Stallion of Ash and Flame (MF)

Siren-BookStrand, Inc.

Heat Rating: Sizzling
Word Count: 57,672
6 Ratings (4.7)

[Siren Classic: Erotic Paranormal Romance, Shape-shifters]

Drojovv Zyan is a man-stallion of ash and flame. He's on a mission to save his world's crucial Earth portal from the fires ravaging the National Forest surrounding it. Pretending to be a tracker named Trail, he settles in a small Southeastern Arizona town. When he gets an eyeful of the beautiful ranch owner, Seneca, he stud-lusts after the Earth human, a woman he's not supposed to take as his Mate.

Trail leaves her alone until her brother is in a bad motorcycle accident and she needs a hired hand. Soon both of them are threatened by a horde of enemies, especially the aliens who plan to rape Earth of its gold and are determined to use amulets only Seneca can touch.

Trail must protect Seneca at all costs. His world depends on it, her world depends on it. And his heart comes to depend on it.

"The moment Trail sauntered into my writer's imagination, looking like a gorgeous half-breed cowboy, I knew what he wanted: to tell his love story with an Earth woman. I also knew what he was, a shape-shifting stallion, who had a flame form and an ash form that he used to stop the forest fires threatening his world's portal with Earth."

A Siren Erotic Romance

Stallion of Ash and Flame (MF)
6 Ratings (4.7)

Stallion of Ash and Flame (MF)

Siren-BookStrand, Inc.

Heat Rating: Sizzling
Word Count: 57,672
6 Ratings (4.7)
In Wish List
Available formats
Cover Art by Jinger Heaston
Professional Reviews

5 ANGELS: "...Savanna Kougar fans will find [Stallion of Ash and Flame] a wonderfully scorching hot read that definitely rates 5 Angels. In typical Kougar form, the plot is rich in detail, original and imaginative. The main characters are well developed, often amusing and very likeable. All you Kougar fans are in for a treat with this one, so buy and enjoy." -- Merrylee, Fallen Angel Reviews

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Trail rapped his knuckles on the splintery wood of the ranch house’s front door, and made a mental note to replace it. The instant Seneca moved to answer, he gathered her fragrance into his nostrils, then let the blazing rose and gingery spice of her womanly flesh course through him. He suppressed his urge to breathe in her scent more fully. He’d decided to help her and, at the same time, make his cover on Earth look real.

Trail had admired Seneca from afar, mainly at the Saturday night dances in town. Despite the raging bulge of his cock every time he did catch sight of her, he knew she was not a woman to give a man a one-night tumble, so he’d always respected her aloofness toward him.

Even now, his balls ached to give her a mounting she’d always remember. One that would make her call out his name, his real name, Drojovv. One that would make her summon him when he ran as stallion, the way of lovers in his realm.

His was an equine shifter world more advanced in technology than present-day Earth.

Since the time of Deluge, after the catastrophic sinking of Atlantis, Earth and his planet-world had been connected by a portal, many of them now. The first portal had been created by renegade Atlantean scientists looking for other worlds to inhabit.

Down, stud, he commanded himself. You’re only here to help a mare in need.

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.”

“Trail, is it?” She stepped outside, letting the door slam closed. Raising her chin, she eyed him almost fiercely and crossed her arms beneath her plump perky breasts. Hell, she rarely wore a bra, and now her nipples poked her flannel shirt, he knew not for him. The morning chill hadn’t been dispelled by the sun’s ferocious heat yet.

“Yes, ma’am. That’s my handle.”

“Why Trail?” Her tone interrogated him, even though her brows rose revealing her curiosity.

“End of the—” He paused, hoping for an amused glint in her eyes. Nothing. “As in, end of the trail.” Still nothing. “This is where I make my home, end-of-the-trail,” he added.

Trail had the wild urge to grab off his hat and finger the brim nervously like he’d seen in the old western movies he’d watched over and over. Yep, a filly like her would sooner kick his flanks, then race past him. That is, unless he minded his manners.


Her voluptuous dark pink lips formed an O. Trail caught himself wondering if she would respond to him like Maureen O’Hara had to John Wayne when he’d hauled her over his lap and given her ass a good blistering. Or when he’d seized her against him and forced a kiss on her fighting lips.

Stop, he warned himself. Stop thinking like that.

“Well, if Mandy thinks you’re okay, it might work.


Wanting her entirely at his mercy before he hauled her off to her bedroom, he seized her butt cheeks, lifting her so she wrapped her beautifully shaped legs around him and pressed her hot plump sex more snugly against his shaft.

“Oh, god,” she whimpered. “Your cock feels hard as steel.” She strained, riding up and down his length as she could. “And hot as blazes.”

“Blazing and ready for you,” he growled like a mindless heathen.

“God, I hope you make it good.” She paused, her untamed little pants singeing his neck. “I couldn’t stand it if—”

“Better than you’ve ever had,” he promised. Lowering his head, he seared his mouth down her breastbone until he nipped kisses over the warm apple-round swells of her breasts. God, he had to have her completely naked soon.

She arched back, her hands clinging to his upper arms, offering her breasts. Forcing her top downward with his chin, he planted frenzied kisses on as much of her bare skin as he could reach. He nibbled wildly over her succulent perfect curves. She tasted divine, and she tasted of Earth’s fire, different than how the flames of his world tasted.

“Nipples,” she moaned. “Please.” Utterly impassioned, she clamped her thighs like a vise and bowed her back even more, thrusting her pebble-hard nipples toward his mouth.

Strongly, he nuzzled around the peak of one breast. She whimpered loudly, straining to shove her nipple between his lips. He bit through the cloth with his lips, then laved the elongated bud with his tongue, completely saturating her shirt with his saliva, his hunger. Hell, he loved her tits. And he planned to feast on their sexy delights often. Gripping her nipple with his teeth, he tugged, demanding her pleasure.

“Oh, god, Trail...yes.” She strained as he continued teasing her aroused flesh, wanting only more of what he gave her. “Bite me, please.”

His fierce little filly, Eros, yes. He clenched her teat with his teeth. She keened loud moans, tightly bouncing her sex, her hiarrus in his language, on the middle of his cock. He bit down harder. She whimpered long and soft, forcing her clit against his shaft.

“Don’t let go,” she begged. He pulled on her teat keeping his teeth clamped on the huge erotic bud as he licked the end with the flicking movement of his tongue. “Yes.” Ecstasy claimed her voice. Her hiarrus swelled around the shape of his cock, and her clit jerked, a tiny sensation that throbbed his brutally engorged shaft. “Let me come...please.”

She’d spoken desperately, as if he would deny her.

He squeezed her ass roughly and held her on his cock. He trapped her nipple with the savagery of his teeth and pulled her teat until she squealed with relentless pleasure. Quickly, she swooned backwards, her orgasm claiming her body. Releasing her nipple, he caught the middle of her back and watched her orgasm rip up her face. Her features softened. Her skin glowed pearlescent, and her eyelids appeared nearly transparent.

God, he loved her.

He closed his own eyes for a split second. He’d known all along he’d fallen hoof over mane for her. The truth he’d allowed to emerge from deep inside himself didn’t exactly surprise him. Yet—

It did.

His race wasn’t supposed to fall in love with an Earth woman. Lust, yes. A passionate affair and true caring, yes.

Not love. Not this love from his soul. Not this rapid, all-consuming beat of his heart for her.


He had no time to understand why. He knew they, the operatives, in the van still listened.

He didn’t care.

There was only her.

There was only mating her.

For now, there was only what they shared.

“Trail.” Her thread-thin voice wrapped around his core. “Take me. Lay me on the floor and use that large hard cock of yours to impale me.” She moved a bit, as if she would rise up to him. “Please.”

Eros gods despise him, as if he wanted to do anything else. He knelt with her, placed her on the thick braided rug carefully, and practically tore away her t-shirt as he removed it from her. She moaned as the air hit her sexually heated flesh. And she moaned, he knew, because she’d gone partially into shock over what had occurred between them and what would occur.

No, his Seneca had never even suspected this would happen. She had been used to denying herself, used to denying every male who wanted her. For a long time now.

Gazing at her luscious breasts, he untied the drawstring of her pants, then watched her instinctively hug herself and shiver. He jerked downward, whipping them off her. He already knew she’d worn no underwear, not as an enticement. For her, it was a matter of comfort. Her flaming copper curls threw him for a carnal loop. He hesitated, staring. He wanted to dive his nose in and taste every fold and crevice of her, taste every drop of her fiery female musk. He wanted to feel her hiarrus with his lips, his tongue, his face.

Later, he promised himself as he grabbed his t-shirt, shedding it in one swift motion. His cock would never forgive him if he didn’t do what she’d asked for. He pulsed hard, his shaft threatening to explode with cum. Hell, he wanted to fuck her, to impale her, his need  utterly primitive. He unzipped his jeans gingerly, shoving them downward as he stood up. Not surprisingly, his mating seed thickly covered the head of his shaft.

He kicked out of his jeans, staring at her naked beauty. Neither one of them had bothered with shoes. Frozen as an untried stud, he merely looked upon her, captivated by the incredible round beauty of her womanly curves, and by the extreme indentation of her lovely waist. Still, she was athletically strong like the warrioress women-mares of his world.

The sharp contrast of her copper-fire tresses against her creamy golden skin had him falling to his knees before her. She parted her thighs, an invitation, and he swept his greedy gaze over the voluptuous shape of her long inner thighs. His paradise. Not only now, but eventually when she wrapped her legs around him and rode him as stallion. As she would, once they were mated.

God, he wanted that.

“Seneca.” He gazed into her sky eyes, into the dark and light of her emotions. She was frightened, yet her raging desire for him overcame her fear. “Give me your palms,” he encouraged.

She placed her hands on either side of her head, watching intensely as he lowered himself above her. He captured her palms with his, enjoying her little smooth hands in mating union with his. Nudging her thighs wider with his knees, he aimed his heavy straining cock.

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