Sunday, April 14, 2019
Sunday's Safe Word Shelf: Ace in the Picture by Jude Tresswell
Title: Ace in the Picture
Author: Jude Tresswell
Series: County Durham Quad #3
Genre: M/M/M/M Romance, Poly, Mystery
Release Date: March 31, 2019
Cover Artist: Billie Hastie
Publisher: Rowanvale Books
An art fraud, a polyamorous suspect, an asexual detectiveâŠ
Polyamory and asexuality meet in this third tale about a north-east England quad.
The police suspect Raith Balan of faking a painting. So do money-launderers who sink profits into art. Mike, Ross and Phil, the three men in Raithâs life, must prove his innocence. Theyâre hampered by their certainty that a member of the Fraud Squad is corrupt.
The senior investigating officer is Detective Sergeant Nick Seabrooke. He knows he is asexual, but is he aromantic too? As Raithâs lovers struggle to keep Raith safe and find the fraudster, the sergeant struggles to understand why the quad is often in his thoughts.
Chapter 1
Raith stood in the kitchen in front of the calendar. His gaze shifted from the naked figure depicted on âOctoberâ to the highlighted âThursday 12thâ and back again. He pressed a fingertip to his lips, transferred a kiss to the mid-point of the figureâs shoulder blades and ran his finger down the spineâMike Angellsâ spine.
The real-life Mike walked into the room and filled the kettle.
âWhat are you admirinâ?â he asked. âThe model or the artist?â
Raith was the artist. âThe artist,â he replied. âHeâs classy. The modelâs okay, I suppose.â
âCheeky!â Mike admonished.
Changing the subject, Raith asked, âYou know what day it is in two daysâ time, donât you?â
âIn two days? Well, letâs see⊠difficult one⊠It must be Thursday. Aye, thatâs right. It was Monday yesterday, soââ
âStop teasing me! Do you think heâs forgotten?â
âHeâ was Phil Roberts, the man Raith had married 364days earlier.
âDonât be daft. Of course not. You know Phil. His middle nameâs âNo fussâ.â
âThatâs two names.â
âAnd thatâs two cups of coffee. One for you. One for me,â said Mike, handing over a mug.
âNone for me?â asked a third man who, yawning, had entered the kitchen. He hugged the two men already there.
âSorry, Ross,â Mike apologised. âI didnât make you one. I thought you were still asleep.â
âNo. Just dozy,â said Ross sleepily. âI heard Philâs car. Is it an emergency, Raith?â
âNot exactly,â Raith replied. âHe went in early to cover for a colleague.â
Phil had helped to pioneer a form of rectal surgery that used nanocarbon patches to reconstruct torn tissue. He was a respected consultant at the hospital an hourâs drive away in Warbridge, County Durham.
âIâd better get sorted and get out myself,â said Ross. He was, amongst other things, a gallery proprietor in Gateshead, and his journey to work took longer than Philâs. He yawned again.
âAre you feelinâ okay?â asked Mike, alert to Rossâs tone of voice. âItâs not like you to sound so unenthusiastic about work.â In fact, it wasnât like Ross to sound unenthusiastic about anything. He was always livelyâhe personified keenness.
âIâm dead tired cos I didnât sleep well. I had a strange text late on. You were already asleep. I donât think you heard the phone buzz. Strange. Unsettling.â
âOh?â
âHow do you mean?â asked Raith. âWeâre not going to get involved with more criminal activities, are we? I had enough of crime fighting last time!â
Even though Mike was no longer a detective with the Tees, Tyne and Wear Constabulary, the four of them were involved in a surprising amount of crime fighting. âLast timeâ had involved an illegal immigrant, and the tensions that had arisen had threatened the survival of the quad.
Thatâs what they were: a gay, polyamorous quad. They lived in Tunhead, a hamlet in Weardale in the Durham hills. Once, Tunhead had rung to the sound of workersâ hammers hitting stone. In a way it still did: Ross had turned it into an arts centre full of smiths, sculptors and potters who wanted to escape the North Eastâs towns.
âWell, weâre not, are we?â Raith repeated.
âNo.â
âGood. Well, my creations wonât create themselves. Iâd better get off, too.â
In Raithâs case, âgetting offâ simply meant walking twenty yards to his studio, a converted storehouse.
âYou sure he hasnât forgotten?â he asked Mike again before he left.
âIâm sure.â
âOkay then.â
âWhatâs that about?â asked Ross after Raith was gone.
âHeâs bothered that Philâs forgotten their anniversary.â
âHe hasnât.â
âI know he hasnât. Heâs takinâ him off on a trip sumwhereâbut you know Raith. He needs everythinâ crystal clear and written in capital letters. And sumtimes, so do I. What was this message about?â
Ross pulled a face and explained. When heâd done so, Mike could understand his concern.
âHe wouldnât be so stupid, Ross⊠Would he?â
âNot stupid, Mike, but heâs gullible. He doesnât always think. I just donât know.â
*****
The message stayed in Rossâs mind during the forty-mile drive to the gallery and he couldnât forget about it once he was there. Some of Raithâs paintings hung on the gallery walls. They were mainly of Weardaleâs waterfalls. After heavy rain, the falls transformed from gentle trickles into rushing, gushing powerful forces of nature that the four men knew could kill. Theyâd seen them kill.
Raith loved to paint the waterfalls. From a distance, his torrents looked alive. The effect was linked to his use of colour. Raith was a tetrachromat; he could see a host of hues in what, to most people, was a single shade. He painted for himself, though, not for fame or moneyâhe had plenty of both, due to his skill with clay not brushes. Several of his wares were on show at the gallery, most tagged âsoldâ with a price that would feed and clothe all four men for a long, long time. His sensually erotic sculptures, modelled on Mike and Phil, were always in demand and beautifully, lovingly executed. But today, Ross gave Raithâs erotica a miss. He stared, instead, at the waterfalls.
What might induce Raith to produce a piece of work âwith intent to deceiveâ, as the legal phrase was?
That was what the worrying message had suggested. That Raithâs were the hands and eyes behind a painting that the police were interested in. They thought it was a fake. For the umpteenth time, Ross asked himself why?
Raith didnât need fame and he didnât need fortune, but did he need the challenge of outwitting the experts? Of copying another artistâs work so accurately that no one would notice the difference?
Surely not. Momentarily, Rossâs dark mood lifted. The only challenge Raith was likely to rise to was the one of finding ways to spice up the quadâs evening meals. Two nights ago, heâd âaccidentallyâ stumbled near the saucepan with a teaspoon of chilli flakes in his hand.
âOh, look! Theyâve fallen in,âheâd said apologetically.
Ross smiled when he thought about it, but anxiety soon returned. Could Raith be feeling resentment? Sometimes, that was the driving force behind a fraud. Failed artists whose work had been refused once too often. Failed artists who took Iâll show them!literally.
No. All Raithâs resentments were little ones that quickly blew overâfeeling nagged for not doing his turn on the house-keeping rota, being yelled at for leaving clay-covered dirty washing on top of the pile of clean laundry. Raith took umbrage easily, but heâd be smiling again within the hour. And anyway, he wasnât a failed artist. He was a very successful one.
He was a strange mixture though. That complexity was part of his attraction. It was part of what made him Raith. His skill was undeniable, but his mental health was fragileâ âbloody unhingedâ was how Mike would describe Raith in less charitable moments. He could be unpredictable. He could be very violent. He had another side, though, and it was what Mike and Phil and Ross adored about him. Canny, clued up, an ex-con hard as nails⊠but at the toss of a coin, as loving, as sweet and as trusting as anyone they had ever met. Mike was as loving, and often as sweet, but trusting? No. Mike was ex-CID. It wasnât in his nature to be trusting.
Which was why Mike was already making phone calls.
Iâm not Nick Seabrooke, the ace in the picture, but there are some firsthand truths peeping through the fiction. Like Nick, Iâm ace and happy with it, but also, like Nick, Iâm wavery on that ro/aro lineâand that can cause some soul-searching. If the picture painted in the story is a very narrow one, itâs because I didnât want to stray too far from what I know. The quad, however, are totally imaginary.
I blog at https://polyallsorts.wordpress.com. There are posts about asexuality, polyamory, beer, tattoos, book covers, and many other story-related items. There are photos of the Durham countryside, the setting of the stories, too. Iâm always happy to receive and respond to comments. Well, if theyâre friendly ones!
Ace in the Picture #3
Badge of Loyalty #1
Polyamory on Trial #2
Release Blitz: Finding Finlay by Ruby Moone
Title: Finding Finlay
Author: Ruby Moone
Series: MC Securities #2
Genre: M/M Romance
Release Date: April 9, 2019
Cover Design: Meredith Russell
Aaron Baker has a problem. His online clothing company is under attack. Whilst MC Securities tackle the breaches in security, he asks for an agent to pose as his fake boyfriend. He doesnât bargain for getting a snarky, ex-marine with sad, blue eyes and submissive tendencies.
Dumped by his boyfriend, Finlay Masters concludes that the best, and safest, place for him is to return to the closet. Kicked out by his parents as a kid for being gay, closeted in the army for fifteen years, body wrecked by an explosion that cost him his job, he isnât the best bet for any kind of relationship. Even a fake one.
As the investigation mounts, Aaron wants more, but Finn has no faith in love, never dared need anyone. Aaron talks of how lucky he is to find him, but Finn knows if he is to have a chance at a relationship at all, he needs to find himself.
Each book in the MC Securities Series can be read as standalone.
Finn cleared his throat. âJust thinking that if you fancy me, and I fancy you, we could take advantage of the situation we find ourselves in. So to speak.â
Aaron couldnât believe what he was hearing. Finn was suggesting they had sex? âYou put forward a strong argument.â
Finn stared straight forward. âYou just need to know that my body is a mess. My left leg, left shoulder, chestâŠâ he waved a hand over the area and pulled a face. âNot pretty. I can leave a T-shirt on and sweats if itâs too much for you.â
The matter of fact way Finn said it robbed Aaron of speech. The car pulled up at the venue, and the moment was lost, but Aaron knew he needed to address it, he just didnât know how.
He walked into the hotel with Finn by his side. He looked absolutely magnificent. His military bearing was clearly apparent in the way he held himself, he looked every inch the protective boyfriend as he stood aside to let Aaron pass. They walked, shoulder to shoulder in the direction of the event. Aaron glanced sideways at him.
âHey.â His voice was low.
Finn looked at him. His dark rimmed blue eyes unreadable.
âNo T-shirts, no sweats.â
Something shone in those dark eyes. The side of his mouth twitched in the tiniest of smiles as he looked away.
Aaron couldnât believe what he was hearing. Finn was suggesting they had sex? âYou put forward a strong argument.â
Finn stared straight forward. âYou just need to know that my body is a mess. My left leg, left shoulder, chestâŠâ he waved a hand over the area and pulled a face. âNot pretty. I can leave a T-shirt on and sweats if itâs too much for you.â
He walked into the hotel with Finn by his side. He looked absolutely magnificent. His military bearing was clearly apparent in the way he held himself, he looked every inch the protective boyfriend as he stood aside to let Aaron pass. They walked, shoulder to shoulder in the direction of the event. Aaron glanced sideways at him.
âHey.â His voice was low.
Finn looked at him. His dark rimmed blue eyes unreadable.
âNo T-shirts, no sweats.â
Something shone in those dark eyes. The side of his mouth twitched in the tiniest of smiles as he looked away.
Author Bio:My name is Ruby Moone and I love books. All kinds of books. My weakness is for romance, and that can be any kind, but I am particularly fond of historical and paranormal. I decided to write gay romance after reading some fantastic books and falling in love with the genre, so am really thrilled to have my work published here. The day job takes up a lot of my time, but every other spare moment finds me writing or reading. I live in the north west of England with my husband who thinks that I live in two worlds. The real world and in the world in my head...he probably has a point!
EMAIL: rubymoone@gmail.com
Finding Finlay #2
Trusting Jack #1
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