Attitude by Varzen Dralmort & A. Kita

Attitude by Varzen Dralmort & A. Kita

Artwork and Illustrations by Stephanie “Ifus” Johnson

When does home stop feeling like home?
 
Darrin Elvis Addison is the man of the Century, loyal to a fault to his hometown’s traditions, and a brazen fixture at Mahoney’s one good greasy spoon—making flapjacks and horseshoes for all the town’s hungry denizens and trying not to think too often about the one great love he truly lost. But when three suburbanites from upstate descend on this hyena’s rustic ex-railroad town like locust to wreck his life, his trouble’s just beginning.
 
And theirs too, as unsettling events and troubling rumors start to tear Mahoney apart.

Attitude, the second book in Varzen Dralmort and A. Kita’s Mahoney Trilogy, won't just continue and extend that tradition of sharp, modern writing and provocative sex that began with Gratitude, but also will playfully turn a few tropes of Furry’s favorite genre on their heads.

In Darrin's trailer, the angry fox-kid on the sofa ignored Bucky as he padded self-consciously through and back towards Darrin's bedroom, to "work" on the hyena's computer.

Darrin's scent haunted the bedroom, lending the ostentatiously postered walls and surprisingly primly kept bed a sense of austerity. Rubbing his fingertip lightly over the computer’s on button like a nipple and then turning on the monitor, Bucky found the desktop cluttered still with those links to double-penetration videos online. He double-clicked one, then closed the bedroom door, activating a few antispyware programs on Darrin's computer to provide plausible deniability if interrupted.

And then noticed the hamper, with some sex-rumpled bed sheets on top ...

Underneath, Bucky found a pair of Darrin’s wrinkled jeans and held them against his muzzle. "Guh," he uttered, slack-jawed. And then, in what seemed like a moment of inspiration, he started rummaging through the dirty clothes in the hamper, looking for socks.

But apparently Darrin only put his feet in socks. And while the scent of hyena footpaws, nice as that might be, was stronger than he wanted at the moment, still he ...

“What’s wrong with me?” the hare whispered, digging more quickly through the hamper for underwear, a pair of the hyena’s boxers. Or even those sweatpants he’d been wearing on the couch ...

It was a glue-wadded T-shirt he found. Bucky recognized the scent of spunk on it immediately, plus the tang of the hyena armpits, and his jeans tightened in front.

Turning the monitor toward the bed to watch the DP-vids, the hare flopped on the sheets, laying in a miasma of the hyena’s masculine scent and pushing a paw down past the waistband, squeezing his thighs together before having to hop up to advance to the next porn clip and clicking “yes update” to another installing program. Eagerly, he hopped back onto the bed, reclining luxuriantly as pressed the shirt against his muzzle, inhaling and ...

*beep* the computer beeped, a dialogue box stealing focus center-screen:

You must restart your computer to complete the update.

Everybody’s running cockblock, nowadays! All Bucky wanted was the quarterback’s sac.
With an annoyed grunt, Bucky shut off the monitor, waiting for the computer to reboot.
Then stopped waiting, and decided he wanted something to eat instead.