The Scarf

Owned by the Alpha: Manlove was a best-seller on Amazon in the LGBT Anthology Category.

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My story in Owned by the Alpha is “The Scarf”

When a teenage lioness covered in bites and blood shows up outside his office, Tru, a lone wolf and police consultant, investigates her claims that a wolf pack is sexually assaulting other shifters in Down City. Tru starts with a scarf, used to bandage the lioness’ wounds, and becomes obsessed with the scent of a fox he doesn’t know, can’t trust, but badly needs.

Selection from “The Scarf”

“Do we have the alpha?”
“No. But the lioness says he’s all over Down-City.” Uzegar reaches into his coat to bring out an evidence bag. “Had to wrestle this from her.”
“What is it?” Something sky-blue and blood-brown is inside the plastic.
“Scarf. She got help on her way out. Won’t tell us about it, but…” Uzegar scans his report. “Figure it’s a place to start.”
Joyce’s blood soaks one end of the scarf. Otherwise it’s soft and clean as I bring it to my nose and sniff. That may be the last sane thought I’ll ever have.
The scent strangles me with longing.
Fox. Cedar-rose cologne. Touch of magic. Notes of wine. Clean, deeply arousing fragrance. Not that I have a thing for foxes. Not that I would think twice about cedar-rose cologne—applied sparingly, just enough to mask the animal musk for humans—if I passed a shifter wearing it in the street. Except, if I passed this fox in the street, I’d have to haul him into the nearest dark place and fuck the shit out of him.
Uzegar doesn’t notice. “You done?”
“No.” I breathe deep at the scarf. I’m not giving this back. I need this smell. Need to hold it in my lungs until I can hold that fox. “It’s, uh, faint and … important. I need to keep the scarf.”
Uzegar shrugs. “There’s a history of wolf attacks below Tenth Street.”
I don’t care about wolf attacks. The lioness, her blood, and desperation, are a distant memory. My world has turned into the scent of a fox. He wore this scarf often. Days of his life are imprinted in the slippery silk.
Uzegar is still talking. What about?
“…sniff around Down-City. See if there’s anything to her story.”
My fox is effeminate, the type of man who wears women’s scarves. He needs my protection. Maybe he’s scared … alone. He’ll catch my scent. He’ll want me. He’ll trust me.
“Tru, you listening?”
“Uh…” My head swims and my eyes hurt from too much light. My cock throbs and I’m in awe Uzegar can’t hear my heart banging.
His eyes narrow. “You mad or something?”
Mad? Sure. Stark-raving mad. Wild-animal-who-shouldn’t-live-in-a-city mad. “No, I hear ya. I just need…”
To find and fuck this fox. Right now.

Reveiws from Goodreads:

“Wonderful fantasy world building. Great relationship development. Sex was hot and sensual.”

“The story by Longo was so original – it had the feel of an old Sam Spade crossed with a western with just a dash of steampunk or Mad Max. That’s not the story at all, just the feeling it evoked in me. Dimi and Truman are great characters and work to understand each other in the dangerous and precarious world they live in. I enjoyed witnessing their beginning.”

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