open link night. Inspired by this week’s research,—legends I found  as haunting and disturbing  as  seal songs.. Guess what my next story is about.

I Turned Into a Wolf Today

* Howling at the Moon * 

I became a wolf today, escaped my concrete cage. And rules, those choke collars uncountable as leaves, I stripped them from my life.

Would you do it? Could you shed that suburban skin taped around you like a cardboard mask? What beast do you keep buried deep under your bones like pirate treasure?

I brought my wolf out and landed for the first time on four paws, toes curling into the cool, moist earth. Sabled stalks swayed and crackled as I crept from the lowlands of politics and property and up the tree feathered slopes of the highest mountain I could find, seeking the frost line, leveling up from the land of tiny paychecks and monster mortgages to the top– to nothing but frost-laden air to fill my lungs and the territorial cry of an eagle leaving her nest to patrol the lake below.

I hoped I’d traded candle light dinners and polite lovemaking on satin sheets for a wilder blend of chase-me-through-the-woods and tumble-me-in-the-snow. I craved love nuanced with rogue licks and nips, spiked with a bite here and a scratch there, backed up by the music of growls and whimpers.

From the mountain’s peak, I contemplated the comforts I gave up, but I was distracted when the sinking sun turned ocean mists to fiery fog and waves to curling flames. I enjoyed the fire show until night blanketed flames and the wind set surf thundering against cliffs, thrumming like the earth’s heartbeat, vibrating in my bones and belly, lifting the first feral howl from my soul as the moon rose.

When the last echoes died, I listened for an answer in baritone. Breathless, I waited to discover if I was the lone wolf. Or was there another Therian soul who had traded living large for living?

~Nara Malone

Image: * Howling at the Moon * by pareeerica, on Flickr

Wishing all a Happy Valentines day 🙂