Friday, April 01, 2011

Protect and Serve: Savage Wolf by Silvia Violet

Protect and Serve: Savage Wolf

by Silvia Violet

Cover art: Bryan Keller

ISBN: 978-1-60521-610-2
Genre(s): Paranormal, Humor & Satire, BDSM
Theme(s): Werewolves, Shapeshifters, Men and Women in Uniform
Series: Protect and Serve
Length: Novella

I'm Wolf, Officer Aidan "Wolf" Savage. I'm a werewolf. But unlike most of my kind these days, I'm one of the good guys even if I do scare the hell out of most people the first time they meet me. When a white-tailed deer shifter comes leaping into my life, she makes my body hotter than an erupting volcano. She's on the run, and she doesn't want my help. But I'm not about to let her get herself killed, and I'll use any means necessary to keep her safe.

Protect and Serve: Savage Wolf

Silvia Violet

All rights reserved.

Copyright ©2011 Silvia Violet

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.

01 Wolf's Blog

I'm Wolf, Officer Aidan "Wolf" Savage. I'm a werewolf. But unlike most of my kind these days, I'm one of the good guys even if I do scare the hell out of most people the first time they meet me.

I'm a damned good cop. If I'm tracking a criminal, he doesn't stand a chance of getting away. I love the chase, the takedown, the chance to be scary-as-hell, but there's one thing I hate about this job: stakeouts.

That's what tonight is all about, sitting in a hot, muggy car, eating doughnuts and watching the woods for signs of life. Man what I wouldn't give for a beer right now. And a warm house and a warm woman. OK, that train of thought isn't doing a damn thing for me. Because my partner and I are stuck right here, until we see something, or the sun comes up.

Jacobson, my partner, crushes his paper coffee cup and tosses it in the bag that serves as a trashcan. "I so don't want to do this shit tonight."

I don't think his comment deserves a response so I take a sip of my own coffee, which is damn near empty too.

Jacobson stares hard at the fence outside his window. "Do you actually think we're going to see anything? Anyone could have dumped those bodies by the park. Why would they come back now?"

We're parked along the outer perimeter of City Park. In its heyday it was a place for city residents to relax, have a picnic, get some exercise, and remember what trees actually looked like. When the economy went south, the city stopped maintaining it. Now it's an overgrown eyesore used primarily by the homeless, drug addicts, and kids looking for a thrill.

The department is constantly getting complaints about the vermin that thrive in the undergrowth, both animal and human. But recently, the volume of calls about trouble in the park has increased, and two teenagers were found dead at the park's northern gates last night. They'd been shot, execution style.

I take another sip of coffee before responding to Jacob's questions. "We've had too many complaints and none from the usual suspects. Something's up."

"Gang initiation?" Jacobson suggests.

I shake my head. "I don't think so."

His eyes narrow. "You smell something, don't you?"

I nod. Under the smells of sex, beer, and greasy food, there's an odd chemical odor. I can't place it, but I'm certain it doesn't belong in the park. It hadn't been there a few months ago when I'd pulled the short straw and been sent to run off a bunch of kids who'd come out here to party.

Before I can describe the smell to Jacob, I hear distant footsteps pounding the pavement. "Someone's running this way. Someone fast."

Jacob nods. I doubt he can hear a thing, but he's learned to trust my non-human ears without question. A few seconds later, a woman comes into view. She's wearing a sundress and a pair of high-heeled sandals so I doubt she's running for her health. Not that any sane woman would be in this part of town at night.

She has straight, reddish brown hair that swings past her waist. Her heavy round breasts are barely contained by her dress. Long shapely legs reach out for the ground, making my cock sit up and say hello. Her strides are so long she's practically leaping.

She's moving faster than any human should be in shoes like that. The wolf inside begs me to chase her for the sheer thrill of apprehending such a hot piece of flesh. But my cop instincts tell me this woman is our key to what's actually going on in the park.

Jacobson reaches for the door handle, but I lay a hand on his arm, stopping him. "Not yet."

"She's not out for an evening jog, Wolf. Someone's chasing her."

"Exactly. And we need to know who and why."

Jacobson frowned. "While letting her get killed in the process?"

I know my partner's right to protest, but my instincts tell me to take the risk.

The whine of a motorcycle engine grows louder. The woman runs past us and reaches the entrance to the park at the end of the block. The motorcycle driver guns his engine. He's only a block away. I watch as he pulls out a gun.

"Now?" Jacob asks.


We exit the car and scale the fence, dropping down into the park, making our way through the thick undergrowth until we see the path. The motorcycle turns into the park and blows past us.

The woman darts into the woods up ahead. As she disappears, I swear I see the upraised white tail of a deer.

The driver fires a shot into the woods. Jacobson raises his gun and aims for the bike's tires. He misses. My heart pounds. If my instincts were wrong, if this woman died because I hesitated, I'll never forgive myself.

Suddenly an enormous stag leaps out of the woods directly in the motorcycle's path. The driver swerves. The bike falls on its left side, crushing the driver under it, as it skids to a stop.

My werewolf speed brings me to the carnage ahead of Jacobson, I touch the driver's neck, checking for a pulse. Nothing. He's dead.

I turn toward Jacobson and shake my head. The deer lies several feet ahead, his legs twitching. I ready my gun to put him out of his misery, but I stop cold when his scent hits my nostrils.

Jacobson reaches for his weapon. "Shouldn't we --"

I hold up my hand signaling him to stop. "He's a shifter." I start to tear off my uniform, preparing to shift. Now I know why I'd seen a white tail disappear into the woods. The long legs, the hair the color of a deer's fur, the superhuman speed. Our runner's no more human than I am. I turn to Jacobson. "Call this in and get us some backup. I'm going after the woman."

"Wait," he calls, but I'm already in my lupine form. I breathe in the scents of the night, damp leaves, warm earth, a few rodents. Then I catch her scent, deer mixed with the delicious musk of sweaty human female. My wolf salivates, eager for a chase.

I keep my nose low to the ground until the scent grows stronger. My ears prick. I can hear her breathing. I'm close. So close. She's hiding, but I know I'll flush her out. I wait for several long seconds.

She bursts from a tangle of bushes twenty feet or so ahead. And the chase is on. I tear after her, my wolf rejoicing in the freedom to run, to chase, to catch. But while my wolf is hungry for deer meat, my human side is hungry for this female in a whole different way.

I'm closing in. Her scent surrounds me. Sweat and fear and... whoa... sex. Bambie is as turned on by the chase as I am. Maybe this interrogation is going to be a whole lot more fun than I'd imagined.

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