Click Here to Check Out
Summary:
September Book of the Month
Single Dads #2
When the world labels a man and judges them blindly, is it possible to ever find love?
Firefighter Eric is on the front line, battling the threat of nature’s destruction in the California grasslands alongside his CalFire team. Focused and calm, even in the direst of situations, he has a strong affection for his fire truck, loves his career, and has best friends he can rely on. All he needs now is love, but that seems to be impossible to find. At his friend’s wedding. Eric falls in lust at first sight with the shy, slim and sexy Brady, even if Brady isn’t the type of guy he usually goes for. What Eric longs for is an equal in his bed, not a smaller guy who might want Eric to role-play big strong firefighter every time they have sex. He wants to find someone he can be vulnerable with, someone who will love him for his soft heart and quiet ways.
Brady’s life plans grind to a halt when his niece and nephew lose their parents in a tragic accident, and he becomes a dad overnight. His Developmental Coordination Disorder rules his life, but he fights both DCD and the fears that chase him every day, to give Maddie and Lucas a home. Agreeing to go to a friend’s wedding is a decision he regrets long before he even gets there. But, he refuses to give in to his fear, even if he might do something that makes him a target for people’s comments and laughter. Meeting Eric, a huge man with a gentle voice and a flair for chivalry, he falls hard. Now, if only he can let himself get past his panic that Eric would never want someone like him, then maybe he could fall in love for real.
I've said it before and I'll say it again, there is nothing sexier or heart-grabbing than a man who cares for children, whether it's as a dad, uncle, brother, grandfather, friend, or a dozen other roles. So what better series title than Single Dads and it's written by one of my all-time favorite authors: RJ Scottj! YAY!!!
We first met Eric when he stumbled drunk onto Ash's doorstep yelling for his housemates to let him in and Ash furious having just put his little girl, Mia to bed. Well, Eric isn't drunk here and we learned in Single that he is a firefighter, giving us insight as to how and why he landed on the wrong doorstep. In Today he gets his own story, with even more insight and inner monologue to his life as a firefighter and that it is more than just a job or career, it truly is who he is. He first sees Brady when Ash asks him to keep an eye on him and Eric is only too happy to do so😉.
Brady on the other hand is a mess, or at least that is how he sees himself, personally I think he just hasn't found that one last piece of the puzzle that brings everything together. Is Eric that piece or does he just help bring a little focus and encouragement into Brady's life that he has been lacking OR is it the encouragement that is the last piece? So many possibilities and so little spoilers from me. One thing I loved about Brady was his DCD, Developmental Coordination Disorder, honestly I'd never heard of it before and though it may not get the coverage some would like in the story I found it to be balanced perfectly within the overall journey. RJ Scott doesn't by any means "gloss over it" but she also isn't writing a medical journal either so the scales are evenly tipped between informative and entertaining. Brady's head is all over the place at times which can be hard to read but it is the author's way of showing us how he's coping with his DCD instead of just telling us.
As for Brady's nephew and niece, Lucas and Maddie, who he has since adopted after he got guardianship when his sister and her husband died, they appear as a bit of a handful. No one likes spoiled children who show little to no respect for their elders so yes, I wanted to give them a good spanking at first, Lucas especially but later on we get to have some insight into him as well, not through Lucas' inner monologue but with interaction on a not-so-sick-sick-day home from school.
We all know Today will end in a HEA and that is not a spoiler, life is about the journey not the destination and in Today that journey belongs to not only Brady and Eric but also Lucas and Maddie. I said above that perhaps Eric is the missing piece that helps bring focus to Brady's life coping with DCD, the kids, and himself but I think Brady is also the missing piece to bring focus to Eric's life as well. Having said that, I feel like I'm implying Brady needs a partner to bring his parenting side out but I'm not. Yes Brady and Eric complete each others' hearts and Eric wins the kids over but I think what makes them complete each other is their ability to help the other sit down, take a breath, and focus their energy. Maybe I'm not making much sense but what I'm really trying to say is Brady and Eric are perfectly matched at just the right point in time. Today is no walk-in-the-park-unicorns-and-roses kind of romance because there is drama but it will make you smile and warm your heart, I can't ask for more.
Is Today as good as Single? Well, no but in all honesty that rarely happens for me especially in a series that centers around a different pairing in each entry. But the difference on my entertainment-meter between Brady and Eric's journey and Ash and Sean's is so minor that it's barely worth mentioning. Do you need to read Single first? Perhaps not as they are different couples but considering Today opens at an event featuring Ash and Sean I would highly recommend reading Single Dads in order. You won't be lost by any means but the relationship and connection between Eric, Sean, and Leo(who will be getting his own story in the future third entry, Promise) will be more understanding and powerful if you read Single first, as well as have a full grasp of the friendship between Brady and Ash. But again, you won't be lost if you start with Today.
Audiobook Review November 2019:
I think this is the fastest I've ever listened to a book after first reading the story so I'll admit I wasn't sure if my attention would be able to be kept(I tend to zone out and concentrate on what I'm doing while listening anyway which is why 99% of the audiobooks I listen to are books I've read so I won't be lost when I "re-zone in"). There was nothing to worry about because I loved Brady and Eric's story just as much now as I did a couple of months ago. There's really nothing to add that I didn't say in September: I loved Brady, loved Eric, still wanted to spank Lucas, but when it all comes together I just wanted to wrap them all up in a giant Mama Bear hug. AND it goes without saying that Sean Crisden brings life to RJ Scott's characters as he always does, with a flair of realism that you feel like you are witnessing the story in your living room instead of just listening to it.
RATING:
Summary:
The ABCs of Spellcraft #4
It’s all fun and games until someone loses a hand.
Dixon has been dying to introduce Yuri to Uncle Fonzo, the Hand of his family, and now he’ll finally get that chance. All they need to do is meet him at a traveling carnival with an unused piece of Spellcraft.
Easy peasy, right?
Not even a little. And even worse, they might encounter a clown.
Uncle Fonzo has left a trail of magical destruction in his wake, but he claims he’s been helping people. Spellcrafters are a slippery bunch, and it’s hard to say if he’s stretching the truth or telling an outright lie. One thing’s for sure, he’s between a rock and a hard place now, and if he doesn’t deliver an outrageous ransom to Strange Manor by midnight, all deals are off.
From a lackluster carnival with a booby-trapped tour bus to the decrepit mausoleum behind an old mental asylum, the Spellcraft leads Dixon and Yuri on a goose chase that’s not only wild…but deadly.
The ABCs of Spellcraft is a series filled with bad jokes and good magic, where MM Romance meets Paranormal Cozy. A perky hero, a brooding love interest, and delightfully twisty-turny stories that never end up quite where you'd expect. The books are best read in order, so be sure to start at the beginning with Quill Me Now.
Here I thought all the entries in The ABCs of Spellcraft were brilliant(okay they all really are topnotch) but Dead Man's Quill is beyond brilliant, its . . . super-super-uber-brilliant😉😉. Everything we've learned so far makes sense, not that it didn't fit each story before but now everything is brought together and we see what got Uncle Fonzo's journey going.
Dixon and Yuri are as vibrant as ever and their relationship just keeps getting stronger. There have been moments in the series that I wasn't sure if I wanted them to find Uncle Fonzo but now that they did, I'm glad because he adds his own variety of wit to the mix. We see just why Dixon has been so focused on bringing his Uncle back to the fold and Yuri's glad to see his man happy but I think there might be a few times where he's not quite so sure finding Fonzo was the best decision😉, however you'll have to read for yourself if he sticks to that chain of thought by the end of Dead Man's Quill.
You all know I'm not going to divulge any spoilers and in a story like Dead Man's Quill every little tidbit has a purpose so no leaks from me, sorry-not-sorry😉. Just know that Dixon and Yuri's tale is not over, this isn't the end of the road for them, just the end of this story arc. So many possibilities, I can't wait to see where the boys' journey takes them next. If you wondering about reading order, yes each entry has its own plot, it's own series of mishaps but they are also part of bigger quest so it really does need to be experienced in the order that its released. Trust me, if you like quirky romantic mysteries bound together with magic and humor than The ABCs of Spellcraft is definitely for you.
RATING:
Summary:
Homestead Legacy #1
1895. New York.
Gabriel Webster’s pack is in trouble. His father’s failing health and his mother’s untimely death mean that the vultures are circling. It won’t be long before his family’s assets are stripped and his pack disbanded. When an offer of help arrives in the form of a marriage of convenience, he has little choice but to accept.
The arrangement would be the perfect solution, if not for one thing. Gabriel is to marry Nathaniel Hayward, the Alpha who was badly injured in the accident that killed his brother ten years before—and the man Gabriel has been in love with for as long as he can remember.
Trapped in a business arrangement masquerading as a marriage — in a strange, empty house with a damaged husband who barely tolerates him — isn’t what Gabriel expected from life.
But sometimes the last thing we want is the beginning of something more.
And an ending can be the start of something beautiful.
I'm going to start by saying this is my first experience with the author's Homestead universe and I absolutely loved it! I can't wait to go back and read the previous series. I am guessing there is some kind of connection to the original series, perhaps this is new generation or a secondary pack from the original or maybe it is a completely new pack and just set in the same universe. Either way I am eager to read the Alphas' Homestead series.
Let's talk about The Arrangement. In my reading experience, arranged marriages go one of two ways: perfectly done or dreadful, there really isn't a middle ground for me. Arrangement falls into the perfectly done category in my opinion. Are there any gaps in the world building as I would classify this as an alternative paranormal universe? Maybe a few as its a spin-off I would imagine the world building was more in depth in the original series but honestly they are so minimal that I really won't even comment further about them. Some might think "alternative universe" and "paranormal" kind of go hand-in-hand all the time and to a certain degree that is true but when it is a historical setting and the paranormal world isn't hidden then I feel AU is warranted. I won't go into details as I see that as spoilers but I will say that the author has done such a marvelous job with the setting, I found myself believing it was the history we grew up learning in school.
As for Gabriel and Nathaniel, there are nods to Beauty and the Beast in their tale but really for me it's so much more than a fairytale re-telling but I suppose it is enough of a nod that one could add "fantasy" to the genre tag but only just. I completely understand doing what one has to for their family and Gabriel marrying Nathaniel begins as that but we quickly learn that there is a shared past via Gabe's brother, Reuben who died ten years prior in an accident that also left Nathaniel scarred. Speaking of Nathaniel, he comes across as standoffish and a bit gruff due to his somewhat hermit lifestyle since the accident but he really has the biggest heart he just needed to open it again. Don't get me wrong, their journey is not an easy one but it is a believable one that will tear at your heartstrings more than once but you'll walk away with a smile.
As I started with I have yet to read the author's Alphas' Homestead series that The Arrangement was spun from but I am eager to go back and discover the beginnings of the Homestead universe. Was I lost? No. Did I feel something was missing? Not at all. From other reviews it sounds like there was a cameo or two from previous characters but Gabriel and Nathaniel's journey has a beginning and feels completely new. Now maybe after I've read the original series I'll feel differently and say "oh, so that's why this was mentioned" or "that's where that came from" but right now The Arrangement is a lovely read in itself and I hope there will be more Homestead Legacy stories. So many paranormal stories tend to be contemporary, especially the shifter sub-genre that I read so it was extremely enticing to read a historical AU and as a history fan I was not disappointed. Some might say there are aspects that are glossed over for a historical, gay marriage being acceptable or so everyday norm it isn't even touched on, but that is one point that goes toward the AU sub-genre. Alex Jane combines the three(historical, paranormal, and alternative universe) into an amazingly real tale of romance, friendship, and family that I couldn't put down, highly recommend, and left me eager to check out the author's backlist.
Summary:
Cambridge Fellows Mysteries #12.8
Orlando Coppersmith is called in to solve not one but two problems: a suspected murder and a mysterious violin. So why is he reluctant to take the case - is it because it came from the warden of his old college? Once more, it's up to Jonty Stewart to get his partner through the challenge and employ their own, unique, way to finding a solution.
Complete and total awesomeness! I love Jonty and Orlando so when I saw there was to be another new Cambridge Fellows Mysteries I was all kinds of "YAY-ING" and "WOW-ING". Seriously, I could read these guys forever. Some series can become repetitive and past their prime but not these boys, whether its a 2-page holiday coda or a 400-page novel they just keep getting better and long as they decide to fill the author in on their cases and adventures I'll be reading them.
As for Lessons in Playing a Murderous Tune, the boys have two mysteries to solve at the same location, Orlando's old school. As usual there's more than a few twists and turns that I won't even begin to delve into so not to spoil this lovely novella but let me just say that my suspicions , though not completely accurate, I was guessing and second-guessing myself all the way to the reveal. For me a mystery is great even if you figure it out and yet leaves you constantly going "Could it be. . . ", "Maybe it's . . .", and "I think its . . . but then again . . ." because when there is a level of uncertainty no matter how obvious it may seem that's when you know an author has pulled you in so deep that there is no possible way you can put it down. Just another reason why Charlie Cochrane is on my very short list of "Authors-I-1-click-even-without-reading-the-blurb" list.
Let's take a minute to talk Jonty and Orlando. How great are these two boys? They are superb, the chemistry is off the charts and I know for some the mostly off-the-page heat would be a minus in their mind but for me the way the author tackles them "doing their duty"(Jonty and Orlando's phrasing) with little to no graphic detail makes the chemistry even stronger. Their banter and bickering is as humorous and lovely as ever, leaving no doubts whatsoever just how much they love each other.
Now for those who are new to the Cambridge Fellows Mysteries and are wondering about reading order, I recommend checking out the author's website for a chronological list which is not necessarily the same as the release order. Each entry is a story in itself with it's own mystery so there is no real "must read in order" but personally, I would highly recommend reading at least the first three original novels(Lessons in Love, Lessons in Desire, and Lessons in Discovery) to fully appreciate the chemistry and hard fought connection between Jonty and Orlando as well as their family and friends. Trust me once you read Lessons in Love you'll be sucked into the series and the world of Cambridge Fellows that you will want to read them all.
RATING:
Summary:
October Book of the Month
Haven Hart Universe #7
Haven Hart stands on the edge of good and evil. Having balance between the two is the only thing keeping the town from crumbling to the ground. For years, one man has been charged with maintaining that balance. Poe.
The air of mystery surrounding Poe is one of necessity. He’s the keeper of secrets and for good reason. He’s stood alone against the most ruthless men and women, always hiding behind the curtain to help his friends defeat what seeks to destroy them.
Now, after all this time, the city he loves, the people he has protected, and the secrets he’s kept hidden are in serious jeopardy. Poe will need the help of his friends to fight the ultimate battle; not just save Haven Hart but everything and everyone he holds dear to him.
When the dust settles, will betrayals be forgiven? Will the city still be standing? Will Poe’s beloved be at his side or will everything crumble? One thing is for certain, everything will be tested, and questions will finally be answered. Raven’s Hart is the final installment in the Haven Hart Series.
***IMPORTANT***
This is the 7th book in the Haven Hart Series it is NOT a standalone and all others need to be read before this one.
First, I have to give myself a big hand of applause👏👏👏👏👏👏 because I managed to do something I have never done before with a book that I have anticipated as much as I have with Raven's Hart: I savored the read! That's right, you heard me, I savored the read. Normally, my biggest tell as to whether it's a winning gem is I just have to know how it ends so I read the book as I quickly as life allows but then when I get to the final page I kick myself for not reading it slower to prolong the amazing goodness. HOWEVER, I knew Raven's Hart was the finale to Davidson King's Haven Hart Universe so I forced myself to "linger" so I could put off that final page and the goodbye as long as possible. So excuse me a minute while I give myself another round of applause👏👏👏👏👏👏.
Now on to Raven's Hart. What can I say without spoilers? Very little actually so as to the plot: HOLY HANNAH BATMAN!!! OMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMG!!! THE FORCE IS STRONG WITH THIS ONE!!!! Can you tell I liked it? We finally learn Poe's story and what a story it is! Poe, a man who went from yoga-in-the-park BFF to the-man-with-access-to-the-vaults to THE MAN! and he did it all with heart, a heart that beats, breaks, and bleeds. We finally learn what keeps that heart going. That's it, that's all the plot points you are getting from me, any more would just give too much away. Sorry, not sorry😉.
Everyone returns to rally around the man who has helped them(albeit reluctantly at times). I was going to say "the entire cast of characters returns" but I changed it to just "everyone" because to say "cast of characters" puts a spotlight on them being fictional. And yes, I know they are fictional, Haven Hart is fictional, but Davidson King has done such an exceptionally amazing job at world building and character development that they seem so real, that you could meet them pumping gas, getting milk, returning books to the library, etc. I've said it before and I'll say it again: Davidson King is more than an author or writer, she is a storyteller, an attention-grabbing, heart-pounding, adrenaline-pumping storyteller.
If you have been reading Haven Hart from the beginning then you probably already have Raven's Hart in your sights and on your list but if you haven't now is the perfect time to start. As I started with, Poe's story is the finale to this amazing journey so you can read from beginning to end and you really do need to read this series in order. Yes, each entry focuses on a different couple(or throuple in Triple Threat and Snow Storm features Snow and Christopher from Snow Falling which started this amazing journey) with it's own beginning and ending but each book also holds clues to the full mysterious journey. I really can't recommend Haven Hart Universe enough and I'll fill you in on a little secret, if they ever made this into a film series Haven Hart would be a very close second to the Star Wars Saga on my favorite films of all time list(and if you know me then you'll know how huge that is because I've been a SW fanatic since I saw the original back in 1977 when I was only 4 years old)😉.
One last note: I said Raven's Hart is the finale to Haven's Hart and it is but we do get to see more of Simon's story in 2020. Who knows maybe if we are super, duper, uber nice Miss King will write a holiday novella/coda some day😉😉. Either way, its been onehelluva ride, Davidson King and Thank You for this amazing world you gave us.
And one more thing . . . the cover designs for this whole series has been amazing. Morningstar Ashley of Designs by Morningstar have captured the setting of Haven Hart and the ongoing stories incredibly with eye-catching awesomeness.
RATING:
Summary:
PsyCop #1
Victor Bayne, the psychic half of a PsyCop team, is a gay medium who’s more concerned with flying under the radar than in making waves.
He hooks up with handsome Jacob Marks, a non-psychic (or “Stiff”) from an adjacent precinct at his ex-partner’s retirement party and it seems like his dubious luck has taken a turn for the better. But then a serial killer surfaces who can change his appearance to match any witness’ idea of the world’s hottest guy.
Solving murders is a snap when you can ask the victims whodunit, but this killer’s not leaving any spirits behind.
First off, I have NO IDEA why it took it me so long to read this! Normally when I start an already established series I tend to devour the whole thing immediately but as its October I have others I have to read first but trust me I will be returning to the world of Victor Bayne, Jacob Marks, and the whole PsyCop series because . . . WOW!
Among the Living may be a short novella introduction to the world of PsyCop where psychic and non-psychic(Stiffs as they are often referred to) police work hand-in-hand to solve crimes but don't let the shortness fool you, it is long on character development and world building. I won't go into details but let me tell you, if you love supernatural, crime-busting, romantic bickering, friendly banter, and plenty of lusftul chemistry then this is definitely a series for you(technically I shouldn't speak for the whole series but considering some of the author's works I have also read I'm going out on a limb and saying "series"😉). Frankly, if you only love one of those elements then Among the Living is still for you.
I can't wait to read the rest of the series to see what kind of trouble Victor and Jacob get into and I have a feeling "trouble" might be the perfect word. When an author can mesh together romance, heat, and humor with paranormal, supernatural, and mayhem then I know I found a winning combo of author and storytelling.
RATING:
Summary:
Arizona Raptors #1
When opposites attract, it’s not just the team that’s in for a shake-up.
When a stipulation in his father’s will throws Mark back into a family that disowned him, he has only two things on his mind; buying his way out of contractual obligations and running in the opposite direction as fast as he can. When neither option pans out, he finds he is now a one third owner of the struggling Arizona Raptors hockey team, and that is just about the worst thing he could have happened to him. Not only does he hate hockey, but the Raptors are a bottom-of-the-league team, rife with jealousies and anger in a locker room that only knows self-pity. How is he supposed to help turn things around when the only way to start fixing things is to form an alliance with the estranged siblings he’d run from fifteen years earlier?
Then there’s Rowen Carmichael, a stubborn, opinionated, irritating man with superiority issues and questionable taste in music. Butting heads with Rowen, who he’d never even wanted to hire in the first place, is one thing, but there is no way in hell that he will allow the growing attraction to the new coach become anything more. Until with everything on the line, he has to make decisions that will change his life forever.
After years of collegiate coaching, Rowen is given an offer that he simply can’t refuse, although perhaps he should. When he’s presented with the chance to take one of the worst teams in the league and mold them into a future cup contender, the challenge is just too alluring to pass up. He leaves his beloved Ontario behind and moves west to the arid city of Tucson where he is faced with a broken team, shoddy management, and players overflowing with resentment and bigotry.
Never in his twenty years of hockey has he ever seen such a raging dumpster fire of an organization. Yet there’s something about this team and this city that compels him to roll up his sleeves and start dismantling. He has his eye on a new associate coach that’s bound to makes waves, and several key players who should be sent packing. Now all he has to do is convince the new owners of the team that his choices are for the best. If only Mark Westman-Reid, one of three siblings who now own the Raptors, wasn’t so damned rock-headed, so damned snooty, and so damned appealing his job might be a bit easier.
When I heard the Raptors were going to be the next hockey series from RJ Scott & VL Locey I was more than a little apprehensive. I mean sure, it's Scott & Locey at the helm but it was one of the Raptors' star players that took down Railers' star Tennant Rowe so how could a team that has that kind of player on the roster be a pleasant read? Right? Well I needn't have worried because Coast to Coast is just . . . WOW! Okay they may not be the Railers but they are still pretty darn great and chock full of potential.
I'm not going to lie, Mark Westman-Reid really got my goat up in the beginning, but as we quickly learn he has reasons, and very valid reasons, to not want to be there. Even after learning said reasons, I'll fill you in on a little secret: I still wanted to whack him upside the head a few times but eventually he begins to "mellow out" and realizes that sometimes you have to go back to grow and move forward.
As for Rowen Carmichael, well he has his work cut out for him both in his team and the head office, namely Mark Westman-Reid. Even though I'm not a hockey fan I am a sports fan(mostly baseball, football, & college basketball) and though none of my favorite teams have ever had a true rebuilding year, I can safely say that fans don't always appreciate a rebuild because basically it's the head office throwing in the towel for that season while trying to better the team for the future. We get it, we understand it, but that doesn't mean we like the concept of "throwing in the towel" at any point so Rowen has a hard task in front of him but it becomes clear that though he may be new to the big show he has a plan and a stubborn attitude to fight for it and see it through, that is if a certain suit will let him.
Watching Mark and Rowen navigate their new roles in the Raptors organization as well as their attraction to each other is actually quite fun, despite wanting to rap my knuckles to the back of a certain suit's head. They really balance the bantering, bickering, and flirting quite expertly. Will either of them let the other in completely or is it just sex? Will their eventual tentative friendship lead to more? You know what's coming: you have to read Coast to Coast for yourself for those answers.
If you've been reading the Harrisburg Railers and Owatonna U series then you know that Ryker Madsen was drafted to the Arizona Raptors and were left wondering as I was: How could Ryker play for the team who still had the man on the roster that nearly ruined his at-the-time-soon-to-be-but-now-is stepdad, Tennant Rowe? I can't imagine what Ryker was thinking the first time he came face to face with the guy but his upbringing and love for the game shows him to be the better man(I don't think I could've been as good as Ryker but 👍 that he could). Will he be the Tennant Rowe of the Raptors? Maybe but he certainly seems to be the levelheaded peacekeeper and considering where the team is and the mountains they have to climb, he will have his hands full.
Will I love Arizona Raptors as much as Railers? Probably not but I have a feeling that with Scott & Locey behind the scenes that it will come down to Railers coming first because there is so much goodness and awesome feels already for the Raptors that I can't wait to see where the authors take the team and the players next. Now as for needing to read Railers and Owatonna before Raptors? Well for me I can't imagine having not read the others prior and as a series fan I love reading in order even when it comes to spin-offs, sequels, and connecting stories but I don't know that it is a must. Sure there are things mentioned especially regarding Ryker Madsen and his stepfather Tennant Rowe but the authors' do a wonderful job bringing newbies up to speed. However you read it, Coast to Coast is definitely another win-win in my book.
RATING:
Summary:
Erie #1-4
You can now have all four of the MM Lake Erie pack novellas in this one reasonably priced collection! Included in the set are the previously released novellas An Erie Halloween, An Erie Operetta, and An Erie Garden Party. To round off this whimsical and romantic shifter set is a brand-new novella, An Erie Uprising!
It’s been one wonderfully romantic year since skunk shifter Templeton Reed met Mikel Lupei, the alpha wolf of the Lake Erie pack. During that year, the two men fell in love and worked side-by-side to solve some tricky murder mysteries. They also opened up Lupei Manor, Mikel’s familial home, to other LGBTQ mystical beings in the Erie area. Sadly, being gay in the supernatural world Templeton and Mikel live in can be a death sentence.
During the past year, the magical world has slowly been coming unraveled. Civil unrest now runs rampant through the community as the lesser breeds revolt against the hateful dictates of the Elder Counsel. The uprising will surely touch every person residing in the magical world beside Lady Erie. Will the flames of unrest and war consume everything and everyone Templeton and Mikel hold dear as well?
I have no idea why I haven't read this sooner. VL Locey's An Erie Collection came to my attention last October but unfortunately I was unable to read it before Halloween, then I had selected readings for the centenary of the Armistice, then it was Christmas reads, and by the time the new year started it had got shoved down my TBR list that I'm ashamed to say it laid forgotten. Lo and behold the author had a new entry in the series this year and I suddenly remembered I hadn't read this collection. Well, no matter when you read it trust me when I say you'll love it! Erie is so much more than just a novella shifter series, it is a whole world of paranormal entities and the lives they live. Shifters may be at the heart of the series but trust me it is so much more than your typical garden variety shifting. Let's face it, who would expect a skunk shifter to be so lovable?
I won't go into specifics but let me just say that Templeton the skunk shifter(that's right I said skunk shifter) and Mikel the alpha wolf of the Lake Erie pack are as mismatched as you can possibly imagine and yet they are still a perfect fit. An Erie Collection is four novellas of the Lake Erie series by VL Locey following Templeton and Mikel as they navigate their relationship which is forbidden in the paranormal world and could mean certain death. Watching the pair and their pack, family, and friends who many also have things to hide from the Elders who rule the paranormal world is fun, dangerous, romantic, humorous, and all around entertaining.
Obviously this series collection is paranormal with shifters of many animal varieties, vampires, and so much more but it is also an intriguing blend of rom-com, mystery, and drama held together with plenty of heart. Erie is definitely not your typical paranormal world(that is if any paranormal story could be classified typical😉) it is however, one I fell in love with and hope to have many more to come but if this year's Nightside, an Erie Vampire tale(which I'll be diving into shortly) is the last the author writes I'll be re-visiting this universe for years to come because it is a winning combination.
RATING:
Summary:
Read by Candlelight #1
Pip Leighton is in a fix. His sister’s marriage hinges on him staving off the family’s impending financial ruin by taking the job of secretary to Lord Cross, a reclusive man with a temper befitting his name. Developing a passion for his employer was not on the cards. Neither was getting caught up in the deep mystery surrounding Foxwood Court and its resident ghost, but Pip has never been one to shirk a duty.
As Pip delves deeper into the past, he discovers that his only hope for a future with Cross may depend on a man long dead—a man with a curious resemblance to himself.
Written for lovers of gothic romance and ghost stories, The Ghost and the Secretary is the first in a series of gay romance novellas.
A Gothic Paranormal Romance.
I've always loved the gothic side when it comes to paranormal romance, especially this time of year so when I came across The Secretary and the Ghost I jumped on it. I was not disappointed. Yes it's a novella and perhaps it could have been better had it been a full-length novel but sometimes extra pages don't make a story better. I always love the finer points of backstory or more in-depth details here and there but in my experience with gothic tales it often is the little gaps or less info that make the paranormal side more spooky, more creepy, more "what is around the corner?" so I loved that this was a novella.
As for the story itself, well I won't say much as every little bit might give too much away. I will say that the main characters, Pip and Lord Cross are not always the most likable(especially Cross) and I wanted to whack them upside the head more than once😉. The more you get to know them the more I began to understand and appreciate the way they are, I still wanted to bang their heads together at times but I also wanted to wrap them in bubblewrap and a giant Mama Bear hug too. It was these warring emotions they created in me that kept me on the edge of my seat. Throw in a lookalike ghost, a thieving uncle, and you have a very memorable tale that is absolutely perfect for any Halloween library but don't let that pesky ghost keep you from enjoying it whenever because it's a lovely gem for any time of year.
I'm not completely new to Gillian St Kevern's work but my readings are limited to just a few but I can safely and honestly say that The Secretary and the Ghost makes me want to read more in this gothic Read by Candlelight series, her overall backlist, and any future tales.
RATING:
The Arrangement by Alex Jane
1895. New York.
It was a bright day, and yet the sunshine barely penetrated the windows on this side of the house. It made the short walk to his father’s study all the more gloomy. Not that Gabriel would be otherwise engaged, out gamboling on the lawn, or taking the carriage to town to parade around the park. When he had been summoned, he’d been going over the household accounts with the housekeeper, hardly an arduous task given Dinah’s propensity to ply him with ginger biscuits as they worked. Together, they had managed to find a way to eke out the meager allowance to feed the dwindling household this month without resorting to selling the silver and were even able to laugh about it as they penny-pinched. It might not have been hard labor, but his body was suffering the effects of the constant tension in his mind and shoulders, wondering how much longer they could go on like this.
Gabriel had no reason to think he would be receiving any good news as he knocked lightly on the heavy wooden door to his father’s study before pushing it open. And yet, he thought as he walked in, the old man was smiling, albeit fleetingly, at the papers in his hand.
“You sent for me?”
Looking up, his father beamed at him, the same indulgent smile he had always bestowed on his youngest—now only—son. It would have been untrue and discourteous to imagine Gabriel had been the favorite. Abraham Webster had loved both his sons equally, if differently, valuing their individual qualities and never comparing the two. Even after Reuben’s untimely death, Abraham had never once asked Gabriel to emulate his sibling, to try to be more like him to keep his memory alive. It would have been impossible anyway. Where Reuben had been athletic and rambunctious, Gabriel was bookish and quiet. Either trying to blend into the other would have been impossible.
“I did,” his father said, his voice breaking a little. “I hope I didn’t take you away from anything too important.”
“Dinah and I had just finished up. Do you need me to fetch you anything? Some tea for your throat, perhaps?”
His father shook his head and gestured to the seat next to him at the large wooden desk. In all the years since his mother’s death, Gabriel had never once seen his father take the seat behind the desk, always preferring instead to sit on the other side. It was an unspoken arrangement, one that needed no explanation, at least not to Gabriel. His mother had been the Alpha, the head of the pack. With her passing, the title and responsibilities should have moved to Gabriel’s brother but being that he had died some years earlier, Abraham had found himself in a position where he’d had to fight to hang on to the estate—their property, and more importantly, their name—in order to keep their home out of the hands of the bank and several less savory branches of the family, who would happily strip the assets to nothing.
Now, with his father’s failing health and the effects of some bad investments, it was looking likely that all that effort might have been in vain and they would lose the house anyway. The stress of which took an even greater toll on Abraham and thus the vicious cycle ate away at Gabriel’s life minute by minute.
Gabriel took the chair next to his father, twisting on the hard wooden seat to face him. There was a curious look in Abraham’s eyes, which Gabriel couldn’t quite read.
“I received a letter yesterday.” Abraham paused, as if waiting for a reaction or response.
Having none to such a blank statement, Gabriel could only reply, “Oh?”
“You have something you wish to tell me?”
Gabriel was genuinely perplexed, and must have looked so, as his father’s teasing smile dropped away. “I see. This makes it all the more curious.”
“What is it and why is it curious? Father. Honestly, you do talk in such riddles.”
“A solution, I think,” Abraham said solemnly, holding out the papers in his hand. “Although, what you’ll think of it, I have no idea.”
Drawing the letter slowly from his father’s grip, Gabriel didn’t know what to expect, and indeed, the words on the page were the last thing he would have ever anticipated.
Reading intently, he reached the bottom of the page and swiftly returned to the top, tracking the meticulous handwriting yet again, this time mouthing each syllable carefully, too afraid to actually speak them aloud but needing to make sure he was fully understanding what was in front of him.
Finally, he let his hand fall to his lap, the page crumpling in his grip, and looked up at his father. “Is this decided then? Do I get any say in the matter?”
“Of course you do. If you really can’t stomach the idea, then I will refuse him immediately.”
“But?” Gabriel knew there was a but coming.
The lines on his father’s face deepened as he frowned, etching his countenance with sadness. It was all the reply Gabriel needed and the burning fear the letter had stoked in his chest snuffed out, leaving only a cold stone of resignation lying heavily within him.
The old man cleared his throat; his voice weaker than Gabriel could bear to hear. “If there was any other way… I have tried, Gabriel, I have. But there is no denying the reality of our situation. I’m not much longer for this world, and when I die the vultures will descend on this house and they will strip it bare. My greatest fear is that you will be left with nothing and no one. This arrangement would stop that from happening. You and the household would be under the protection of someone we know to be a good man and an Alpha I trust. I can die knowing you’ll be taken care of. “
Reaching out, Gabriel took his father’s hand. The old man had been failing since the death of his mate, and in truth had never truly recovered from the death of his oldest son ten years before. The grief may have lessened over time, but the damage was done, and the strong, vibrant man he had once been had died along with Gabriel’s brother. Since the passing of his wife, there was very little doubt in anyone’s mind that his time was short.
“I don’t blame you. I just—” He sighed. “I suppose I’m simply a little surprised you should have asked him, of all people.”
Abraham shook his head and smiled softly. “I didn’t ask him. That’s why I thought maybe you had taken the initiative.”
Gabriel didn’t know quite what to think. He screwed up his nose and grimaced. “So, you didn’t—” His father shook his head. “So, that means…” Amusement crept onto Abraham’s face. It was the first time in a long while Gabriel had seen anything but worry and sadness there, and regardless of logic and good sense, that alone was a good enough reason to go along with it. Gabriel slumped down and let out a long breath. “Well, then,” he said quietly, “it seems I’m to be married.”
“I’m sorry, Gabriel. I know this isn’t want you wanted. And you must know I’ve always wished for so much more for you.”
His father sounded so apologetic and guilty, Gabriel forced a smile and reached for his other hand. “I know and it’s not that. It’s just…” His father looked questioningly at him, but all Gabriel could say was, “It’s just—Nathaniel Hayward? Of all people. Really?”
Lessons in Playing a Murderous Tune by Charlie Cochrane
“The police believe the sudden death of Peter Denison was due to heart failure, and there had been no need of an inquest. An outcome which Professor Lewis-Duckworth refuses to accept, believing that diagnosis covers a multitude of sins and might actually mean that the doctor doesn’t know what killed him and doesn’t want to admit the fact.”
“Professor Lewis-Duckworth?”
“Warden of Gabriel. Equivalent to the master of St. Bride’s. Not a bad chap if rumour is to be believed. Better than the bad tempered anti-social curmudgeon who was warden in my day.”
Jonty hid his smile behind his tea cup. That would have meant two bad tempered anti-social curmudgeons at Gabriel back then.
Orlando continued. “The chap who died was a retired musician. In his day he’d been a virtuoso—quite famous in musical circles—but he’d been stricken with arthritis that had come on so swiftly and severely that he’d had to give up playing.”
“That’s sad. Did the warden include all these facts in his letter?”
“Some of them. He also enclosed a selection of cuttings from the local newspapers. I can show them to you later, if I—we—choose to accept the request for help.”
Back to the uncertainty. Jonty took a deep breath. “I think it would be very hard to turn down such an appeal, Orlando. I know that’s not the answer you wish to hear, but what reason could you give that would be believable? We’re right at the start of the long vac, so no great college or university commitments to constrain us and if we pretended we were about to go on holiday, we’d be sure to be found out. You know how gossip, academic or otherwise, gets about.”
Orlando nodded. “I know that. I realise I’m being stupid and I should snatch this case up readily, because I can also imagine your mother taking me by the arm, walking me round the garden at the Old Manor and telling me that were I to have a triumph it would overlay my memories of Oxford with a layer of triumph.” He cast his eyes down. “But I’m scared.”
“Oh, Orlando.” Jonty left his seat, took his lover by the hand and—just as he’d done in the study, earlier—eased him out of his seat. Only this time he took the man into a warm embrace. “I’m not going to tell you not to be scared, that you’re fretting for nothing as all will be well, because that’s just stupid. I will say that if you’re inclined to be brave then I’m here at your side and will be in Oxford. As you’ve been at my side all the times I’ve been scared or upset because the old memories have bubbled up again. And before you start apologising for having started off a train of thought towards that particularly unpleasant station, don’t. I’m enjoying being the strong one.” He couldn’t resist a chuckle. “And from the way your body’s reacting, you’re enjoying this cuddle. Such a shame that it would scandalise Mrs. Ward if we went back to bed.”
“You’re insatiable.” Orlando kissed the top of Jonty’s head then eased out of the embrace. “If that was me being told off, it was one of the more agreeable chastening experiences.”
Raven's Hart by Davidson King
A light tap caught my attention, and I looked up to see Tony and Snow standing there. Snow, ever his curious self, was looking up, down, and around, absorbing it all, never to forget.
“Thank you, Tony, I’d like to speak with Snow alone, and then perhaps, if he has further questions pertaining to security and what you know, the two of you can talk later.”
“Okay, holler if you need me.” He smiled at Snow who nodded, and then left the room.
It wasn’t so much an uncomfortable silence as it was worrisome. Snow wasn’t a quiet person. He spoke up for everything he believed in, and on many occasions, gave me a good tongue lashing. To see him walking through my office and not making eye contact with me was jarring.
“Snow?” He jumped when I spoke but turned my way. “Would you like a drink?”
He chuckled, but it held very little humor. “What’s the strongest thing you’ve got?”
Ahh, so he was having trouble with all this. Understandable. I walked over to the small cart with some beverages and poured us each a Jack and ginger ale. I knew he didn’t like drinking because of his father, but he wasn’t kidding that he wanted a drink.
“Thanks,” he said as he took the drink and sipped it. “So, this is really weird.”
I couldn’t argue with that. “Did you read my note?”
He rolled his eyes at my obviously stupid question. “I wouldn’t be here if I hadn’t. You have Jason Momoa over there come to my house, tell me he can’t say much but to read this thing and to follow him. You’re lucky Christopher wasn’t home, or Bill for that matter, or I wouldn’t have been able to sweet talk Donny into trusting my life choices and going with Aquaman.”
Among the Living by Jordan Castillo Price
1895. New York.
It was a bright day, and yet the sunshine barely penetrated the windows on this side of the house. It made the short walk to his father’s study all the more gloomy. Not that Gabriel would be otherwise engaged, out gamboling on the lawn, or taking the carriage to town to parade around the park. When he had been summoned, he’d been going over the household accounts with the housekeeper, hardly an arduous task given Dinah’s propensity to ply him with ginger biscuits as they worked. Together, they had managed to find a way to eke out the meager allowance to feed the dwindling household this month without resorting to selling the silver and were even able to laugh about it as they penny-pinched. It might not have been hard labor, but his body was suffering the effects of the constant tension in his mind and shoulders, wondering how much longer they could go on like this.
Gabriel had no reason to think he would be receiving any good news as he knocked lightly on the heavy wooden door to his father’s study before pushing it open. And yet, he thought as he walked in, the old man was smiling, albeit fleetingly, at the papers in his hand.
“You sent for me?”
Looking up, his father beamed at him, the same indulgent smile he had always bestowed on his youngest—now only—son. It would have been untrue and discourteous to imagine Gabriel had been the favorite. Abraham Webster had loved both his sons equally, if differently, valuing their individual qualities and never comparing the two. Even after Reuben’s untimely death, Abraham had never once asked Gabriel to emulate his sibling, to try to be more like him to keep his memory alive. It would have been impossible anyway. Where Reuben had been athletic and rambunctious, Gabriel was bookish and quiet. Either trying to blend into the other would have been impossible.
“I did,” his father said, his voice breaking a little. “I hope I didn’t take you away from anything too important.”
“Dinah and I had just finished up. Do you need me to fetch you anything? Some tea for your throat, perhaps?”
His father shook his head and gestured to the seat next to him at the large wooden desk. In all the years since his mother’s death, Gabriel had never once seen his father take the seat behind the desk, always preferring instead to sit on the other side. It was an unspoken arrangement, one that needed no explanation, at least not to Gabriel. His mother had been the Alpha, the head of the pack. With her passing, the title and responsibilities should have moved to Gabriel’s brother but being that he had died some years earlier, Abraham had found himself in a position where he’d had to fight to hang on to the estate—their property, and more importantly, their name—in order to keep their home out of the hands of the bank and several less savory branches of the family, who would happily strip the assets to nothing.
Now, with his father’s failing health and the effects of some bad investments, it was looking likely that all that effort might have been in vain and they would lose the house anyway. The stress of which took an even greater toll on Abraham and thus the vicious cycle ate away at Gabriel’s life minute by minute.
Gabriel took the chair next to his father, twisting on the hard wooden seat to face him. There was a curious look in Abraham’s eyes, which Gabriel couldn’t quite read.
“I received a letter yesterday.” Abraham paused, as if waiting for a reaction or response.
Having none to such a blank statement, Gabriel could only reply, “Oh?”
“You have something you wish to tell me?”
Gabriel was genuinely perplexed, and must have looked so, as his father’s teasing smile dropped away. “I see. This makes it all the more curious.”
“What is it and why is it curious? Father. Honestly, you do talk in such riddles.”
“A solution, I think,” Abraham said solemnly, holding out the papers in his hand. “Although, what you’ll think of it, I have no idea.”
Drawing the letter slowly from his father’s grip, Gabriel didn’t know what to expect, and indeed, the words on the page were the last thing he would have ever anticipated.
Reading intently, he reached the bottom of the page and swiftly returned to the top, tracking the meticulous handwriting yet again, this time mouthing each syllable carefully, too afraid to actually speak them aloud but needing to make sure he was fully understanding what was in front of him.
Finally, he let his hand fall to his lap, the page crumpling in his grip, and looked up at his father. “Is this decided then? Do I get any say in the matter?”
“Of course you do. If you really can’t stomach the idea, then I will refuse him immediately.”
“But?” Gabriel knew there was a but coming.
The lines on his father’s face deepened as he frowned, etching his countenance with sadness. It was all the reply Gabriel needed and the burning fear the letter had stoked in his chest snuffed out, leaving only a cold stone of resignation lying heavily within him.
The old man cleared his throat; his voice weaker than Gabriel could bear to hear. “If there was any other way… I have tried, Gabriel, I have. But there is no denying the reality of our situation. I’m not much longer for this world, and when I die the vultures will descend on this house and they will strip it bare. My greatest fear is that you will be left with nothing and no one. This arrangement would stop that from happening. You and the household would be under the protection of someone we know to be a good man and an Alpha I trust. I can die knowing you’ll be taken care of. “
Reaching out, Gabriel took his father’s hand. The old man had been failing since the death of his mate, and in truth had never truly recovered from the death of his oldest son ten years before. The grief may have lessened over time, but the damage was done, and the strong, vibrant man he had once been had died along with Gabriel’s brother. Since the passing of his wife, there was very little doubt in anyone’s mind that his time was short.
“I don’t blame you. I just—” He sighed. “I suppose I’m simply a little surprised you should have asked him, of all people.”
Abraham shook his head and smiled softly. “I didn’t ask him. That’s why I thought maybe you had taken the initiative.”
Gabriel didn’t know quite what to think. He screwed up his nose and grimaced. “So, you didn’t—” His father shook his head. “So, that means…” Amusement crept onto Abraham’s face. It was the first time in a long while Gabriel had seen anything but worry and sadness there, and regardless of logic and good sense, that alone was a good enough reason to go along with it. Gabriel slumped down and let out a long breath. “Well, then,” he said quietly, “it seems I’m to be married.”
“I’m sorry, Gabriel. I know this isn’t want you wanted. And you must know I’ve always wished for so much more for you.”
His father sounded so apologetic and guilty, Gabriel forced a smile and reached for his other hand. “I know and it’s not that. It’s just…” His father looked questioningly at him, but all Gabriel could say was, “It’s just—Nathaniel Hayward? Of all people. Really?”
Lessons in Playing a Murderous Tune by Charlie Cochrane
“The police believe the sudden death of Peter Denison was due to heart failure, and there had been no need of an inquest. An outcome which Professor Lewis-Duckworth refuses to accept, believing that diagnosis covers a multitude of sins and might actually mean that the doctor doesn’t know what killed him and doesn’t want to admit the fact.”
“Professor Lewis-Duckworth?”
“Warden of Gabriel. Equivalent to the master of St. Bride’s. Not a bad chap if rumour is to be believed. Better than the bad tempered anti-social curmudgeon who was warden in my day.”
Jonty hid his smile behind his tea cup. That would have meant two bad tempered anti-social curmudgeons at Gabriel back then.
Orlando continued. “The chap who died was a retired musician. In his day he’d been a virtuoso—quite famous in musical circles—but he’d been stricken with arthritis that had come on so swiftly and severely that he’d had to give up playing.”
“That’s sad. Did the warden include all these facts in his letter?”
“Some of them. He also enclosed a selection of cuttings from the local newspapers. I can show them to you later, if I—we—choose to accept the request for help.”
Back to the uncertainty. Jonty took a deep breath. “I think it would be very hard to turn down such an appeal, Orlando. I know that’s not the answer you wish to hear, but what reason could you give that would be believable? We’re right at the start of the long vac, so no great college or university commitments to constrain us and if we pretended we were about to go on holiday, we’d be sure to be found out. You know how gossip, academic or otherwise, gets about.”
Orlando nodded. “I know that. I realise I’m being stupid and I should snatch this case up readily, because I can also imagine your mother taking me by the arm, walking me round the garden at the Old Manor and telling me that were I to have a triumph it would overlay my memories of Oxford with a layer of triumph.” He cast his eyes down. “But I’m scared.”
“Oh, Orlando.” Jonty left his seat, took his lover by the hand and—just as he’d done in the study, earlier—eased him out of his seat. Only this time he took the man into a warm embrace. “I’m not going to tell you not to be scared, that you’re fretting for nothing as all will be well, because that’s just stupid. I will say that if you’re inclined to be brave then I’m here at your side and will be in Oxford. As you’ve been at my side all the times I’ve been scared or upset because the old memories have bubbled up again. And before you start apologising for having started off a train of thought towards that particularly unpleasant station, don’t. I’m enjoying being the strong one.” He couldn’t resist a chuckle. “And from the way your body’s reacting, you’re enjoying this cuddle. Such a shame that it would scandalise Mrs. Ward if we went back to bed.”
“You’re insatiable.” Orlando kissed the top of Jonty’s head then eased out of the embrace. “If that was me being told off, it was one of the more agreeable chastening experiences.”
Raven's Hart by Davidson King
A light tap caught my attention, and I looked up to see Tony and Snow standing there. Snow, ever his curious self, was looking up, down, and around, absorbing it all, never to forget.
“Thank you, Tony, I’d like to speak with Snow alone, and then perhaps, if he has further questions pertaining to security and what you know, the two of you can talk later.”
“Okay, holler if you need me.” He smiled at Snow who nodded, and then left the room.
It wasn’t so much an uncomfortable silence as it was worrisome. Snow wasn’t a quiet person. He spoke up for everything he believed in, and on many occasions, gave me a good tongue lashing. To see him walking through my office and not making eye contact with me was jarring.
“Snow?” He jumped when I spoke but turned my way. “Would you like a drink?”
He chuckled, but it held very little humor. “What’s the strongest thing you’ve got?”
Ahh, so he was having trouble with all this. Understandable. I walked over to the small cart with some beverages and poured us each a Jack and ginger ale. I knew he didn’t like drinking because of his father, but he wasn’t kidding that he wanted a drink.
“Thanks,” he said as he took the drink and sipped it. “So, this is really weird.”
I couldn’t argue with that. “Did you read my note?”
He rolled his eyes at my obviously stupid question. “I wouldn’t be here if I hadn’t. You have Jason Momoa over there come to my house, tell me he can’t say much but to read this thing and to follow him. You’re lucky Christopher wasn’t home, or Bill for that matter, or I wouldn’t have been able to sweet talk Donny into trusting my life choices and going with Aquaman.”
Among the Living by Jordan Castillo Price
Once upon a time if you told doctors you heard voices, they’d diagnose you as schizophrenic, put you on heavy drugs, and lock you away in a cozy state institution to keep you from hurting yourself or others.
Nowadays they test you first to see if you’re psychic.
_____
Maurice was a sixty-two year old black man who had a lot more gray in his hair at his retirement party than he’d had when I first met him. We’d never been close in a way that some partners at the Fifth Precinct are. We didn’t hit sports bars after our shift for a shot and a beer. We didn’t watch the game at each others’ houses. We didn’t invite each other to family functions—not that I have any family to speak of.
Maybe it was the race difference. Or the age difference. But despite the fact that we didn’t connect on any sort of deep, soul-searching level, I was gonna miss working with the guy.
I stood behind the kitchen island and watched through the glass doors that led to the deck as Maurice ambled by. He laughed as he tried to balance a Coors Light, a styrofoam tray of bratwurst and a small stack of CDs. He looked genuinely happy. I supposed he was ready to retire—not like those guys you hear about that are forced out, along with all of their years of honed experience, in favor of some young buck who’ll work for half the salary.
Maurice set the CDs in a sloppy, listing pile next to a tinny boom box and drained his beer in one pull. I wondered if being retired would entice him into a long slide down the neck of a bottle, but then I felt a little guilty for even thinking it. Because Maurice never, ever made comments about my Auracel—whether I had taken any, or was out, or was rebounding after a weekend of “accidentally” doubling or tripling my dosage. Nothing.
Maybe that was the actual reason I was gonna miss him so much.
I turned away from the deck and made my way back down the hall, and tried to remember where the bathroom was. I veered accidentally into the rec room and a bunch of black kids, mostly teenagers, all fell silent. I nodded at them and wondered if I’d managed to look friendly or if I just came off as some creepy, white asshole, then headed toward the basement where I remembered there was a half bath off Maurice’s seldom-used woodshop.
“That’s him, Victor Bayne,” one of the kids whispered, so loud that it was audible to my physical ears. Not that my sixth sense would’ve picked it up, given that I was pretty far into a nice Auracel haze, and besides, I wasn’t particularly clairaudient. “He was my dad’s partner on the Spook Squad.”
I quelled the urge to go back into the rec room and tell Maurice’s kid that his dad would probably shit a brick if he heard that expression in his home. But that’d lead to a long-winded discussion of civil rights, yadda yadda yadda. Plus I’d be absolutely certain to come off as a creepy, white asshole then, in case there was any doubt at all.
I groped around the cellar wall at the top of the stairs for several long moments for a light until I realized the lights downstairs were already on. I made a mental note to rib Maurice about the availability of light bulbs greater than 40 watts come Monday. Except Maurice wasn’t gonna be there on Monday. Damn.
My eyes adjusted and I took the cellar steps two by two. I imagined what Maurice’s kid was probably saying about me to his cousins and friends. It was pretty plain that I was the psychic half of the Maurice/Victor team, since Maurice was about as psychic as a brick wall, and damn proud of it.
A pair of opposites forms a Paranormal Investigation Unit. The Psychs—psychic cops—do the psychic stuff, just like you’d expect. And the Stiffs—look, I didn’t name ’em—are oblivious to any psychic interference a sixth-sensory gifted criminal might throw out there. It was rough at first getting used to riding around with a guy who put out about as many vibes as a day-old ham sandwich. But I got used to it, and eventually I grew to see the practicality of pairing us with each other.
Halfway down the steps I reached into my jeans pocket and found a tab of Auracel among the old gum wrappers and lint. I felt around some more, but only managed to locate the one. I’d brought three with me. Had I taken two earlier? I only remembered taking one in the car. Oh, and there was the one I took when Sergeant Warwick came in. The irony. Popping pills within spitting distance of someone capable of cutting off my precious supply.
I swallowed the Auracel, grabbed hold of the bathroom door and barely caught myself from slamming face first into Detective Jacob Marks, the golden child of the Twelfth Precinct Sex Crimes Unit.
He was a big, dark-eyed, dark-haired hunk of a guy with a neatly clipped goatee and short hair that looked like he had it trimmed every single week. He’d always looked beefy to me from afar, standing in the background, tall and proud, as his sergeant praised his work on high profile cases during press releases while the cameras flashed and the video rolled. But up close it was obvious that he was as wide as two of me put together, and it was all solid muscle.
I think I excused myself and staggered back a step or two. The Auracel I’d taken on the stairs was stuck to the roof of my mouth and I swallowed hard, worried that its innocuous gelatin coating would dissolve and give me a big jolt of something bitter and nasty. The Auracel didn’t budge.
“So,” Marks said, deftly swerving his bulging pecs around my shoulder as he maneuvered past me. I stood there gaping and trying not to choke. “Lost your Stiff.”
A comment about the crassness of calling Maurice a Stiff stuck somewhere around the last Auracel, as I realized that Marks not only knew who I was and what I did, but that he seemed to be flirting with me. Detective Marks—queer? Who knew? And besides, he was a Stiff, too.
Or maybe he was just a jerk and the flirting notion was merely something that my mind constructed from the high it’d gleaned from two Auracels and a few fumes.
I shrugged and raised my eyebrow. Nothing like being noncommittal. Especially when I only had access to five senses, and even those were pretty fuzzy around the edges.
Marks leaned back against Maurice’s workbench and crossed his arms over his chest. That pose made him triple my diameter, and his tight black T-shirt was stretched so taut over his biceps that it probably wanted to surrender. “New partner lined up yet?”
I wondered if “partner” was also supposed to be flirtatious, as in “sexual partner.” But even my Auracel-addled mind figured that’d be a pretty far stretch. I had nowhere to lean, so I stuffed my hands in my jeans pockets and hunched a little, as kids who are taller than their classmates tend to do. Marks was as tall as I was. I like that in a man. “It’s all hush-hush,” I said, belatedly thankful that I didn’t make a tongue twister out of those last couple of words. “I think they had like a hundred applicants.”
Marks cocked his head to one side, considering me. The bitterness of Auracel spread over the back of my tongue and I swallowed convulsively—smooth move. “Probably more like a thousand,” Marks said, “but they screen ninety percent of them out before the interviews start.”
A thousand people wanted to be the Stiff half of a Paranormal Investigation Unit—homicide, no less? I imagined I’d be flattered, if I weren’t choking.
I stifled a cough and dry-swallowed three, four more times. My eyelashes felt damp.
And Jacob Marks had pushed off from the workbench and pressed right up against me. “What’s in your mouth?” he said, and his voice was a sexy, low purr. He pulled my face up against his, pried my mouth open with his and skimmed his tongue across the inside of my upper lip. “Auracel? Isn’t that the strongest anti-psyactive they make?”
How would he know what Auracel tastes like? I probably would’ve asked him myself, except I wasn’t quite fit for speaking. Or even breathing, for that matter. I squeezed my hand up between us and managed to push back from Marks before I hurled all over him. The bathroom sink was only a yard away, and I turned both taps on, scooped up tepid water with both hands, and struggled to dislodge the pill from my soft palate.
Finally, the foul thing tore free and made its way down my throat. It felt like it’d left behind a chemical burn on the roof of my mouth and the back of my tongue. I cupped a few more handfuls of water from the tap, drank them, and then splashed one on my face for good measure.
I stared down at the sink as the water dripped from my hairline. Cripes. Jacob Marks kissed me, sorta, and I was too busy choking on a pill to get into it. I assumed I’d just blown a perfectly good shot at some hot, nearly-anonymous sex when I heard Marks’ voice again coming from the doorway. Apparently I hadn’t succeeded in scaring him off. His reflection met my eye in the medicine cabinet mirror.
“One in every five hundred people is certifiably psychic, and they’re all clamoring for something to shut their talent off. What kind of sense does that make?” he asked. There was a friendly lilt to his tone of voice, but the look in his eye made his words feel like more of a challenge.
Well, didn’t he know his facts and figures? I ran my hand up through my half-wet hair. The mirror reflected it back at me. It stood up in a crazy, black thatch. I needed a haircut.
I flipped open the door to see if maybe there was some Listerine in there to wash away the taste of the Auracel, but found nothing but a bottle of Jergen’s lotion and a few yellowed aspirin left over from the Reagan Era.
“You’re a PsyCop.” I turned to face Marks. “Why don’t you ask your partner?”
“Carolyn’s all natural,” he said. And I wondered if they were fucking each other, though I guessed it was really none of my business.
I think his prying would normally have pissed me off. But I’m not normally three Auracel to the wind, so I played along. “Good for Carolyn,” I said. “Do dead people like to talk with Carolyn? All day, all night? Describe how they died? In excruciating detail?”
“Carolyn can tell if people are lying.”
“A human polygraph,” I said, and I supposed it was clever. You didn’t need someone’s consent to use your psychic ability, not if you had a federal license. But you did need a court order to hook someone up to a lie detector. “No wonder you collar so many perverts.”
Marks broke into a smile that was almost more of a leer, and I realized he was probably a lot more fun than I’d ever imagined he’d be. “It helps,” he said. “But Carolyn’s only a level two, and criminals can be incredibly evasive.” He pushed the bathroom door shut with his foot and locked it behind us. The tiny doorknob twist lock seemed pathetically inadequate, considering that any cop upstairs could kick the door in without even breaking a sweat, but maybe the sanctity of the bathroom would protect us from discovery.
Marks eased up to me and then stopped, that infuriating—yet sexy—grin plastered on his face, framed by his impossibly neat goatee. I wondered what he wanted. More witty repartee? The third Auracel was kicking in and I hardly had two brain cells to rub together, so I closed the distance between us, slipped my arms around his neck and initiated a kiss of my own.
His tongue tasted beery, but pleasantly so, like he’d just had a drink or two at the party. I wished I could drink, but while alcohol loosens me up just like anyone else, it also amps up the voices. I don’t drink.
He got a hand around my waist and slipped the other around the back of my jeans, kneading my ass hard, showing me his strength. I grazed his lower lip with my teeth and he grunted a little into my mouth, ground his fly against mine.
Marks backed me into the towel rack, which settled right beneath my shoulder blades, and started kissing me hard, rubbing up against me while his sweet tongue swept over my bitter one.
I was the one to fumble with buttons and zippers, to expose our stiff cocks to the ambient light of my ex-partner’s bathroom. Marks seemed pleased enough to let our experience take him where it would and to have me call the shots. But then again, Marks could probably pick people up whenever he was horny. I had to jump on any chance that presented itself to me and hope I was on Auracel—or at least able to get my hands on some. I really hate threesomes when one of the participants is dead.
Marks had a thick, fat cock, rock hard and ruddy. Mine had a certain delicacy and grace beside his as he took them both in his hands and pumped them, hard, even strokes, while I cupped his jaw between my palms and languidly tongued his mouth.
He knows, I thought, and though his grip was harder than I might have liked, my body still responded to it, thighs clenching and warmth building at the base of my spine. He knows who I am. And he knows what I do. And he’s willing to jack me off anyway.
I trailed my fingertips over his scalp, through his closely-shorn hair, and he groaned into my mouth, his hands moving faster on us. My breath hissed in and I caressed the tips of his ears and the curve of his jaw with a feathery touch. I sucked on his tongue.
He pulled back to watch himself as he came, his jiz rolling down over his knuckles as he clenched his cock hard, and I suddenly liked his face a whole lot better. Open like that, and vulnerable. Not the handsome, self-assured detective who always got his man, but just a guy jacking off with me. His mouth was so pretty—a little swollen now, from kissing me. I imagined it closing around the head of my cock, taking me into its soft, wet warmth, and then my hips gave a twitch and I was coming. It was a pretty energetic spurt, given the amount of drugs in my system, and the first rope of come managed to paint itself down the front of Marks’ T-shirt and across the leg of his black jeans.
I sniggered a little as I shot again, more weakly though, just over his bare forearm, and again. Marks stared at me, our sticky cocks loose in his grip, and then he broke into a big grin, too. My vision was going all starry around the edges and I was glad of the towel rack behind me, and the big cop in front of me. I still had my arms draped over his shoulders, and couldn’t think of any good reason to let go.
Someone banged on the door. “Bayne? You in there?”
I pressed my forehead into Marks’ shoulder and exhaled carefully. I could’ve ignored it, if it was anyone else but Sergeant Warwick. But that voice, in that tone, would need to be answered. “Yeah, Sarge.”
Marks gave my cock a slow, teasing stroke. It gave up a final bead of semen.
“I need you at the station. Now.”
On a Sunday? When we were all at a party, some of us drunk, some of us pill-buffered, and some of us getting lucky? Whatever it was, it wouldn’t be pretty. “Okay,” I said. I considered dropping something into the toilet to make it sound like I was taking a big dump, but then I’d either have to fish the object back out or leave it in there to screw up Maurice’s plumbing. Instead, I tugged at the toilet paper roll and tried to make it rattle. “I’ll be out in a minute.”
We both listened to Warwick’s footsteps as he headed back upstairs. Marks’ face had shifted back into cop-mode, his shrewd, dark eyes scanning the empty air in front of him as he analyzed whatever theories he was assembling inside his head. “Something big just went down.” He pulled a yard of toilet paper from the roll and wiped my jiz off his leg.
RJ’s goal is to write stories with a heart of romance, a troubled road to reach happiness, and most importantly, that hint of a happily ever after.
RJ is the author of the over one hundred novels and discovered romance in books at a very young age. She realized that if there wasn’t romance on the page, she could create it in her head, and is a lifelong writer.
She lives and works out of her home in the beautiful English countryside, spends her spare time reading, watching films, and enjoying time with her family.
The last time she had a week’s break from writing she didn’t like it one little bit and has yet to meet a bottle of wine she couldn’t defeat.
She’s always thrilled to hear from readers, bloggers and other writers. Please contact via the following links below.
Jordan Castillo Price
Author and artist Jordan Castillo Price is the owner of JCP Books LLC. Her paranormal thrillers are colored by her time in the midwest, from inner city Chicago, to small town Wisconsin, to liberal Madison.
Jordan is best known as the author of the PsyCop series, an unfolding tale of paranormal mystery and suspense starring Victor Bayne, a gay medium who's plagued by ghostly visitations. Also check out her new series, Mnevermind, where memories are made...one client at a time.
With her education in fine arts and practical experience as a graphic designer, Jordan set out to create high quality ebooks with lavish cover art, quality editing and gripping content. The result is JCP Books, offering stories you'll want to read again and again.
Alex Jane
After spending far too long creating stories in her head, Alex finally plucked up the courage to write them down and realized it was quite fun seeing them on the page after all.
Free from aspirations of literary greatness, Alex simply hopes to entertain by spinning a good yarn of love and life, wrapped up with a happy ending. Although, if her characters have to go through Hell to get there, she’s a-okay with that.
With only a dysfunctional taste in music and a one-eyed dog to otherwise fill her days, Alex writes and walks on the South Coast of England—even when her heart and spellcheck are in New York.
As Charlie Cochrane couldn't be trusted to do any of her jobs of choice - like managing a rugby team - she writes. Her favourite genre is gay fiction, predominantly historical romances/mysteries, but she's making an increasing number of forays into the modern day. She's even been known to write about gay werewolves - albeit highly respectable ones.
Her Cambridge Fellows series of Edwardian romantic mysteries were instrumental in seeing her named Speak Its Name Author of the Year 2009. She’s a member of both the Romantic Novelists’ Association and International Thriller Writers Inc.
Davidson King
Davidson King, always had a hope that someday her daydreams would become real-life stories. As a child, you would often find her in her own world, thinking up the most insane situations. It may have taken her awhile, but she made her dream come true with her first published work, Snow Falling.
When she's not writing you can find her blogging away on Diverse Reader, her review and promotional site. She managed to wrangle herself a husband who matched her crazy and they hatched three wonderful children.
If you were to ask her what gave her the courage to finally publish, she'd tell you it was her amazing family and friends. Support is vital in all things and when you're afraid of your dreams, it will be your cheering section that will lift you up.
VL Locey
USA Today Bestselling Author V.L. Locey – Penning LGBT hockey romance that skates into sinful pleasures.
V.L. Locey loves worn jeans, yoga, belly laughs, reading and writing lusty tales, Greek mythology, the New York Rangers, comic books, and coffee. (Not necessarily in that order.) She shares her life with her husband, her daughter, two dogs, two cats, a flock of assorted domestic fowl, and three Jersey steers.
When not writing spicy romances, she enjoys spending her day with her menagerie in the rolling hills of Pennsylvania with a cup of fresh java in hand. She can also be found online on Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest, and GoodReads.
Gillian St. Kevern is the author of the Deep Magic series, the Thorns and Fangs series, the For the Love of Christmas series, and standalone novels, The Biggest Scoop and The Wing Commander's Curse. Gillian currently lives in her native New Zealand, but spent eleven years in Japan and has visited over twenty different countries.
As a chronic traveller, Gillian is more interested in journeys than endings, with characters that grow and change to achieve their happy ending. She's not afraid to let her characters make mistakes or take the story in an unexpected direction. Her stories cross genres, time-periods and continents, taking readers along for an unforgettable ride. Both Deep Magic and The Biggest Scoop were nominated for Best LOR story in the 2015 M/M Romance Groups Member's Choice awards. Deep Magic also received nominations in Best Cover, Best Main Character and Best Paranormal, while The Biggest Scoop was nominated for Best Coming of Age.
RJ Scott
BOOKBUB / KOBO / SMASHWORDS
EMAIL: rj@rjscott.co.uk
Jordan Castillo Price
Alex Jane
Charlie Cochrane
KOBO / GOOGLE PLAY / AUTOGRAPH / MLR
RIPTIDE / iTUNES / AUDIBLE / SMASHWORDS
Davidson King
EMAIL: davidsonkingauthor@yahoo.com
Gillian St. Kevern
BLOG / NEWSLETTER / KOBO
SMASHWORDS / NINE STAR / B&N
EMAIL: gillian.stkevern@gmail.com
Today by RJ Scott
Dead Man's Quill by Jordan Castillo Price
KOBO / iTUNES / BOOKS2READ
The Arrangement by Alex Jane
Lessons in Playing a Murderous Tune by Charlie Cochrane
Raven's Hart by Davidson King
AMAZON US / AMAZON UK / GOODREADS TBR
Among the Living by Jordan Castillo Price
Coast to Coast by RJ Scott & VL Locey
An Erie Collection by VL Locey
Among the Living by Jordan Castillo Price
Coast to Coast by RJ Scott & VL Locey
An Erie Collection by VL Locey
The Secretary and the Ghost by Gillian St. Kevern
No comments:
Post a Comment