Thursday, February 29, 2024

⏳Throwback Thursday's Time Machine⏳: A Dangerous Dance by Davidson King



Summary:
Haven Hart #3
Finally working for a man he can trust has given Bill a new purpose. His boss, Christopher Manos, commands respect and absolute loyalty, and Bill has proven himself worthy of a seat at Christopher’s table. Becoming best friends with Christopher’s husband, Snow, has further proven his allegiance and cements a place for him in the Manos family. When Snow’s life is in danger, Christopher places his full trust in Bill to destroy anything and anyone that poses a threat to his husband. But hunting and wiping out the enemy for the safety of everyone Bill cares about means partnering with the one person he has vowed to never see again.

Mace wears a mask of vain cockiness and uses his model good looks to his full advantage. Known to many as Without a Trace Mace, he’s a deadly assassin well known for wiping out whole families and getting away without a trace. With a dangerous past and an unknown future, Mace uses his veil of conceit to keep others at a distance, rarely trusting anyone. When his boss, Black--the one man he trusts above all others—gives him his next assignment, he learns his newest partner is none other than Bill, the man he’d do anything to avoid.

With the safety of the Manos family on the line at the hands of a brilliant maniac, Bill and Mace begrudgingly put their differences aside to ensure Snow, and his loved ones, are protected from harm.  With their lives in grave danger and the clock ticking towards zero hour, they navigate deathly perilous situations and uncertain outcomes, hoping they survive long enough to keep the Manos family safe.

Bill and Mace’s traitorous hearts draw them closer together no matter how hard they fight the inevitable. With the lives of their loved ones hanging in the balance, they find themselves in the middle of a dangerous dance. But when the music stops, will they both be left standing?


Original ebook Review July 2018:
When Bill found himself working for Christopher Manos he not only found a job and position suited for him but he finally found a home and a  family in his friendship with Christopher's husband, Snow.  "Without a Trace Mace" has spent a long time carving out a name for himself in his business of death and he couldn't have done it without the help of his boss Black.  When Snow's life is threatened, Christopher cashes in a favor with Black and now Bill and Mace find themselves once again having to endure each other's company to get the job handed to them done.  When all is said and done, will anyone be left standing? And more imporantly, will Bill and Mace's hearts be left intact?

Let's get it out of the way right now: there will be no spoilers in this review.  As to what I will touch on the plot: HOLY HANNAH BATMAN!!!  If you thought Bill and Mace got on each other's nerves in Hug it Out then you haven't seen anything yet.  The animosity is so thick, well as the cliché goes: you could cut it with a knife.  But, as thick as the tension is the passion is even more intense.

Okay, so that was all you'll get out of me in regards to the plot so onto the characters.  I just knew Bill was going to be special when we met him in Snow Falling but I had no idea just how much I would love him.  Did he burrow deeper into my heart than either Snow or Teddy? Probably not but I wouldn't want to try and measure the difference.  As for Mace, he is a conundrum.  You want to hate him because he is able to detach himself from his work, or at least it appears so, but he too has a soft side(don't let him know I said so😉).  As much as I loved Snow/Christopher and Teddy/Riordan in books 1 & 2, I think that Bill and Mace blossomed the most so far in Haven Hart.  Did they "grow"? No because I think that they have always been passionate people but they finally let someone else in and that is something they spent their lives keeping very limited.

Now that I've talked about the book let's talk about the author for a minute.  I said in my review for Hug it Out "when their debut novel is as amazing as Snow Falling was, one wonders will their follow-up be The Empire Strikes Back caliber or go the way of Speed 2?  I can safely and honestly say that Hug it Out is a TESB-quality sequel" and I can now say that Davidson King has continued with her amazing storytelling prowess.  I would say that A Dangerous Dance is Return of the Jedi awesomeness but as ROTJ was George Lucas' concluding entry in the original Star Wars saga and Miss King is no where near done with Haven Hart I hesitate to make that comparison but for only that reason.  The emotional and passionate WOW-ness Dance invoked was just as powerful as anything Mr. Lucas brought with ROTJ.  Some might say I'm stretching that comparison a bit, well perhaps but when I reached the final page of Dance, the sense of satisfaction and entertainment is very similar to what I feel every time the heroes are left celebrating in the Ewok village.

Now one final note: A Dangerous Dance like all the entries in Haven Hart Universe are technically a standalone because each one centers around a new pair and their paths but I find it just flows better if you read the series in order.  There are enough secondary characters and plot points that travel throughout to keep it connected.  Will you be lost if you start with Dance? Probably not, but I highly recommend starting from the beginning, trust me you won't be sorry.

Original Audiobook Listen November 2019:
First off, Bill and Mace are still just as snarky and at each other's throats(in more ways then one😉) as they were when I originally read A Dangerous Dance.  And yes, I know it's the same story so of course that part wouldn't have changed😉 but I still found them just as beautifully written with what I like to call a spot-on blend of snark and cuddle.

I won't lie, I was a little apprehensive as to how the narrators were going to pull off such an equally alpha pair as Bill and Mace because let's be honest here, Christopher and Riordan are a tad more alpha than their respective partners, Snow and Teddy.  Well, I needn't have worried because Leslie & Alces bring the guys to life with a flare that not only fits but makes them real, puts them in the room with you.  I've said in other audio reviews of mine how I collect old radio shows of the 30s & 40s and when the narration is as spot-on and topnotch as Joel Leslie and Philip Alces, I truly feel like I'm listening to one from my collection.  I expect to hear the sponsor break in with their ad or product placement.  King, Leslie, & Alces are definitely a winning combination.

RATING:



The night before, I left Mace sleeping on the couch. I’d never admit it to him, but I ended up foregoing the end of The Fifth Element in favor of watching him sleep. He was a gorgeous man. Too beautiful for a mere mortal, almost.

I remembered when we were staking out a place we thought Lee was in last year, Mace was so bored, he ended up watching cat videos. He had laughed like he was afraid of being caught. It was then I began wondering why he’d felt that way. Of course, it had only taken him opening his mouth to remind me why I didn’t give a shit.

People like Mace fucked men like Snow. Ethereal, stunning, pristine men. Men that when they rubbed up against you made you shine brighter. I fucked whoever showed me even a little interest. I wasn’t picky.

When I had worked for Roy, I never fucked the underage boys like he did. Never raped anyone like he did. I slipped into gay clubs, fucked a stranger in a bathroom, and rushed back before anyone knew I was gone. Sex for me was never a beautiful thing. It was a necessary thing. Something I did so my balls wouldn’t explode.

“We leave in ten,” Mace shouted through my bedroom door, where I was getting dressed to blend into Wet and Wild Night at Joker’s Sin. I didn’t have clubbing clothes, so I opted for a white t-shirt, black jeans, and my boots. It was getting colder outside and often a flurry would pop up out of nowhere, so I was glad I had my leather jacket.

When I stepped out of the bedroom, Mace was leaning against the wall, scrolling through his phone. Most likely a message from Black. I was able to take a moment to appreciate the physicality of the man. Long legs that would wrap nicely around my waist. The white shirt was so sheer, I could see the shadows of lean muscles I wouldn’t mind painting with my come. His dark, layered hair was longer than I’d ever seen it and my fingers twitched with the need to grip it as I thrust into his tight…

“Why are you staring at me? Do I have a stain or something?” He frantically began looking over every inch of fabric. I decided to put him out of his misery.

“Nothing’s wrong. I was just wondering if I was underdressed. I don’t want to stick out, I need to fit in.”

Mace took me in. His gaze was both welcomed and dangerous. Lust danced in his eyes and I suddenly wondered how this even happened. I hated this man, everything he stood for, and his better than thou attitude. Why was I suddenly wondering what he tasted like?

Had I not seen the want in his gaze, I wouldn’t have believed he’d find someone like me appealing at all.

“You look good.”His voice was rough and when he turned away, I felt the loss like ice water thrust over me. “Jones is driving us. He’ll watch the entrance. Zagan is unpredictable, so we need all the eyes we can get.”



Saturday's Series Spotlight
Haven Hart
Part 1  /  Part 2  /  Part 3

Joker's Sin






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.


FACEBOOK  /  TWITTER  /  WEBSITE
INSTAGRAM  /  AUDIBLE  /  LINKTREE
BOOKBUB  /  AMAZON  /  GOODREADS 
EMAIL: davidsonkingauthor@yahoo.com



A Dangerous Dance #3
TANTOR  /  AUDIOBOOKS  /  CHIRP

Haven Hart Universe
TANTOR  /  AUDIOBOOKS  /  CHIRP

Joker's Sin
TANTOR  /  AUDIOBOOKS  /  CHIRP


Monday, February 26, 2024

Monday's Mysterious Mayhem: Lessons in Exposing a Deadly Alias by Charlie Cochrane



Summary:

Cambridge Fellows Mysteries #15
When their colleague Dr Panesar is the victim of serious allegations, the Cambridge Fellows have to call on every resource to solve the problem. But in a case where nothing is as it appears and they can’t even identify who’s posing the threat, how can they clear an innocent man’s name?













You would think that after 20 books a series would be getting old, tired, rehashed . . . Cambridge Fellows Mysteries is so not getting old, tired, or rehashed.  Charlie Cochrane has kept Jonty and Orlando as fresh and original as ever.  I can't imagine my reading journey without these two Cambridge Dons detecting and romancing their way through life.

Mysteries have always been my go-to genre of choice both in reading and viewing form so there is very little that still surprises me when it comes to sniffing out the culprit(s?😉) but that doesn't mean I don't enjoy the journey from crime to discovery.  As I started off by saying some might think a series with so many entries can't possibly keep one guessing but Deadly Alias does.  I won't spoil the mystery but I will say, I lost count on how many times I thought I had it figured out but lo and behold, I'd swipe a page and my guess was foiled sending me back to square one. I did make the correct guess shortly before the reveal but the intricacies surrounding it still left me a bit baffled until all was laid out before me.  So I say with 200% certainty: kudos on the who done it as well as the what, where, why, and how.

As for Jonty and Orlando.  They never lose their spark, their chemistry, and their all around happiness with life . . . long as a good bit of detecting falls in their path.  Having read this series from the beginning I know what lays in front of the pair as well as where fate leads certain cast members but I won't spoil it for anyone who is new to Cambridge Fellows.  These newer entries are thrown about in the timeline so check out the author's website if you want to read it chronologically.  Because I don't want to cotton on to the fate of some characters all I will say is I love seeing this series return to it's "heyday" and it never gets boring when Jonty's family aid in the investigation, talk about a family business😉.

Lessons in Exposing a Deadly Alias is topnotch storytelling, weaving a web of deception that will keep you on your toes.  There are a few comments that elude to previous points  in regards to Orlando's younger homelife that was discussed in an earlier entry but the author handles it so a new reader to the series won't be lost.  Deadly Alias is a great blend of drama, humor, danger, family, chemistry, friendship, heart, and of course mystery.  The author also keeps to the era, from dialogue to social morals to clothing and so many elements in between but does so in a way that you don't feel a part of a school lesson. There may be a few liberties here and there but there's no doubt the respect Charlie Cochrane has for yesteryear and getting it right.

Whether the author keeps adding entries to the early years of Jonty and Orlando's life or she strictly moves on to adding to their older years, I will gobble them up.  Full length novel or one page holiday coda, I will devour them all.  Jonty and Orlando has become members of the family, you may not want them around 24/7 365 days a year but it's great to have them visit.

RATING:



Autumn 1912
Orlando Coppersmith loved the mellow days at the back end of summer, as the evenings darkened and the garden began to give the first hints of soon relinquishing its present glories for those of autumn. He liked the way the increasingly watery sun lit up the courts of St Bride’s college and how the light played across the desk in his study there. He even appreciated turning his thoughts back to the coming term and the challenge of knocking some maths into brains that weren’t always receptive—to see the “Eureka!” moment in a student’s eyes was still a pleasure.

But most of all he loved Jonty Stewart, who shared his life at both St Bride’s and Forsythia Cottage, their home along the Madingley Road. Although that love was at present being sorely tested.

“What are you up to now, pest?” Orlando called through the shut door of Jonty’s study.

“Nothing.” The guilty edge to Jonty’s voice and the sudden cessation of the din which had been emerging from the room gave the lie to that statement.

“Would you like me to come in and provide independent verification of the fact?”

A sound, reminiscent of somebody hurriedly hiding something, was followed by the door opening a little and Jonty’s handsome—yet guilty looking—face appearing round it. “No, thank you. There is no matter of interest here.”

“For nothing going on and no matter of interest there’s an awful lot of noise being generated.”

“Can a Kildare Fellow of Tudor Literature not have an early morning rearrangement of his filing system without having to endure an inquisition?” As Jonty spoke, he edged out of the door, closing it swiftly behind him.

Orlando rolled his eyes. At least part of his lover’s filing system usually consisted of sweeping everything into a certain drawer higgledy-piggledy. “And does this reorganisation involve a brick hammer or whatever else made that unholy racket?”

“I dropped a couple of heavy tomes on the floor. Jolly near my foot, as it happens. Would you like to inspect the area for damage?” Jonty smirked. “Or any other part of me?”



👬💙🔪💕🔫💙👬

If the men of St. Bride’s College knew what Jonty Stewart and Orlando Coppersmith got up to behind closed doors, the scandal would rock early-20th-century Cambridge to its core. But the truth is, when they’re not busy teaching literature and mathematics, the most daring thing about them isn’t their love for each other—it’s their hobby of amateur sleuthing.

Because wherever Jonty and Orlando go, trouble seems to find them. Sunny, genial Jonty and prickly, taciturn Orlando may seem like opposites. But their balance serves them well as they sift through clues to crimes, and sort through their own emotions to grow closer. But at the end of the day, they always find the truth . . . and their way home together.

********

Be sure and check the author's website for a complete chronological list of novels, novellas, free short stories in the Cambridge Fellows Mysteries Universe.

👬💙🔪💕🔫💙👬

Cambridge Fellows Mysteries


Monday's Mysterious Mayhem


Alasdair and Toby Investigations

Alasdair & Toby and Cambridge Fellows



Charlie Cochrane
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.

Happily married, with a house full of daughters, Charlie tries to juggle writing with the rest of a busy life. She loves reading, theatre, good food and watching sport. Her ideal day would be a morning walking along a beach, an afternoon spent watching rugby and a church service in the evening.


EMAIL:  cochrane.charlie2@googlemail.com



Lessons in Exposing a Deadly Alias #15

Series #1-12

Series Novellas

Alasdair and Toby Investigations
An Act of Detection #1

The Case of the Grey Assassin #2

Alasdair & Toby and Cambridge
The Case of the Undiscovered Corpse #1/#3


Sunday, February 25, 2024

🗽🎭Week at a Glance🎭🗽: 2/19/24 - 2/25/24




















🗽Sunday's Safe Word Shelf🗽: The Forbidden Equation by JR Gray



Summary:

Love Equations #3
My father’s the president and my brother’s the golden boy which leaves me the black sheep. The son who never wanted to be here at all. The white house my gilded cage, and the secret service my prison guards.

I'm nearly twenty and nothing about my life is normal.

The only thing giving me life and any motivation to get out of bed is the way he looks at me. The stolen glances across the West Wing. Heated gazes in the private dining room.

He's my father's best friend, which isn't even the worst part, he's also the vice president. Utterly off limits and I can't bring myself to care. Can't bring myself to stop encouraging his flirting, dreaming, and hoping he won't be able to resist me forever.



SPRING
ONE
THE GOVERNOR'S MANSION
I was the son of the next fucking President of the United States, and I was a fucking failure. The pariah who had returned to humble himself and beg for redemption.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” My father squeezed a glass, and the room held its breath, waiting for the glass to shatter or for him to explode.

I’d put off telling my father I was dropping out of college until the very last minute. I hadn’t left my room in a week and the only reason I ventured out into the sun this particular morning was because I had a single ounce of self preservation. I got on a plane and flew home. Facing my father seemed like a better idea than facing another week of my thoughts.

“Nope, not kidding.” I’d tried to keep the attitude out of my voice for the last twenty minutes, but even my ‘give no fucks’ nerves had wore thin.

“What do you expect me to do with this seven months before the election? We're a few weeks away from winning the nomination. This whole thing—” he gestured around his office— “Is a goddamn balancing act, and you’re telling me, after graduating high school early with honors, you’re dropping out a month before fucking finals?” My father had served almost twelve years as governor of Utah and elections were all I remembered. But now he was running for President— I hated it—every fucking minute of it.

I was my father’s biggest disappointment. I’d never be my older brother. He took to the spotlight and blossomed in it, while I’d spent as much of my time distancing myself from it as possible.

Which is why I graduated high school a semester early, after just turning eighteen, and ended up at Ole Miss playing a sport I didn’t even like. But not even the rebellion stimulated my brain anymore. Playing baseball in high school was fun, and easy. Division 1 baseball was a hellhole where spirits go to die.

Baseball scholarships weren’t really a thing—the division only allowed for around eleven per team. They were entirely based on need, which made me ineligible. The guys who were good went to Triple-A out of high school, so most of the top players at the college level weren’t majors bound. Not that I wanted to play Major League Baseball.

I’d had enough fame for a lifetime. But quitting was another X on my score card in my father’s mind.

“Last time I checked, that was not in my job description.” I turned towards Matthew Wilder, my father’s best friend and chief of staff. “Matt?”

“I don’t appreciate your smart mouth, Liam,” my father snapped.

“It’s not going to play as badly as you think,” Matt said, the only one in the room who wasn’t in a panic.

When your father is running for office, and it doesn’t matter which office, one thing gets hammered into your brain: We don’t publicly fuck up—not ever. It was the only reason I’d made it this far. Grades and scholarships and every other aspect of my life the press dissect and spread it all over the news and every other social app. Picked apart for public consumption.

“You don’t know that. We’d know if he’d told us before showing up on the doorstep after quitting,” my father said through his teeth.

I rolled my eyes behind his back.

“He’s eighteen years old,” Matt said. “He’s allowed to change his mind. I think people will understand that.”

“But we don’t know. Where is the data?” My father loved to poll about every useless fucking thing. He wanted to know everything, plan for it, but he wasn’t omniscient. And maybe he’d learn that he couldn’t expect everyone in his life to be his perfect puppets. “You couldn’t have finished the damn semester and applied to transfer?”

“I wanted to fucking die and if I had stayed another week, I would have.” I never meant to tell him. Or anyone. But I was so tired of standing up to him. It was time to shut him up. “So you may not like my goddamn lack of prospects, but it’s better than leaked photos of my corpse following you into the election.”

The room fell silent, and every one of his most-trusted, senior advisors stared at me from where they sat.

“I’m betting that wouldn’t poll well,” I said, trying to ease the tension, but it only made things worse.

My father just stared at me.

Fuck my life.

“He shouldn’t have to stay where he’s miserable. I think what Liam did is an admirable adult decision.” Matt was being so careful, tiptoeing around the massive elephant I’d dropped like a bomb. But without judgement, and I wanted to hug him for it.

“He left himself with no prospects for the fall. He can’t even apply as a transfer student this late in the year. How is that going to look?” Just like my father to not even acknowledge what I’d said.

“He can take the semester off for his mental health. I don’t think we need to hide it, if Liam is okay with that,” Matt continued, and I stared at him, hope flickering through me. “I’ve been your chief of staff and campaign manager for twelve years. I think I have some idea what I’m talking about.” He didn’t say any of it with malice. He and my father had been best friends since law school.

“We are on a completely different side of it. You won’t be my chief of staff at the White House, Matt. You’re going to be my running mate, so this hurts us both.”

“What?” Matt asked, turning away from me to stare at my father. “I’ve always been your chief of staff—” He cut himself off like his brain had processed it in slow motion. “No, James, this—I’m not a politician.”

“You have to be. We’ve polled every name across both parties and every single one of them hurts us. They have terrible voting records or skeletons. I don’t want to give away votes. If you think about it, you’ll come to the same conclusion I did. Your record is crystal clean, you’re passionate, you’re thirty-eight and good looking. You’re going to pull in women and younger voters. You invigorate me by being five years younger in ways voters love.” My father spoke with passion, and he was fantastic at convincing people to do what he wanted. But that was his job. “You’ve been the brains behind my campaigns for years, and more than that, I told you in law school, when you showed up at seventeen fucking years old, too damn young to be there with a bunch of adults, that you belonged in politics and I would not let you say no to me. I’ve kept all those promises and you’ve said yes every step of the way. Are you going to say no to me now?”

Matt rubbed his thumb over his fingers, turning in a slow circle. “I didn’t think you meant I’d be a public face of this.”

“You help me make policy from behind, but it’s my decision. It stops with me. Aren’t you tired of being beholden to someone else, even to me? As Vice President, you can have your own agenda, your own policies and projects. I told you all this years ago, you have to be in politics to make the biggest change. You know it’s true. You’ve seen it over the last decade. You will call the shots in your own office and when you’re good at it, like I know you will be, you can run in eight years.”

My father had sold him.

Matt’s face gave it away. “I hate you.”

I stepped back—edging away from where the dinosaurs of politics held court—hoping they’d forget about me. I’d Homer Simpson this bitch and vanish into the damn walls if I could.

“I thought so.” My father smiled. “Now that I’ve sold you, and your ass is on the line too, tell me this isn’t a problem. He can’t just sit home. The PR of it is terrible, so what are our options?” My father glanced around his office and was met with silence. “Are we bringing him on the campaign trail? I don’t see it playing as well as Harden.”

Matt glanced at me out of the corner of his gaze. “Maybe that’s not the best idea, either.” He rubbed his thumb over his fingertips again as he leaned against the edge of a desk. “Can he do some volunteer work? Coach baseball? Give back to the community while he applies for different colleges?”

“That might work… What do you think?” my father asked the guys who were probably strategists.

“It could. We can take some time to poll it,” one of them said. “We don’t have to release anything until the fall, when Liam doesn’t go back. We should be able to keep it under wraps until then.”

“Can I go?” I asked, my skin crawling. I wanted to tear it off.

“Fine, but we aren’t through with this conversation,” my father said, already deep into his political plotting. Which was fine with me. Maybe he’d forget I existed.

Matt caught me in the hall before I could make a full escape, grabbing my shoulder to slow me down. “Liam.”

“Why’d you follow me?” I turned to find him a little out of breath and disheveled, and just like the bastard he was, he was still hot as hell. My father wasn’t wrong about the good-looking part. Perfect to be plastered all over television. But the dark rings under his eyes told me he hadn’t slept either.

“Because none of that was okay. Your father does a lot of things right, but that wasn’t one of them. I won’t even make excuses for him.” He must have been dealing with my father’s wrath since I put a six-hundred-dollar last minute plane ticket on the Amex eight hours ago. “I’ve seen him be a lot of things, but that was atrocious.”

“Thank you for that, but none of it was a surprise. I know who he is, and he does a lot of good for a lot of people, but he’s a shit parent.” I’d never been so candid with Matt. I didn’t know what brought it out.

“I’m beginning to see that myself. I’ll talk to him.”

“Don’t. Please don’t.” I didn’t want to end up in family therapy or something. Talk about my worst fucking nightmare.

“If that’s what you want.” He exhaled and frowned, studying me closer. “Are you okay?”

“I’m perfect.” I put on the fake smile I’d learned the first time my father ran for office. It had saved me on so many occasions.

“Don’t do that.”

“What?” I asked. “I’m fine.”

“No, the smile. It’s like you’re going to kill me in my sleep.”

“I’m depressed, Matt, not a murderer.” I liked Matt, but I had nothing left to even fake niceties.

“I didn’t mean… fair enough. It’s still fake, and creepy.” He moved closer, care in his gaze. It made me soft for him, but I couldn’t be.

“Okay.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” Matt was so damn genuine it killed me.

“Not even a little. Even if you won’t tell him. I just couldn’t do it anymore.” It was that simple, and that complicated.

“Is there anything I can do?” he asked, and my mind flooded with images of exactly what he could do.

I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t spent the last year numbing my unhappiness with sex. When pain stopped working, there was always another body to take my mind off life. I should have numbed myself before coming home. Because, with that offer, all I could think about was using Matt.

“No.” I kept it short. No need to slip up and admit to my father’s best friend that I’d fucked him in my head in every way imaginable.

“Are you sure?”

“Yea, I’m sure. I just have to figure out what to do to keep my father off my back.”

He nodded, frown deepening, gray eyes swimming with emotion. “If you think of anything—”

I cut him off the worst or best idea coming to mind. “Do you still run?”

He tilted his head. “Most days. I’ve been a little lax about it since you went to college.”

“Looks like I’ve returned at the perfect time to whip you back into shape before my father parades you like a show animal on national television.” I smiled genuinely.

His laugh lines crinkled around his eyes. “I’m going to need it. Fuck.” He slumped into the wall. “But do you know the best part about this? It means I’ll be his focus for the next couple of weeks, and you won’t be.”

“What do you mean—ohhh!” It clicked. My father would be too busy setting Matt up as his Vice President with the party and garnering support. He’d not have time to think about my fuck-ups. “Guess I lucked out.”

“We’ll get you figured out before then, so you have something prestigious to do for the summer, so when he does circle back, it’s not a problem anymore.” He pushed his fingers into his already disheveled hair.

I ground my teeth to keep from groaning. He could easily help me forget. Solving my problems and looking sexy while doing it. Life was not fair. Why did my father’s best friend have to be this attractive? It’s like life just kept kicking me while I was down.

“Four-thirty tomorrow?” I asked, needing to make my escape before I destroyed my life any further.

“Yes.”

“Try to get some sleep before then.”

“No promises.”





JR Gray

Gray is a cynical Chicago native, who drinks coffee all day, barely sleeps, and is a little too fashion obsessed. He writes realistic and damaged characters because everyone deserves a happily ever after.


WEBSITE  /  NEWSLETTER  /  CHIRP
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The Forbidden Equation 

Series