To give you a little advanced taste of what to expect, here's a book blurb and excerpt. Enjoy!
Book two in the Uniform Encounters Series
Native American Quinn and Detective Jake come from two opposing worlds. But when opposites attract, the result is explosive.
The Bondage Butcher has just claimed his third victim, and newly promoted homicide detective Jake Gutierrez is anxious to speak to the one man who has been intimate with all three victims—Quinn Verdugo. The reclusive and mysterious artist and poet stays just out of Jake’s grasp, until one night when they catch him trespassing at his ancestor’s ancient ruins. Quinn is devastated by the recent murders, and for the men he once dallied with. Not trusting his heart to anyone since a cruel rejection in his teens, he trusts the police department of Mesa, Arizona even less. He is determined to find the bastard who is committing these gruesome murders, and take care of things himself. When Jake and Quinn finally meet face to face in the interrogation room, both men are startled at the direction things take. Agreeing to work together, they have no idea the dangers they have yet to face. But what is more dangerous – the murderer, or the spark that has been created between the two very combustible men?
Excerpt
“What is it, Cole? Why
are you acting like this?”
“What do you mean? I’m
not acting like anything. Come on, let’s go to the ruins, the guard won’t be
back to that section for over an hour.”
Cole pulled abruptly
away from him, and picked up his pace, heading over to where the Hohokam had
lived in a peaceful community hundreds of years ago. Quinn followed him
wordlessly, not missing the hurry in Cole’s steps, as well as the lack of secrecy in his
pace. He might as well announce to the world that they were there with all of
his crunching and grinding on the dirt. They reached the edge of the ruins, and
went behind one of the rectangular structures made from calcium deposit. This
had been the main formation where—it was surmised—the community had gathered.
It was also where certain star constellations could be seen when peering
through the cuts in the middle of the stone, and gazing towards the sky. It had
taken a long time for researchers to discover this—at first puzzling over the
openings in the caliche walls.
Quinn placed a hand
reverently on the side of the structure. He began to enter and Cole yelled out,
“Wait!”
Quinn froze and
frowned at the man. Barely above a whisper he said, “Keep your voice down. The
guard could still be within earshot.”
Cole cleared his
throat. “I…just don’t want to go in there.”
“Cole, I needed to see
you like this because of the murders. I want you to reconsider what we talked
about before. I just don’t think it’s a good idea for you to stay here right
now…”
Cole’s eyes widened as
if he were seeing something that Quinn couldn’t.
“I’m so sorry—please
forgive me.” Cole dropped his head and began to weep softly.
“What the…?”
“Gotcha!”
Someone’s strong hand
seized his shoulder, and Quinn whirled around, ready to take his assailant down, assuming he must be the killer.
Instead, he came face to face with several officers approaching from all around
the ruins, guns drawn. He looked down into the face of the man who still gripped
Quinn’s shoulder. This officer was bronze-skinned with a mop of close-cropped,
curly dark hair. He wasn’t in a uniform, but instead had tight black jeans on
and a snugly fitting T-shirt that wrapped nicely around the young man’s lean and lightly muscled
torso. His eyes were what set off the rest of his face - large and saucer-like,
a deep brown Quinn could easily drown in. A smile began to curl at the corner
of his sumptuous mouth, producing an adorable dimple, and Quinn felt his cock
twitching at the sight of it.
What the hell is the matter with me?
Quinn got a hold of
himself. “What’s this all about? Get your hand off of me!”
He went to push what
he knew was a cop’s hand off him, even if it did belong to the sweetest and
most delectable guy he’d encountered in a long time.
I feel his spirit…
No, it couldn’t be. He
had no idea what was happening to him or why there were so many strongly
conflicting emotions assaulting him at once, but he was not going to go down
some weird road fantasising about a cop.
“My dear, Quinn,” said
the man, who insisted on keeping a hand on his shoulder, “I do believe you’re
trespassing in the ruins tonight. Isn’t that correct, Mr Stillman?”
The cop looked towards
Cole who was now blubbering into his hands. He merely nodded, not able to look
Quinn in the eye.
This is the man who said he loved me more than anything. The man who
said he would die for me.
Just like all of the
others, Cole had only been caught in a sexual thrall, nothing more. He allowed
the familiar numbness to wash over him, soothing his body with emptiness. It
was the void that protected him from becoming too emotionally attached to
anyone, and prevented him from believing that someone really cared.
“So as long as we need
to take you downtown on this trespassing charge, I thought we could chat about
a few other things while we’re there. Sound good?”
Quinn stayed as cold as stone inside. His gorgeous cop was no
different than Cole, or any of the others that had piqued his interest at one
point.
Spirit my ass. I’ve been betrayed by someone I was trying to help.
I’m not going to let myself even think of another man in any other way than a
body to spend my lust on—it’s obvious no one can be trusted.
Quinn stared straight
ahead and betrayed no emotion as he was cuffed, and the sultry officer led him
by the elbow to a patrol car. His life had turned upside down ever since these
killings had begun, and men who didn’t deserve to die horribly had been struck
down, seemingly because they had once been with him sexually. Was Cole behind
all of it then? Maybe the sexy, nerdy historian that worked at the centre was
really some crazed psychopath who had a bizarre agenda.
The only thing that he
knew for sure was that he wasn’t telling these cops a thing. Not a goddamned
thing.
