Alpha Gay Werewolves Giant Collection Who Tops A Top?

Alpha Gay Werewolves

Who Tops a Top?

Skye Eagleday

Copyright 2015 Skye Eagleday

Smashwords Edition

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Alpha Gay Werewolves

Introduction

There’s just something about werewolves that attracts an admiring crowd, isn’t there? In my childhood days of Saturday Night Monster Movies, I never found the Wolfman very interesting. He just seemed to be depressed about being who he was and losing control. And killing people. Things got better with the film American Werewolf in London, where the former Dr. Pepper spokesperson portrayed a more youthful character that actually looked like someone who was having sex. But it was really in books I started seeing the real potential of werewolves.

They were often the uber-male. They pretty much defined basic masculinity. They were aware of their own appetites, even if they sometimes fought off indulging in them. They were frequently shown as bonding for life, and were extremely protective (or possessive) of their mates. Throw in super strength and speed, and you get a proto-typical superhero. Wolfing out was also an option for Every Day Guy. Someone who was ordinary, but with a bite or a scratch—bang—you got these amazing powers and a lifelong obligation to make sure you knew what day of the month the full moon happened. Some heroes have to be smart and rich enough to invent iron-man suits, others had to be born on another planet and then get here. To become a werewolf you just need another werewolf. Just about everyone is a potential werewolf.

That’s one reason I’ve been curious to explore what happens if you’re surrounded by werewolves, but are unable to claim your own heritage. That’s a theme that comes up in my Virgin Gay Werewolf, Wolf’s Nipple, and Werebear Bang.

Taking a different doorway, Sins of Father Wolf is the first of a new series of mine where I wanted to explore the similarity of gay and werewolf. In my particular Werewolf Universe, one’s expression of sexuality and lycanthropy tends to emerge at puberty, but some take longer than others to be out there. For some, both your supernatural heritage and your sexuality are secrets to hide from the general public. For the hero of the Father Wolf series, he’s worked hard to pray the wolf away in the manner I’ve seen a lot of LGBT people doing their best to deny their reality rather than embracing it.

One of personal favorite characters from my many titles is the BBW Dominatrix, Delia. She suddenly appeared in one of the first of my Romancing the Wolf series as a competitive foil to the main character, Bree. I enjoyed her sassy presence so much I went back and did a set of pre-quels to see what Delia and Bree were like while they were college students and a few years away from entering into Werewolf Country (The Cunningham Cowboy Collection). You’ll find her in Born to Howl and Bree’s Sister: Cuff the Wolves. Romancing the Wolf and Eye of Wolf both touch on the idea same-sex behavior in the Werewolf Universe is treated as the Pink Elephant in the room. Because females are usually claimed by the Leader of the Pack, that leaves a lot of non-alphas males unattached, so they end up with each other. They explain it away as just a wolf or bonding experience, and it’s rare for an individual to identify as gay or bisexual.

When you start to explore the concepts of sexuality, it’s likely you’ll also wonder about gender identity, which makes gender-swap a good match for lycanthropy, which is how my series Me-She (my supernatural gender swap) was born. If you’re able to shapeshift from a human to a meta-human wolf to a standard four footed furry, it seems as if it would be just as easy to shift genders. As a Native American I grew up hearing about Skinwalkers who are described on our reservations with absolutely none of the romance of werewolves. Skinwalkers are said to be fur covered nightmares. But the idea did give me a different idea of how to gain the Power of the Wolf. I also like the idea of when you can gender swap, labels like gay and straight become confusing and ultimately useless.

When I started writing full time, my very first series was about my take on the Werewolf Universe where I introduced the Tales of the Werebear. In real history, several formally documented Icelandic references to werewolves and werebears exist, dating back as early as the twelfth century. This is where the term beserker comes from. According to the Free Dictionary: Our adjective comes from the noun berserker,or berserk,which is from the Old Norse word berserkr, a wild warrior or champion. Such warriors wore hides of bears, which explains the probable origin of berserkr as a compound of *bera,bear, and serkr,shirt, coat. These berserkers became frenzied in battle, howling like animals, foaming at the mouth, and biting the edges of their iron shields.

I liked the idea of introducing a character who was even more masculine and more powerful than a werewolf. I was also intrigued by the idea of how a bearish heritage on a paranormal level might include a type of hibernation where he would lose his appetites for food and sex during the winter. Like Delia, one of the secondary characters emerged that was great fun for me to discover. That would be Dallas, an ambitious potential alpha. Driven out of his home in New Orleans by Hurricane Katrina, he’s a man with a plan, aligning himself with a series of Werewolf clans to gain the experience he feels he needs to eventually lead a pack of his own.

Dallas also brings up what eventually touches on social status in the Werewolf Universe. As a big fan of Charlaine Harris’ Sookie Stackhouse series, which was adapted into the HBO series, True Blood, I was surprised how white trash the weres were shown. While in the books, the Werepanthers were isolated, their leader was portrayed as a very responsible and hard working gentleman, very different from the meth-ridden mess in True Blood. The television series also show how easy it was for werewolves to become addicted to substances, including the performance enhancing drug of choice—vampire blood.

The more I thought of this, the more I realized if a Pack Leader kept his flock wasted, it might help him avoid being challenged for his position. If your pack is stoned and happy, they are unlikely to get into pack politics. It also made me wonder how werewolves went through puberty if in doing so meant they woke up one day being strong enough to accidently kill someone. That would require teaching a lot of survival skills to an adolescent. This helped explain to me why you’d end up with many werewolves who were home-schooled or who never completed their formal education. It also made sense there would be very wealthy Old-Money werewolf families who could afford to hire private tutors to educate their young.

That’s what Dallas discovers when he arrives in Seattle and hooks up with Jax. I liked the contrast of blue-collar and social status climbing Dallas and the rich, stiff, closed-off Berstein Auge clan of Jax’s family. You’ll also find in my stories, there is no long-standing animosity between vampires and werewolves. There is a reference to Jax tricking with a vampire, who has his own stories told in Ash Before Dawn: Gay Native American Vampire Romance.

Eye of Wolf is also the first time where I was able to see what happens when you have an out and proud gay man who happens to go furry once a month. It also made me wonder if the convention is a Pack Leader who is expected to breed, what happens if he’s also gay? In re-reading the stories to decide which ones would end up in this collection, I will admit I was moved by the scene where Jax confronts his family over his sexuality.

So—here are some stories about several different flavors of werewolves I hope you’ll enjoy them all.

Virgin (Gay Werewolf)

Skye Eagleday

Joshua

I hate my life. I hate sitting in this Intro class while Professor Pugmire drones on about English composition and wanders off into these little stories of how fabulous his life is.

My father is Alpha in our Pack, and I still haven't Changed. I turned 18 in the summer and I'm a complete loser in the Supernatural community. They call me human behind my back. I may never have Changed, but there's nothing wrong with my hearing. It was one of the reasons when I was offered a scholarship I went ahead and accepted it. If I were the first null in my family, I might as well be the first one with a college degree. Null—I hated that word. Nothing—no magic inside. A freak who would never be able to shift, even though he or she was born to the right parents.

It also let me escape rural Idaho and see the world. If you count Boise as the world. Hell, it's a start. When you grow up in a community in the middle of nowhere, and you don't even have a stop light in your town, Boise State University is mind-blowing. Go Broncos!

And I'm still a friggin virgin! That's even worse than being a null. No self-respecting Pack member wants to pop the cherry of someone who hasn't Changed. I wouldn't—I'm practically ashamed to masturbate myself.

Ah, the blessed bell—now Professor Pugmire can go back to his fabulous life and I can go hide in my dorm room for a couple of hours before my next class. Yawn. The only good thing so far has been meeting Chad in the BronchoVenture Orientation. I felt really lost during those first two days, trying to keep track of what college life was going to be. I sat next to the best looking guy I could find, figuring I could always enjoy the eye candy if I got bored.

Where are you from-- he asked, after introducing himself.

Bumfuck, Idaho, I sighed. Packs usually went one of two ways—staying in isolated places so no one notices you go furry once a month. Obviously not a problem in my case, but for normal pups, the transitions when you start Changing can be rough, so it's best not to do it where a lot of humans can catch a glimpse of the Supe world. The other way is to stay near a city, but keep to yourself. Guess which one my family chose?

Chad laughed, Really?

Nah, Bumfuck is a bigger place. I'm from Sunbeam. On a clear day you can see Potato Mountain from our front porch.

There's a Potato Mountain?

You're not from Idaho, are you?

I'm from Spokane, but our family spent a lot of time in Sun Valley. I'm really into snowboarding. So, a rich kid. I should have known by the clothes. I was wearing a t-shirt from the Church Bin I got in Stanley. He was also wearing cologne I didn't recognize. But no one back home wore cologne. Even though I had never Changed, my sense of smell was better than any human's. If I were a true Wolf, I'm sure colognes would smell too strong to live with on a regular basis.

We got a stink-eye look from some official at the podium and hushed up for a few minutes.

By the end of lunch we had agreed to room together. Lucky me—an everyday look at him in his underwear. Please, God, I prayed--let him go commando as much as possible. Apparently God doesn't hear my prayers, but at least Chad just slept in his boxers. I can also see better in the dark than humans, so I spent many evenings eye raping him.

Chad

Hey—looks like you've got mail. I handed Josh an envelope that looked as if it had been hand-printed with a lot of effort and smears. I recognized the pattern from my sister who is left-handed. When lefties write, they always end up dragging their hand through the ink. Who's Parker?

He started opening it and murmured, --My dad.

I glanced down. I'm a journalism major and had spent the summer as an intern at the Spokesman-Review, where I learned two important things. First, print newspapers were in their death cycle and the future was in websites. The second was how to read upside down. That way you could always know what was in front of the person you were interviewing, or who was evaluating you. The only thing written on the letter was "Keep the Secret." I smell a story!

What's the secret? I asked, turning up my charm factor.

Nothing, he said defensively.

Josh, Josh, Josh—the only mail you've ever gotten from home and it's about a family secret? It's pretty obvious it's not about nothing.

If I tell you, it wouldn't be a secret, he said, crumpling the letter into a ball and tossing it perfectly into the wastebasket. Unfortunately, the wastebasket was full, so it ended up bouncing to the floor, next to other crap. We weren't the best when it came to housecleaning.

I sat down on the bed next to him and kicked up my charm to Nova level. I knew from experience it could melt the panties off girls. Let's make a deal, I said in a conspiratorial tone. Tell me your secret and I'll give you a kiss.

What?

Josh, I've known you were gay since we met during Orientation. I can feel your eyes on me all the time. I even started sleeping in just my boxers because I could watch you tent your pants. No biggie. So—I know you've wanted to kiss me. Here's your chance. Trade you a kiss for your secret.

Joshua

Shit, if he had offered me a blow job, I'd out every Supe in the state. I had already identified a Werepanther who was in the front row of Pugmire's class. You can always tell a Werepanther from the smell. But keeping the Secret was something we were raised with from the time we could talk. After the major massacres in the 1600s, most Supes went underground and had signed treaties to keep the Secret. There were Enforcers who took out chatty Cathy Supes—or at least, that's what we were told. I had never met one. Maybe they were our version of boogie men.

No, I said firmly. And is it that obvious I'm gay?

Well, yeah. It's like your eyes end up velcroed to every guy's crotch or ass. I think it's funny. You should join the BGLAD organization on campus. I saw they had a booth during Orientation. Meet some guys and get laid.

What's BGLAD?

Umm---Bisexual, Gay Lesbian and something with a D. Oh, wait—it was Allies for Diversity. I remember because at the time I thought they were really stretching it to make BGLAD work as an acronym.

His eyes widened. I was plotting. I'd get him really drunk on Friday night and let the alcohol float the secret out of him. Easy-Peasy. Rum and Coke are the best friends of an investigative reporter.

Joshua

Well, looks as if I'm shit for brains in terms of keeping the second biggest Secret of my life. At least Chad seems cool with my being gay. "Hmm, I thought, Maybe if I get him drunk enough on Friday night, he'll get bi-curious. If that doesn't work, a few more drinks and I can do whatever I want to with him passed out." Ah, alcohol is a shy pervert's best friend.

You're straight, right-- I went ahead and put it out there.

Labels are so twentieth century, he laughed. But I've never done a dude. One time in Sun Valley, the Snowboard Instructor sucked me off, though.

Jesus, Christ. Apparently even straight guys have more gay sex than me. I hate my life.

Whoops, Chad said, jumping up, I'm gonna be late for my class. We'll talk more about this later. Then he was gone. I wondered what it was like to go snowboarding. I could sure use an instructor—with benefits. I wondered about the BGLAD thing, but I wasn't quite ready to walk around campus with a big pink G stamped on my forehead right after I got here. I always thought being gay meant you had to sneak around about it.

I picked up the tossed letter from the floor. I locked the door and went to go buy a bottle of booze for Friday night and stuffed my dad's warning into the big garbage can by the main entrance. One of the best parts of the Orientation was having an upperclassman host explain to us the places you could go without getting carded.

Chad

What secrets do they have in Bumfuck, Idaho? I hope it was juicy and not just an ick thing where