I Spy #3
Nothing says Christmas like a bullet with your name on it. Mark is used to death and danger. Stephen will never be okay with violence -- or Mark's attitude toward it.
Like the holidays weren't tough enough on a romance.
In October I was looking for a few non-paranormal/fantasy books for my Halloween Night post and recalled that the 2nd book in Josh Lanyon's I Spy trilogy fit the bill so I pegged #3 to re-read for Xmas. As it was with #2, I couldn't believe it had been 10 years since I originally discovered this little gem, TBH I didn't recall every little thing ahead of time but as soon as I began it all came flooding back. Guess What? It's as good now as it was 10 years ago, more even because over the past decade I've come to a new appreciative respect for short stories and can clearly upgrade to a full 5 rating.
Mark and Stephen are in a better place now but when a bullet finds Mark, some of the old issues of trust, or lack thereof, come rushing back. Some of it might be more Mark expecting the issue to rear it's ugly head moreso than Stephen actually persuing it. Mark not remembering how the bullet found him makes for just the right amount of mystery for this holiday short. When the truth comes out I loved how Stephen really stepped up to assist the man he loves. I Spy Something Christmas is the perfect way to cap off this short story series and say goodbye to Mark and Stephen.
Original Trilogy Review December 2014:
This is a perfect addition to the I Spy series and it's a holiday setting. What more is there to say other than it's perfect Josh Lanyon and I have yet to read anything of his that I don't like. The only downside maybe would be that it's just never long enough because I never want to let go of the characters.
RATING:
I don’t trust any man who says if he had the chance to live his life over, he wouldn’t do it all differently
Right. Maybe not all, maybe not everything, but if I had it all to do again, I’d make bloody well sure I woke up fewer times in hospital. Although finding Stephen sitting at my bedside was some compensation for the pounding head and throbbing shoulder.
“How do you feel?” His voice was low, his green eyes dark and unsmiling.
I nodded, licked my lips, got out, “Brilliant. What happened?”
I rather thought I knew what had happened, seeing that it wasn’t the first time it had happened — so Stephen’s terse, “Someone shot you,” wasn’t the shock it might have been. Or perhaps should have been.
“You’re going to be fine,” Stephen added reassuringly. He probably needed the reassurance more than I did. This wasn’t routine for him. Actually, it wasn’t routine for me either anymore, not since I gave up the spy game six months ago and settled down so Stephen could make an honest man of me.
“I’m all right.” I squeezed his hand and he squeezed back.
The room was as dark as hospital rooms get — not particularly dark — it was clearly very late. The window across from the bed offered a view of lightless night. Now and again white splotches hit the glass and vanished. It was snowing again.
After a time it occurred to me to ask, “Who shot me?”
“You don’t remember?”
I put a hand up to my head. There was a plaster over my left temple, and stitches beneath the adhesive bandage. “No. What happened?”
Stephen was watching me closely. “That’s what the campus police and the sheriff’s office would like to know.”
“It happened at the university?”
“Yes.”
“Was anyone else hurt?”
“No.”
I waited for him to go on, but he said, “I’m not supposed to discuss it with you until you’ve given your statement.”
Confusing. Very.
“It’s going to be a brief statement. The last I recall I was sitting in Smith Library.”
“I see. That’s the official explanation?” Stephen sounded very Southern Gentleman. His face gave nothing away, which in itself was a tell. My heart sank. I’d hoped the old distrust and disappointment were behind us.
“It’s the only explanation.”
He didn’t believe me. He was too polite to say so, my being injured and all, but I was getting to know Stephen pretty well by now.
“I don’t lie to you, Stephen.”
He nodded. He still held my hand, so I preferred to concentrate on what he was communicating by touch. His thumb feathered across my knuckles. Shhh. Shhh now…
My head was still thumping away in time to my heartbeats. More than anything I wanted to close my eyes and forget my troubles for a while. But that was not an option.
I said, “When I can get out of here?”
“Honey, you’re not going anywhere.” Stephen sounded definite on that score. “You’ve got a concussion. They’re going to keep you at least forty eight hours for observation and tests.”
“No. Not necessary.”
“It’s absolutely necessary.”
“I’m not spending the night here. I hate hospitals.”
“I know,” Stephen said dryly. “It’s a little awkward, me being a doctor and all.”
I sputtered a laugh and sat up gingerly. I couldn’t have been too concussed since I didn’t fall over again, but the blood thudded in my temples and my stomach gave a dangerous lurch. I was out of practice, that was the trouble.
Stephen let go of my hand and stood over me. He put his hands on my shoulders–my good shoulder anyway–trying to press me back in the hospital bed, but I wasn’t having any of it, and he wasn’t prepared to wrestle me down. “Mark, this is idiotic. It’s after midnight.”
“Then it’s high time we were home and in bed.” I held my arm with the IV out to him. “Will you do the honors or shall I?”
He swore under his breath then gently, deftly unhooked me. I stood up, gripping the bed rail for support.
“Mark–“
“I know. Can you take care of everything? Fill out the paperwork? Talk to whoever you have to talk to.”
“It doesn’t work like that!”
But it did and we both knew it. “Stephen, I need your co–help. I can’t sleep here. I want to go home.” That was true, but more to the point, until I knew what had happened to me–and why–I needed to be on my own turf where I could more effectively assess and respond to potential threat.
Josh LanyonBestselling author of over sixty titles of classic Male/Male fiction featuring twisty mystery, kickass adventure and unapologetic man-on-man romance, JOSH LANYON has been called "the Agatha Christie of gay mystery."
Her work has been translated into eleven languages. The FBI thriller Fair Game was the first male/male title to be published by Harlequin Mondadori, the largest romance publisher in Italy. Stranger on the Shore (Harper Collins Italia) was the first M/M title to be published in print. In 2016 Fatal Shadows placed #5 in Japan's annual Boy Love novel list (the first and only title by a foreign author to place on the list).
The Adrien English Series was awarded All Time Favorite Male Male Couple in the 2nd Annual contest held by the Goodreads M/M Group (which has over 22,000 members). Josh is an Eppie Award winner, a four-time Lambda Literary Award finalist for Gay Mystery, and the first ever recipient of the Goodreads Favorite M/M Author Lifetime Achievement award.
Josh is married and they live in Southern California.Her work has been translated into eleven languages. The FBI thriller Fair Game was the first male/male title to be published by Harlequin Mondadori, the largest romance publisher in Italy. Stranger on the Shore (Harper Collins Italia) was the first M/M title to be published in print. In 2016 Fatal Shadows placed #5 in Japan's annual Boy Love novel list (the first and only title by a foreign author to place on the list).
The Adrien English Series was awarded All Time Favorite Male Male Couple in the 2nd Annual contest held by the Goodreads M/M Group (which has over 22,000 members). Josh is an Eppie Award winner, a four-time Lambda Literary Award finalist for Gay Mystery, and the first ever recipient of the Goodreads Favorite M/M Author Lifetime Achievement award.
EMAIL: josh.lanyon@sbcglobal.net
Series
KOBO / CHIRP / GOOGLE PLAY
