Welcome a special Eye Candy Day with Guest Silvia Violet

Today I am turning my blog over to my lovely and wickedly talented author friend, Silvia Violet. So without further adieu....join her as we celebrate her new book at Changeling Press, Paws on You.

These pictures served as inspiration for my bear shifter tale, Paws on Me. This story is my third contribution to the amazing mulit-author series, Protect and Serve.

 

Protect and Serve: Paws on Me by Silvia Violet

Buy Link: http://changelingpress.com/content.php?utype=note&uid=5326

Available October 27!

Blurb:

Lieutenant Seth Morrison loves being a cop, but with budget cuts and crime both on the rise, he's stopped making time for anything but his job.

On the outside, Brandon Lord is an easy-going, flirtatious club owner. On the inside he's a man trying to overcome a difficult past.

When a murder investigation brings the two men together, passion roars to life. They're both willing to break the rules to be together. Because as mismatched as they might seem, each man is exactly what the other needs.

Excerpt:

I’m Seth Morrison. I’m a cop, a police lieutenant to be precise. I’ve been on the force more years than I want to think about. I’ve seen good men get killed, turn dirty, lose themselves in the bottle, lose their fucking minds, but I’m still here doing what I do. I don’t know any other life. People tell me I need a break, a vacation, to relax. I don’t want to fucking relax. I just want to do my job and keep this city from falling apart.

I park my car, grab my coffee from the cup holder, and charge up the front steps of the station. I could take the side door, it’s closer to my office, but I love the chaos of the bullpen. When I open the door, I breathe deeply, enjoying the variety of smells: coffee that’s been on the warmer far too long, the sickeningly sweet smell of candy and doughnuts, pine-scented cleaner from the scrubbing the janitors gave the floors last night, and something unnamable that simply smells like cops and hard work. I shake my head as I try to imagine not being here nearly 24/7. This is where I belong.

My stomach rumbles. I should’ve had dinner, but after pretending an afternoon nap was a night’s sleep, I’m running late. I’ll grab something from the vending machine while I dream about a juicy burger and thick home fries. It sure would be nice to have someone cook for me. I don’t seem to get along with stoves. Years ago, I tried being married. That worked for about 30 seconds. My wife wanted me to work shorter hours. I wanted her to talk less, or maybe never.

Friends tell me I should make an effort to date, but I’m more comfortable at a gruesome homicide scene than making small talk at dinner with a woman or a man. Yeah, I like both. I stopped going out with men when I entered the academy. I just couldn’t deal with the shit the guys would give me. Now, I don’t advertise what I like, but I pick up a guy now and then. I’m discreet, but if somebody finds out, I’ll deal.

One night stands I can handle, but relationships are beyond me. People think police work is draining, but I’d rather spend all day in the field and all night at my desk filling out fucking paperwork – and often I do – than try to decode relationship signals. I inevitably screw things up and never understand why. Sex I need. Romance I don’t.

My phone rings. I pull it out of my pocket hoping the call will save me from the mountain of paperwork on my desk. It’s Drew Danvers, detective and vampire. That’s right a vampire who works for the good guys. We’ve got a werewolf in homicide too. And he’s a damn fine cop.

I remember when the shifters came out of the closet scaring the hell out of us humans. One by one other monsters made themselves known. Most people assumed they were all assholes who wanted to eat us, but I quickly learned not to judge a man because he sucked blood or turned into a wolf. I judge men based on how they treat others.

I answer the call. “What’s up, Detective?”

“Two dead werewolves found in a closet at Shift. Hacked up pretty bad. The scene’s a circus. Jenkins called in sick. I’m on my own, and-“

“I’ll be there in ten.”

“Thanks, sir.”

“No problem. Murder scene or paperwork, which would you choose?”

He laughs, and I hang up.

Ten minutes later, almost to the second, I pull into the parking lot of Shift, a shifter club in the river district. The area was up and coming several years ago, before the economy went to hell. Now crime is on the rise, and if things don’t turn around, it’ll soon revert to the shithole it used to be.

I step inside the club. A crime lab team is there and several uniformed officers are talking with employees. I spot Drew in the entryway of an office. He’s frowning as he questions a tall, hairy, hunk of a man. I’ve seen this man around the area several times, and just like every other time, he makes my cock sit up and take notice. The first time we met, I was out on another call and a riot broke out when a werewolf with too much attitude got kicked out of Shift. I helped break up the fight and ended up pulling a guy off Brandon.

Our most recent encounter was a week ago. When I want to grab a beer and be left the fuck alone, I go to Mitch’s, a dive just down the street from Shift. Last time I spent the evening there, he sat next to me at the bar and came on strong. I was in a shitty mood. I wanted him, and it pissed me off. He’s not my type. He’s young, hip, and outrageously flirtatious. I walked away, but I regretted it later that night when I couldn’t stop fantasizing about him.