by Cynthia Sax
Cover art: Bryan Keller
ISBN: 978-1-60521-476-4
Genre(s): Paranormal, Humor & Satire
Theme(s): Shapeshifters, BBW, Men and Women in Uniform
Series: Protect and Serve
Length: Novella
http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1452
Blurb:
My name is Officer Drake. I'm genetically enhanced to be the best damn policeman there is. I can snap a werewolf in two. I can outrun a car. That's not boasting. Those are the facts.
I'm designed to protect and serve, and when I spot a plush little bunny shifter by the name of Hunny Lapin, that is exactly what I do. I protect her from a strip club owning vampire and serve up her every desire in bed. 'Course, that lands me in a whole heap of trouble, but it's nothing I can't handle. I'm a supercop, remember?
Excerpt:
Protect and Serve: Badge Bunny
Cynthia Sax
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2010 Cynthia Sax
This e-book file contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language which some may find offensive and which is not appropriate for a young audience. Changeling Press E-Books are for sale to adults, only, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.
"When was the last time you got laid, Drake?" This is my partner's idea of clever conversation. Shoot me now. To clarify, that isn't partner in the sexual sense. Hell no, I don't swing that way and even if I did, I'd never be that desperate. We're cops. Wright's got my back, most times, when he isn't juggling two exotic dancers on his lap.
When was the last time I got laid? When was the last time Wright groped a waist wider than a toothpick? Two dancers are needed to fill up the man's lap. I eye their skinny bodies with disinterest. It would take five of those chicks to satisfy my larger appetite.
I'm a big guy. I prefer to play with women my own size. That means yummy mommies with hand-filling curves, not little girls with pokey elbows and ribs I can count.
"Fuck off, Wright." I sip my scotch. The other undiscerning dickheads come here after hours for the tits and ass. I come here for the drinks. The Fox Hole doesn't water down their alcohol like other strip bars do.
"There's your answer." Sarge laughs like a hyped-up hyena shifter. Before you give him respect he doesn't deserve, his rank isn't sergeant. The asshole just acts like one, barking out orders any sensible cop will ignore if he wants to stay alive. "You know, Drake, you'd get lucky more often if you didn't act like such a scary son-of-a-bitch." Sarge pats down his lap mate. I've seen him handle his gun with more passion than he's touching his nearly nude stripper. "Hell, even the badge bunnies leave you alone, and they'll do anyone in uniform."
I grunt at his piss poor advice. It doesn't warrant a proper response, and for your information, I don't act. I am a scary son-of-a-bitch -- genetically enhanced to be the best damn policeman there is. I can snap a werewolf in two -- those furry buggers are notoriously hard to subdue. I can outrun a car, even one jacked up on rocket fuel. I sniff the recycled air. I can smell strawberries in a room full of sweat, pussy, and cum.
I turn my head slightly. There she is. Golden brown hair frames a round face dominated by a pair of big brown eyes and a twitching nose. That's a woman. Hunny Lapin -- despite her porn star name -- is everything I consider fresh and clean and wholesome. What's she doing here? I have no idea. I've seen her before so I know she isn't lost.
She sure doesn't fit in though. Why? She's fully clothed, for one. Her plush body is clad in a fluffy pink sweater and a knee-length skirt. For another, she starts at every loud noise. This is ridiculous as she's in a strip bar, not a library. The tone-deaf DJ throws on a new hip-hop song and she jumps. Naked bodies smack together as they tend to do in strip bars and she trembles. Krag Fox's men holler at each other, and she flinches.
Meatheads are positioned at all doors tonight. Someone is in deep shit. I'd step in and ensure this someone doesn't die a slow and painful death in one of the vamp's backrooms. But this is the Fox Hole. Anyone here I'll end up either arresting or killing. Fox, bless his non-beating heart, is simply doing my job for me.
The scent of strawberries intensifies and a wave of horniness engulfs me. Hunny is hurrying this way. She doesn't glide like some high-class chicks do. She bounces and all body parts -- I drop my gaze -- I mean all body parts bounce with her. Damn, she has a fine pair of breasts. I lick my lips, hungry for a taste.
Some men claim that more than a handful is a waste. I think they're full of shit. The bigger, the better, and Hunny's pair are at the top of my big breast list. They're even finer because they're real. One blast of cold air and those nipples can be listed as deadly weapons. They also jiggle when she jiggles, which is what she was doing now. I'd sit back and enjoy the show except every so often she fervently glances behind her at Fox's approaching goons. The girl is in trouble. Help me, she mouths. Those brown eyes widen with fear.
This is none of my damn business. I recognize that. I don't know her and if she messed with Fox bad enough to warrant a death sentence, she can't be as sweet and innocent as she appears. But I'm trained to protect, and Hunny needs my protecting. The cop genes kick in. I pull her onto my lap so she straddles me – panty-covered pussy to pant-covered cock. I grow hard 'cause I'm human. Soft angora rubs against my face. The pastel pink sweater, as nice as it feels, unfortunately has to go. Fox's men can spot it a mile away. I yank it upward over her head and drop it on the permanently sticky floor.
"Whoa, Drake." Wright gawks at me, his big mouth open. "It was just a suggestion. I didn't expect you to get laid right here."
http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1452
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