Jack, Scribble and the Great Dildo Incident - free read

Jack, Scribble and the Great Dildo Incident - free read

PWP that suddenly morphed into humour and angst... Something I wrote a while back that I pulled out and rewrote... a coffee break story (edited by me, which inevitably means absolutely nothing!). Inspired by a true story

* * * * *

"Dan—yel. Fuuuuck."

Sweat collected at the base of Hayden’s throat, he had never felt anything like it, nothing as big or as unyielding inside him. It took his lover five seconds to click the cock ring in place, and almost half an hour to slide the toy fully inside Hayden. Each small turn, each push, was accompanied by kisses on Hayden’s inner thighs and more porn talk that sent Hayden wild. Daniel kiss biting his hip bones, all the time keeping up a litany of words, encouragement.

"You can take more Hayden. C’mon baby-such a good boy for me."

Daniel twisted and stroked, his free hand stripping Hayden’s dick, the movements slow and nowhere near enough to get Hayden off, the burning, the exquisite pleasure pain was his single point of focus.

"How close are you Hay? How much more can you take? Can I push more inside." Daniel twisted, again, the edge of the toy smooth and touching Hayden's sweet spot so softly so gently, too fucking much. Every so often he would add more lube, sliding the toy out almost to the tip and then pushing back in, today he had said, was about the pain of pleasure not the pleasure in pain.

"Nuh-- " It was impossible to form words, and Hayden couldn’t control his breathing, waves of pleasure leaving a sheen of sweat on his body.

"I love you Hayden - under me - so fucking close." Daniel flicked at the switch and a few seconds of vibration against the p-spot caused Hayden to arch off the bed, his shoulders and heels the only thing touching the sheets.

"I want—touch you—Dan—" He wanted to force the toy in, grab at Daniel and kiss him deep, sink into the taste, but the bastard knew that and the soft silk wrapping his wrists to the headboard were clever and tight enough to stop him.


"Do you wanna come? You want me to make you—or I'll maybe leave you—leave it inside you, turn it on - leave you here?"

"Dannnnnnn." Fuck, no, no…

"Hayden, shit, so fucking gorgeous," Daniel swallowed Hayden’s length sucking, releasing, rolling Hayden’s balls with his free hand then deftly releasing the cock ring. With a few more strokes from Daniel, Hayden arched up into his mouth, whiting out and coming hard down Daniel’s throat. He wanted to say something, something lucid, something profound, god, I love you Daniel I love you, but all that came out was one word fuck.

To be fair, being on the edge of consciousness and all, meant that words were fairly redundant.


***


"The realtor will be here in ten minutes - I don’t get why you agreed to baby sit when you knew we had viewings," Hayden stage whispered.

"Calm down Hayden, Meg had an emergency. Elliot, go play whilst I help Uncle Hayden to put candles out. Lego is under the bed." He gently lowered the tow headed three year old down on to his chubby legs, watching as he toddled away from them and towards the bedrooms and his precious Lego.

There was a knock on the door and Hayden visibly paled as he went to the door to let the first strangers into his and Daniel’s home.

"I’ll be with Elliot" Daniel said softly, giving his lover’s arm a quick reassuring squeeze. Neither of them really wanted to leave this house, but they needed to move where Hayden’s work sent them.

"Elliot?" Daniel called up the stairs and laughed as the small boy started to slide down on his bottom with a box of brightly coloured bricks on his lap. "Let’s go in the Den yeah?"

"I did help Uncle 'Ayden with candles" Elliot said proudly and reaching the bottom of the stairs handed Daniel the Lego.


***


"I suggest you, er…maybe…tidy up your bedroom…for the next viewing" the realtor said, running to her car, and taking off up the street like a bat out of hell.

"What the fuck?" Hayden said bemused, Daniel followed Hayden up the stairs, stopping so suddenly at their open bedroom door that Daniel walked right into him.

"What?" Daniel asked irritated at the whole sudden stopping thing.

"Holy shit" Hayden managed to get out, "Holy fucking, fuck" he added, still not with the moving out of the way thing, his six four muscled body a definite block to vision.

"What?"

Hayden just moved to one side and what Daniel saw was such a shock, that the burst of hysteria that bubbled from his mouth was loud and sudden. On the bedside cabinet; one pair of handcuffs, one economy pump dispenser of lube, one pack of hygiene wipes - and one god damn enormous dildo.

"See Uncle 'Ayden," said a small proud voice, "I did do candles for you."


***


"I’ve hidden it all" Hayden said confidently and Daniel nodded, his eyes still red from crying tears of hysterical laughter, still unable to properly draw a breath, "put it behind the spare dog food in the guest room."

"Behind the…" and then Daniel lost it again, falling back on the bed, "hell I didn’t want to move anyway" Daniel said in between laughing. Hayden looked at him questioningly.

"I don’t either," he said softly, but it was lost in Daniel’s laughter.


***


Viewing two was fine, as was three, four and five. It was six that was the straw that finally broke the camels back.

"Mr Austin, Mr McKenzie, this is impossible" their realtor said haughtily. "The guest bedroom, it’s--" she huffed and left in a flurry of suit and heels.

Hayden looked at Daniel. Shit. The dogs. They had left the freaking dogs in the freaking guest room, what the hell had they done? Hayden reached the door first. It was a battle scene.

One set of handcuffs—twisted in Jack’s tail.

One economy dispenser of lube with the lid off—slick and slippery and soaking into the deep red carpet.

One pack of hygiene wipes—wipeless.

And one dildo—in pieces—chewed to fuck. Batteries and innards spread around the floor.

They exchanged looks of shock that with sudden clarity turned to doubled over laughing, both falling back onto the spare bed and alternately setting each other off in fits of belly laughs.

"It's not like I wanted to sell the house or anything," Hayden finally managed to say when he managed to catch his breath.

"Me neither." Daniel looked suddenly very serious and causing Hayden to stop laughing immediately. "I like it here."

"Then why exactly are we moving?" The question was rhetorical, their relationship was becoming more and more difficult with each year of him travelling that passed. He was lonely away from Dan, they needed to be together.

"Hay, we need to move, you being in the City, and me here—I can't handle having to spend so much time apart."

"What if I don’t want to move? This is our home."

"Did you not hear the whole no more time apart thing?"

"I could leave my job, problem solved, no more time apart." It was a simple solution and it wasn’t as if this was the first time Hayden had though it.

"Hay, no, your job is important to you, you've worked so hard to make partner."

"I don’t even like my job." Hayden said miserably. Ten years at the same firm, trying for partner, and he was so over the nine to six which had somehow turned into eighty hour weeks. "I miss you every time I leave for work."

"It's not like we don’t have savings to fall back on." Daniel sounded thoughtful, and Hayden clung to the hope of possibility that he sensed was in his husband.

"I want to set up on my own, everyone needs a good lawyer," he said quickly. "You could build me a home office in the yard. I could be at home more. No more commuting and weeks apart."

"I think we need to talk."

And then they talked for hours. Lying tangled in each other’s arms, exchanging lazy possessive kisses, until the dogs had to remind them it was time for eating and walking and other sorts of dog type stuff.

"So we agree. We stay put. Phone the realtor and tell her we are taking it off the market." Hayden summarised with a smile.

"Agreed. Tho' you may want to wait until she is over the shock of what she saw."

Simple as that they were laughing again until laughing turned to kissing and kissing turned to licking and biting and sucking.

This was perfect, just being together and making love in their home.

Thing is, Hayden thought at a random moment when Daniel's mouth travelled south, they really needed to replace that dildo.

And this time they would keep it away from small kids and animals.



The End

Spotlight on the Texas series - Dawn's Reading Nook - Competition

Spotlight on the Texas series - Dawn's Reading Nook - Competition

Today my Texas series is being highlighted over at Dawn's Reading Nook. There's also a competition to win a $20 Amazon or ARe voucher (winners choice!).

http://dawnsreadingnook.blogspot.com/2014/04/sunday-series-spotlight-texas-series-by.html




UK Meet - book ordering

UK Meet - book ordering

I will be attending the UK Meet 6-8 June 2014, and will be bringing a tiny selection of print books to sign and sell.

However from past experience I never bring enough of the books people actually want.

If you are attending the UK meet and you would like a specific book then please indicate below.

This doesn't mean you have to buy them but there is an opportunity to pay in advance by credit card etc.

Hugs RJ X


The Salisbury Key - Harper Fox - 4.5/5

The Salisbury Key - Harper Fox - 4.5/5

Can love repair a shattered life in time to save the world?

Daniel Logan is on a lonely quest to find out what drove his lover, a wealthy, respected archaeologist, to take his own life. The answer the elusive key for which Jason was desperately searching lies somewhere on a dangerous and deadly section of Salisbury Plain.

The only way to gain access, though, is to allow an army explosives expert to help him navigate the bomb-riddled military zone. A man he met once more than three years ago, who is even more serious and enigmatic than before.

Lieutenant Rayne has better things to do than risk his life protecting a scientist on an apparent suicide mission. Like get back to Iraq and prove he will never again miss another roadside bomb. Yet as he helps Dan uncover the truth, an attraction neither man is in the mood for springs up against their will. And stirs up the nervous attention of powerfully placed people military and academic alike.

First in conflict, then in passion, Rayne and Dan are drawn together in a relationship as rocky and complicated as the ancient land they search. Where every step leads them closer to a terrible legacy written in death Warning: Contains bombs, archaeology and explicit M/M sex, not necessarily in that order.

Review

This is a fantastic story, and so closely and cleverly written, reminiscent of the way Chris Quinton writes. Harper evokes memories in me of summer holidays spent near Stonehenge when I was little, and the signs all around for unexploded ordnance. It was scary then and it's just as scary now. I hated the way Jason committed suicide, and as the story unfolded I still stand by that summary, ROFL. He should have been brave and stayed, not left it to... I wont say any more, no spoilers... Some little twists, and the last third of the book seemed kind of sudden as it happened. But, I recommend this for being a bloody good read.

Buy Links

Bodyguard to a Sex God (Bodyguards Inc. #1)

Bodyguard to a Sex God (Bodyguards Inc. #1)



I have been to four separate TV series conventions and I am always amazed at how insane some people are. I always wondered... what if one of the actors had death threats... and this book was born!

The Book

Bodyguard Adam Freeman draws what everyone else thinks is the short straw at the convention for a procedural cop show - as bodyguard to TV actor Logan Brady. Or as the Internet has labelled him, Logan 'Sex God' Brady. 

Logan is taking part in a convention at a London Hotel for his show 'Night Cop' and someone is threatening his life.

Adam gets more than he bargained for when his client combines coming out of the closet with them both trying to stay alive.
"....Body Guard to a Sex God by Rj. Scott is crazy good. Not only are the main characters strongly written, so are the sub characters. The writing makes it very easy for the readers to feel what the characters are feeling.  This is a fun whodunit lite read that will keep you guessing until the very end. Just when you figure it out, the game changes...."

Bodyguard Inc. Series

Book 1 - Bodyguard to a Sex God
Book 2 - The Ex Factor
Book 3 - Max and the Prince
Book 4 - Undercover Lovers
Book 5 - Love's Design
Book 6 - Kissing Alex

Buy Links - eBook

Amazon (US) | Amazon (UK) | Barnes & Noble | Kobo | Smashwords | iTunes

Buy Links for Print Book - Vol 1 - Bodyguard to a Sex God & The Ex Factor

Amazon US | Amazon UK

Reviews

Hearts On Fire Reviews - 4/5 - "....I liked the idea of a crazed killer at a soap opera convention and the mix of both humor and seriousness that Ms Scott injected into it. Both Adam and Logan are strong and likeable characters. The story revolves primarily around Adam and Logan but there are some very good secondary characters such as Stacia and Robert. I felt the sexual tension and emotional bond between the two men to be the driving force behind this particular story. ... There are a couple of plot twists and turns in the last half of the book that kept the pace of the story moving and kept me flipping pages to the much deserved HEA...."

MM Goodbook Reviews - 4/5 - "....I loved this story for its storyline, characters and smooth flowing plot, R.J. Scott brings the characters to life giving you insight into not only both main characters, but also into some of the supporting characters like Stacia and Robert, she even gives the stalker a spine tingling personality. Adam and Logan do have a wonderful connection between them, and their attraction is tempered with the realities of their situations, they are a hot couple and they do actually take time before consummating their relationship…(mainly because of circumstances), but there are enough scenes between Adam and Logan to whet your appetite ... I have to recommend this to those of you who love falling for the bodyguard, or falling for the TV star, a great storyline, hot sex, psycho stalkers, wonderful characters and a very happy wonderful ending...."

UK Gay Romance - 5/5 - "....Body Guard to a Sex God by Rj. Scott is crazy good. Not only are the main characters strongly written, so are the sub characters. The writing makes it very easy for the readers to feel what the characters are feeling.  This is a fun whodunit lite read that will keep you guessing until the very end. Just when you figure it out, the game changes...."

Mrs Condit & Friends Read Books - 4.5/5 - ".....There are plenty of plot twists to keep you guessing to the very end, including one I didn’t see coming. I don’t want to give anything away so I’ll leave it there and wrap up by saying that I can’t wait to see more in this series...."

Rainbow Book Reviews - "....Besides the main theme, there's a lot going on in this mystery-love story, including “when one door closes another opens”; "truthfulness is the best policy", and "love will always find a way"; and more. Each sub-plot is interesting in its own right and they are all tied up nicely in a satisfactory conclusion. I'd recommend this book to everyone who enjoys a fast-paced, intriguing love story with a very happy ending. Thanks, RJ, for an enjoyable, hot romance with more than one twist...."

Click to enlarge

Prism Book Alliance - 4.25/5 - "....This seemed a really fast read and I couldn’t put it down until I had finished. It’s a real page turner that will keep your attention up to the end as working out who is the stalker is not easy as it appears, everyone is stalking him! The attraction between the two men is red hot and as much as Adam tries to remain professional he is drawn to Logan who has never had a proper relationship before. Logan is sensitive and compassionate with a small group of trusted friends who just needs a keeper and he wants desperately for that person to be Adam.

This author always gives us hot MC’s that it is very easy to fall in love for and this one was no different. Despite closets, knives, hospital trips, stalkers and living on different continents these two men fall fast and hard and seem determined to prove that insta-love exists. Now I will wait patiently to see if Ross will finally have his eyes opened!!  Roll on Book 2...."

Paranormal Romance Guild - 5/5 - "....Not only was this a beautiful story about two great men, it is also a mystery as to who the stalker after Logan is.  The mystery element in this story made it so interesting, guessing who it is.  Is it someone Logan knows?  Is it a fan?  Is it someone he works with?  There is explicit M/M sex, so this is a book for mature audiences.  Can't wait to read book two...."

Guilty Indulgence - 4/5 - "....This was a great first book in a series. I like a book that has that first strong attraction and then builds off the chemistry between the two MC's. They want each other but are both hesitant for different reasons. This book does a good job of establishing the world and introduces us to secondary characters that will keep me coming back for more...."

Because Two Men are better than one - 4/5 - "....The main characters were wonderful and quite open about their feelings which was refreshing. There is not a lot of angst between the characters but they are definitely affected by a number of issues including Logan’s closeted sexuality and Adam’s desire to remain professional. The secondary characters were interesting (please give us a story about Ross and Kyle) and the drama was just enough. With a good pace, lot’s happening and likable characters, it’s a page turner and this book definitely set the scene for a great series!..."

The Blogger Girls - "....RJ Scott has a way with character and world building that I’ve always enjoyed; and her stories are always such an immensely pleasurable non-guilty moment for me. I think this series is no exception, and many of her fans will be thrilled with these alpha bodyguards and their love interests, and I, for one, can’t wait for the book three.

Overall Impression: I really liked it...."

Nautical Star Books - 4/5 - "....I have read a number of book by RJ Scott and I can honestly say that she is a very solid author.  Bodyguard to a Sex God is not a particularly long book but every page is focused on developing the characters and story  line, as well as throwing in some nice secondary characters, a bit of angst and even an interesting little plot twist I didn’t see coming...."

The TBR Pile - 4/5 - "....The mystery is really well done and I was engaged in the world the author portrayed of a stalked celebrity.

Bodyguard to a sex god is an entertaining read!..."


Excerpt - Chapters 1 & 2

Chapter 1 

“Hey, Blondie.”

Adam Freeman showed the office manager his middle finger at the familiar and detested nickname and then crossed to the coffee machine. He was tired and just this side of irritable and Ross Jackson knew exactly which buttons to press to wind Adam up big time. Adam hoped the middle finger would be enough to get Ross to shut up, but no such luck.

“That kind of morning, eh?” Ross offered with a laugh. He sidled up to Adam and bumped shoulders, causing Adam to curse under his breath when hot coffee splashed his hand. “It’s only gonna get worse.”

Adam needed this coffee. He lived on the opposite side of London from Bodyguards Inc., and the traffic on the motorway had been murder, even this early in the morning. He couldn’t fault the premises—a converted barn on the land of the manor house Kyle Monroe had inherited six years ago. But he could definitely fault having to battle every commuter in the city just to get his briefing.

“How can anything be worse than an hour stuck on the M25?” Adam asked wryly. Then he really wished he hadn’t. Sitting down behind his immaculately tidy desk, Ross leaned back in his chair with his long legs in front of him and his hands behind his head. He was the picture of nonchalance yet had an air of knowing something that Adam didn’t.

“The M25 is nothing on this. We had a call-in,” Ross said. “You’re up on a Pretty Boy job.”

Adam closed his eyes and cursed. His absolute worst contracts involved being in charge of what Bodyguards Inc. labeled—off the record—as Pretty Boys. Actors, singers, and in a worst-case scenario, reality TV stars. Every one of them paid well, but dealing with celebrities who had more money than sense all because they epitomized ‘star’ was his idea of hell. The last job—Jesus—that X-Factor runner-up who demanded Adam call him ‘sir’. He'd kept dropping Simon Cowell’s name like he personally knew the guy. In addition, he was arrogant, narcissistic, and had the IQ of a snail. Adam was well out of that particular job.

“Not only that,” Ross continued, “but it’s a science-fiction fantasy convention gig.”

“Convention? Like Trekkies?” Adam couldn’t believe that he’d timed his life so poorly that he was going to be surrounded by people wearing fake ears and speaking Klingon.

“No, like vampires and stuff.”

Adam cursed and Ross just grinned. Bastard. “Is it too late to take some sick days?” Adam said.

“Are you sick, Adam?” The new voice belonged to Kyle, boss and owner of Bodyguards Inc. His drawling American accent was so damn sexy and for a second Adam allowed himself to stare. Adam was fascinated by Kyle’s accent, and hell, he’d let Kyle charm him using just his voice, and maybe his large hands, any day he wanted. Pity the owner of Bodyguards Inc.—or BI as Kyle called it—was so gone on Ross, despite the fact his personal assistant remained oblivious to that fact.

“No. I’m not sick,” Adam said. No point in lying. Kyle could spot a lie a mile off.

“I have a job for you. I’m guessing Ross already gave you the heads-up? Star of an American TV series over here for a convention in London. He’s been receiving threats, had a near-miss with a car trying to run him down, and also had some objects left in his trailer on set.”

“Objects?”

Kyle peered at the list. “Antique knives on two separate occasions, four deliveries of red roses with thorns intact, and one dildo.”

“So it’s a sex thing then?” Adam wasn’t surprised. Actors weren’t renowned for high moral standards. The guy involved probably slept with everyone and had encountered someone just slightly mentally unhinged. Still, that didn’t make terrorizing the man okay so Adam concentrated on the rest of the briefing.

“The network has decided he needs tracking from airport to hotel, through the convention, and out the other side to the airplane home with a handover after one week in the US. This Friday through ten days to a Monday. Good money. You want it?”

Adam considered his options here. If he could just push past the memories of past contracts with similar clients he would be fine. It crossed his mind that perhaps he should ask if there were anything else that he could do instead.

“No chance of a nice industrial threat job? Or maybe I could work the desk for a week?” The joke fell flat as Ross narrowed his eyes at the question. No one went near the desk. That was Ross’s domain and no one else’s.

Kyle shook his head. “Sorry, dude. This is the only new thing on the BI books today. Well, not exactly the only one, but Ed and Lorna both turned Pretty Boy down. So yeah, it’s mostly your decision. If you want it, say so, otherwise I’ll tell his management team no.” Kyle waited patiently for an answer, all serious and businesslike.

“Why did no one else want the job?” Adam asked, suspicious of what he’d just heard. Kyle opened his mouth and then shut it again. Evidently the other close protection agents’ reasons wouldn’t be good ones. Ross dived in to help.

“Lorna just got off a case and she’s recuperating, as you well know,” Ross explained. Like that explained why she wouldn’t take on one of her favorite kinds of cases.

“I just got off a case as well,” Adam protested. A case involving an idiot, two guns, a case full of whisky, and a week of driving all over the bloody country. Not a good one at all.

“Yes,” Ross said dryly, “but you weren’t shot at, Adam, and she was.”

“Flimsy excuse. Bullet didn’t actually hit her,” Adam pointed out with a laugh. Gallows humor always worked best in these situations. He liked Lorna a lot; the feisty redhead was fun and damn good at her job. No one wanted to see her shot. Well, apart from her ex who had been served with a restraining order. “What about Ed?” He knew he was clutching at straws. Ed had seniority at BI, having been with Kyle since it started six years ago.

“Ed said, and I quote, ‘I can’t deal with screaming fans.’” Ross shrugged. “You know he’s far too old and grumpy to deal with screaming women.”

“He’s the same age as me,” Kyle observed. He sounded affronted and Adam hid a smile.

“See? Old,” Ross joked. Adam watched the byplay with interest. His boss was so head over heels with Ross and Adam wondered how Ross could fail to see the hurt in Kyle’s eyes at the comment. Kyle was thirty-five or as near as, and Ross was only twenty-five… still, age was an irrelevant thing in Adam’s eyes. Ross was losing out; Kyle was a good man.

“I’ll take the job,” Adam said, just to break the tension. Yes, he would do this. That was his job. He could manage ten days. Kyle tore his stare away from Ross and held out the folder with the information Adam would need. Taking the folder was implicit agreement that he would accept the job.

Kyle disappeared into his office and slammed the door shut behind him. His hurt followed him like a cloud. Ross didn’t even look up from his desk.

“Why do you do that?” Adam asked.

“Do what?” Ross responded. The question was accompanied by a distracted frown.

“Go on at Kyle about his age all the time.”

Ross huffed. “It’s only a joke. He doesn’t care. Anyway, the other computer is all yours.” Evidently the discussion was over. Ross buried himself in other work, leaving Adam to get on with what he needed to do.

There was always a strictly professional brief in the folders that Ross created and Kyle handed out. However, a good Google search often highlighted elements in the case that would be useful. Adam had four days until the client's plane landed at London Heathrow so he opened to file to build the foundation for the assignment.

Even he couldn’t help but raise his eyebrows when he saw the guy he was being assigned to look after. Logan Brady was some high-class Pretty Boy material. Twenty-nine. Brunet. Actor. Those were the basics. Adam peered at the photo; he wasn’t sure if it was just the print resolution but Logan’s eyes were really stunning and an incredibly bright blue. His hair had a soft curl to it and was in one of those short, tousled cuts. He wasn’t smiling in the photo. He had that typical shot used for publicity where he was staring moodily at something just off-camera. There was red around his mouth so Adam scratched at the photo. Nope. It wasn’t coming off the photo. Reading the label explained a lot. ‘Night Cop - Vampire, Cop. Brother, Lover. Killer, Hero. Isaac.’.

Okay. So Logan Brady played a guy called Isaac from one of these über-popular vampires-are-cool shows crossed with some kind of police procedural show. He was seriously nice eye candy. That part was going to be extremely easy to handle for ten days.

Flicking through the pack, Adam pulled out pictures of the girlfriend, a blonde-haired green-eyed beauty who clung to Logan’s arm in the photos like a limpet to a rock. Logan wasn’t smiling in any of the photos. Whether paparazzi or studio shots, he appeared to use the patented cool-vampire stare for all of them. To Adam’s eyes he just looked permanently pissed off. But then the young girls liked that kind of thing, he supposed.

A quick search had many more pictures, both the same vampire character and others going back maybe ten years to a fresh-faced Logan in some kind of teenage high school show. Adam didn’t exactly have his finger on the pulse of kids’ TV shows, nor did he watch anything with vampires in it, to be fair. But hell, if the stars all looked like this guy, then he may well change his mind. Seems vampires and pissed-off faces paid well; pictures of Logan’s house showed a small place in LA up in the hills, at least so the label to the photo said. There were paparazzi shots of Logan in his garden, Logan eating out at dinner, Logan swimming, Logan shopping. Jeez, Adam wouldn’t have been surprised to see pictures of the actor taking a shit.

The fact that the paparazzi had snapped so many photos of this TV star was no surprise to Adam. Over three-quarters of BI cases were with people in the public eye, actors, politicians, the British aristocracy, and so many other high-profile people. Adam was never sure how they coped being out there for everyone to see, but then, he guessed the money helped.

The information on the hit-and-run was sketchy. The internet had nothing apart from gossip and hearsay. Apparently a car had lost control and crossed the street, glancing the wall and coming to a stop next to Logan. Either the term ‘hit-and-run’ was not an appropriate one to use on this occasion, or the journalists hadn’t gotten the full story. Adam suspected the latter based on how the network now appeared to want to wrap their star in cotton wool.

Ross crossed over and placed sheets of paper next to the open folder. He frowned. Gone was the man who called him Blondie. In his place was serious-Ross with a focused look.

“Logan Brady’s manager sent over copies of the notes Logan’s been receiving. It’s not good. They’re all addressed to Isaac,” he said.

“The character he plays on the show,” Adam confirmed.

“Yeah. There’s also more information on the alleged hit-and-run. Logan is one lucky bastard that he wasn’t a human sandwich between two or three tons of SUV and a solid brick wall.” He left without further discussion, and curious, Adam rifled through the notes.

Words jumped out at him from the different sheets of paper; love and hate and all the emotions in between. Celebrities received threats all the time; it was almost a way of life that once you were a ‘personality’ you attracted the crazy out of the woodwork. The last case he’d worked on for the Metropolitan Police had been a stalker case and the client said she received threats just as often as she received proposals of marriage.

These notes were well written, the grammar was good, they were tidy, and Adam filed away that information as possibly useful. As to the content, there was nasty, vicious prose in one, wheedling love declarations in another, all written in the same hand and signed with the initials IR. Threats to kill Logan over some kind of relationship with an Annabelle? Adam checked the file. Annabelle wasn’t the girlfriend. A hunch had him checking the show listings. Annabelle was the heroine to Logan’s bad boy on the show, played by an actress named Marissa.

So the same guy that professed love for Logan in one letter demonstrated an equally vicious hate in the next, all because Logan’s character had kissed Annabelle in an episode. Great, so he was dealing with a total nutjob then, an irrational person with severe pretend-life issues. The car accident details Ross brought over were far more detailed than those Adam found on the internet and he spent a while looking at photos. If the car hadn’t hit a street lamp then Logan would have been seriously hurt. The driver ran but what few witnesses there were had caught sight of a woman—short, slim, with blonde hair to her waist—fleeing the scene. There were no CCTV photos, either. Apparently whoever owned Logan’s contract at the studio wanted a lid kept on things.

There was no indication that Adam had a bodyguard in the US, why did the guy’s manager think that he would need one on his visit to the UK? The probability that the perpetrator followed Adam from the US was slim. Then he reached the last note in the list. A simple two sentence missive that was written so tidily that it was a shock to read the actual words:

“I’ll be at the convention in London. I can’t wait to meet the man who is the other half of me.”

Ah. That explained the need for a bodyguard then.

“Does he have a bodyguard in the US?”

“Some kind of driver guy shadows him, but the network is getting serious and have brought someone in for you to do a handover in LA.”

“And the cops? Do they have Logan Brady under surveillance?”

“No. The agent said the cops felt it was nothing, not yet.” Adam knew where the cops were coming from, each district had a glut of certain crimes, and in LA it seemed maybe crimes against actors were the drug of choice. He knew the feeling of saying to someone, “I’m sorry, but until there is proof, until someone gets hurt, there is nothing we can do.” Still, these notes were pretty damn specific in what they were saying. As to hiring a bodyguard, BI often took on cases where the victims didn’t want police involved so that was nothing new.

“Anyway, no cops. Whoever pays Pretty Boy’s wages wants it kept low-key. A vulnerable actor makes for a shit ‘heroic, in-your-face vampire cop’ and the show is, and I quote, ‘coming up for renewal’.”

“A dead actor isn’t going to cut it much for renewal either,” Adam deadpanned.

“I checked into the initials IR; the convention organizers are cooperating but no one on their lists matches up with those initials. There are a mix of UK, European, and US fans attending the convention. Not that we can narrow it down, the letters came from the UK, tracked through to an East London PO address in Greenwich so it could be anyone already here. No addresses in the convention database match though. There are fourteen hundred attendees; it’s a big pool of bodies, eighty-five percent of them female.”

Adam looked down at the letters. Despite the statistics offered to him it would be foolish to accept at face value that a woman had written the letters. There was also no evidence that whoever wrote them would desire to drive a car straight at Logan. Nothing matched just yet and you couldn’t just cut out an entire gender based on assumption.

Ross continued, “Logan Brady is staying at the Upton Levington Manor Hotel. It’s a suite with three bedrooms so you’re sleeping there. I booked it through from tonight so whoever got the contract can get sorted.”

Adam closed the folder and knocked it once on the desktop to align the paper. A familiar buzz of excitement shot through him. Getting his teeth into a job was always a good thing. Whatever the case was.

“Good luck with your Pretty Boy, Blondie,” Ross called as Adam was leaving. A middle finger up at his friend through the glass was a nice end to the visit. He was still smiling when he reached his car over the fact he'd managed to hide Ross's stapler again. When would the man ever learn to leave the damned thing where Adam couldn’t see it?

Chapter 2

“You know why having a bodyguard is a bad thing, Jimmy.” Logan slumped back into the corner of the SUV seat and closed his eyes. How had it come to this? The letters had started out like a million others he received. Simple and to the point, they declared love and forever and very often included lace panties or some other random piece of clothing. He’d had wedding invites sent to him with his name next to the applicable girl or boy; hell, he’d had notes claiming babies as his. Nothing quite as disturbing as these letters, but then again, this person sending them was probably a mental patient or something. Mostly harmless. That was what he had to think otherwise he’d be jumping at his own shadow.

“Bodyguards Inc. is the best, Logan, and they are very discreet. I’m forwarding the mail to you with the details for the guy who is looking after you. He’s the most suitable they have for you apparently. He’s done a lot of these celebrity gigs. You have to know I’m paying a lot of money for the best.”

“You’re paying? Don’t you mean I’m paying?” Logan snapped. He immediately regretted the tone in his voice. Unlike a lot of industry agents, Jimmy was a good guy. “Sorry. I’m on edge.” Jimmy chose to ignore the quick outburst; he was good at doing that.

“BI has a fine reputation. I know a guy who knows the brother of a cousin to the man who runs it.”

Logan had to laugh. Jimmy knew everyone in one huge network of people. Locating a bodyguard agency via a friend of a brother of a second cousin twice-removed wouldn’t be a shock for a resourceful man like Jimmy.

“Anyway,” Jimmy continued, “we also have the new bodyguard that will be in place soon after you get back from the UK. Your English guy will be coming to the States with you to do what they call a handover. I’m guessing they’ll exchange notes.”

“Why can’t the US bodyguard start now and just go with me?”

“He’s not contracted until the first of the month, and the network wants you to have someone with local knowledge when you’re in England. This BI company will be more than suitable. And don’t forget you have Mike looking out for you up until then.”

“Great.” Logan felt tired and just this close to cancelling the UK trip. If it wasn’t for the fans he would be letting down then he may well have done so by now.

“Stacia wants to go with you. She’ll back you up. It won’t be any different than any other trip for the show. Just play the happy boyfriend and let her do her thing, and let the bodyguard do his as well.”

“I’m not taking Stacia. I won’t put her in any kind of danger.” As it was he had already begged off a dozen or so joint invites and begun to create a little media space between him and Stacia. She would stay safe that way.

“I don’t think the decision will be yours to make if she gets her way,” Jimmy pointed out.

“We were talking…” Logan wasn’t sure how to word this. “Stacia and I that is. She said Bryan isn’t doing so well with this whole her-pretending-to-be-my-girlfriend thing. Says it’s holding her back and that he loves her. Hell, he as good as proposed last weekend. Time has come to end this with her.” Bryan was a good guy, an cop who adored Stacia. He’d been damn patient for the last six months since he and Stacia had met. They had to keep their relationship a secret just so Stacia could keep making people believe she was with Logan.

Jimmy sighed. “I know that. She called me as soon as he asked her. She’ll cover you in London, but post-convention we probably need to find someone else. Talk to her, Logan, find out how she wants to deal with it. A discrete breakup with you in stages that we can filter to the internet should take care of it.”

Anxiety twisted inside Logan at the coming change in his ordered life. Stacia had been his wingman for three years now. The blonde beauty was the perfect foil for him and provided that brick wall between what he was and what he let people see. They’d met through the show. Night Cop had just entered its second season and she was brought on as a series baddie for a few episodes. She was a close friend, knew all his secrets. And he was a bankable commodity; her career had gone from strength to strength since they’d ‘gotten together’. She’d just landed a recurring role on a new comedy. Had to be a good thing for her; she deserved a good career and a man who loved her.

“Matt doesn’t have to hide,” Logan said. He couldn’t stop the sadness in his tone. He wanted what actors like Matt Bomer had. A partner he could really love, kids maybe someday, but still able to do what he loved—act. Finding another woman to be his plus one in order to keep his cover to the public at large was getting to be too much and he hated the lies.

“Then you need to make a choice,” Jimmy said patiently. Logan could probably quote word for word what his agent and closest friend was going to say. “Your decision is easy. Be honest with yourself and with everyone else, then deal with whatever happens next. You know whatever you decide, there will always be work for you and I will have your back in anything you choose to do.”

“I know you will, J, and I love you for it, man. It’s just… I’m coming up on thirty and I don’t have a clue what kind of roles will be out there for me as I age, let alone if I came out of the closet. I’m not sure I’d still get work as the ‘Sex God’ the tabloids keep labeling me as.”

“You don’t need the money,” Jimmy pointed out. “You could do what you want to do, go into directing, go back to school. Hell, Lo, you’ve been acting since you were fourteen, in public and in private. Aren’t you ready to be yourself now?”

“It’s not that easy. I can’t just decide to come out as gay.”

“You can. It’s very easy.”

“What are you saying, Jimmy? That I should make a different decision? I’ve been pretending for so long and hiding… and hell, what about Stacia? She’ll be embarrassed, humiliated.”

Jimmy chuckled. “This is Stacia we are talking about. She’s got balls of steel and she just wants you happy. We can manage this in a million ways. Call you bisexual, use the morals get-out clause in your contract. You can take some time off, decide what you really want now. And, Lo, remember…”

“What?”

“Thirty is a good age to change your life.”

Logan ended the call and he switched to his email. The mail from Jimmy with details of the bodyguard company was at the top of the list and he clicked on the link to view the attached photo. His eyes widened when he saw the cute blond in the photo. Well. Cute might just be the wrong word. The man was looking stern, there was no smile, and Logan couldn’t see the color of the man’s eyes or anything. But hell, the body and face were fine.

At least his bodyguard would provide him with some male eye candy to stare at when he was surrounded by a million and one screaming fangirls. The document described Logan as thirty-one, blond, brown eyes, five-ten, ex-cop, specialist in hand-to-hand combat. Brown eyes, eh? Logan loved brown eyes. And hell, with this guy he wouldn’t mind a little hand-to-hand combat either.

They arrived at the studio. The blacked-out windows combined with utilizing the lesser-known back entrance to the studio meant he wasn’t spotted. He loved his fans; without them he wouldn’t be where he was, and he doubted Night Cop would have been renewed past season one. Now on season five, he really considered himself fortunate for the show to have such a loyal fanbase. It was only… some of the fans were really intense and despite being six foot and more than capable of running quite fast, he wasn’t beyond being scared when large groups of screaming girls—and boys—got up in his space.

“Okay back there, Logan?”

Logan nodded to his driver. Mike was one of the only people outside Jimmy who knew the real Logan, and sitting in the back with scripts on the long drive from home to here had meant several long conversations with the burly driver. Jimmy had handpicked Mike and normally Mike would have gone to the UK with him, but his daughter was having a baby. There was no way Logan was taking the experience of being here for his daughter away from Mike. She was already six days late and the hospital wouldn’t let it go much further. If only she’d had it on time Mike would be going with him, could be the brick wall between him and the fans. But on the other hand, Mike wasn’t a trained bodyguard, he was just a big guy with a soft heart.

“Just organizing the trip to London,” he answered and waved his phone in front of him. Mike nodded in the mirror. The SUV pulled in beside a whole row of similar vehicles, and turning the engine off, the driver turned in his seat.

“Did Jimmy find someone good?” Mike looked concerned.

Logan recalled Adam Freeman’s details. Not the fact he was five ten with brown eyes and blond hair but the stuff Mike would want to know, the fact the guy was qualified to look after him.

“Adam Freeman, British and a former cop, came over from some kind of special department out of London, counterterrorism or something. He’s a specialist in hand-to-hand combat and is good at his job apparently.”

“An English Jack Bauer.” Mike smirked.

For a second a flash of his frequently used Jack Bauer fantasy slid into Logan’s thoughts, but he ruthlessly pushed it to one side. “I wish.”

They exchanged smiles. They’d done the whole ‘I wish I was going, sorry to let you down’ chat and they didn’t need to say anything else. Logan climbed down from the SUV.

“Later,” he said. Mike sketched a wave goodbye and left to park. Logan strolled through the maze of small buildings and onto lot five, exchanging hellos with anyone he crossed paths with. The LA sun was starting to heat the air and he shrugged off his jacket. Today was the final day of shooting episode ten and it was outside work right on into the night. That was what he needed, hard, physical fight scenes in the dark with fake rain. Hell, at least it would make him forget the letters and the fact that Jimmy was right. He had a meeting with the network in a couple of weeks and he needed to take that time to consider his entire future. He owed it to himself, he owed it to Stacia, and he owed it to the show.

Jimmy would back whatever he decided. This kind of support was invaluable to have from your agent. If Logan came out as gay or bi or whatever Jimmy spun for him, then he could at least stop lying. He’d need to handle it carefully. Stacia could be part of the fallout through no fault of her own and he didn’t want her to be laughed at in any way.

“Logan, makeup now; I have you with Teresa in twenty.” A harassed assistant scurried over with a clipboard in hand. “We need the post-fight scars and the tattoos and we need it for ten.”

And so it started.



Destroyer of Worlds - SPECTR book 5, Jordan L Hawk - 5/5

Destroyer of Worlds - SPECTR book 5, Jordan L Hawk - 5/5

After becoming possessed by the vampire spirit Gray, telekinetic Caleb Jansen thought his situation couldn’t get any worse. But that was before Graham Forsyth, head of SPECTR’s sinister Research Division, took him into custody.

Forsyth claims he can exorcise Gray before the forty-day time limit runs out. But once at RD, Caleb and Gray find themselves ensnared in a web of lies. What is the truth behind the tests Forsyth is performing on them? What does the agency really plan to do with Gray? And most worrisome of all, why does Gray sense demons within the walls of RD’s compound?

Caleb’s boyfriend, SPECTR agent John Starkweather, has suspicions of his own. With the help of his friend Sean and a shadowy organization known only by their symbol of a moth, John intends to save Caleb and Gray at any cost.

But when divided loyalties threaten his last chance at exorcism, Caleb discovers love may come at a price higher than he’d ever imagined.

Review 5/5

This is book five and brings the original story arc, Caleb and Gray, to an apex of sorts. And I love Caleb... He is my favourite character and what he does in this book... *melts*.

Now I have to wait for book 6, but at least there wasn't a huge cliffhanger, just a huge hint of where this story may go next... *can't wait

Buy Links

Eater of Lives, SPECTR book 4, Jordan L Hawk - 5/5 & Highly Recommended

Eater of Lives, SPECTR book 4, Jordan L Hawk - 5/5 & Highly Recommended

When a supernatural killer is implicated in a string of cannibalistic murders, federal exorcist John Starkweather must track the demon down with the help of his live-in lover, Caleb Jansen. Caleb is possessed by Gray, a vampire spirit who is a natural demon hunter.

Caleb’s desire to find the killer is tempered by the knowledge his own time is running out. If John can’t successfully figure out how to exorcise Gray before forty days are up, the possession becomes permanent.

When John’s ex shows up, looking for a place to stay while visiting the city on business, tensions mount even higher. Lines are drawn, and Caleb learns that some decisions, once made, can never be changed.

Review - 5/5 - Highly Recommended

If there wasn't a book 5 already out there written I would have had to hunt Jordan down and tie her to the PC and make her write it. As it is, this book is an entire story but also is part 4 in an amazing story arc that takes a twisty turn I was expecting and needing... Fabulous book, fabulous series. Highly recommended

Buy Links

Blog appearance and competition... My Fiction Nook

Blog appearance and competition... My Fiction Nook

I will be visiting many a blog up to and including GRL 2014 in Chicago. Each time I post I will just slip a little reminder onto my own blog in case you want to go see...

Of course each post I do will offer a prize, a free book, or Amzon & ARe vouchers, so it would be worth your while!

Today's blog is all about April 23rd and why this date could potentially be an important date in an English person's calendar... find out what the day is and why the English don't pull together to celebrate it like we should!

http://myfictionnook.com/2014/04/grl-author-promo-rj-scott-reason-to-stay.html

And the winner is... ShirleyAnn... congrats! 


The Summer of '76 - The Queer Town Abbey Blog Hop

The Summer of '76 - The Queer Town Abbey Blog Hop

Running from 23-26 April the Queer Town Abbey site is holding a Best Summer Memory Blog hop and not only have I donated something to the main QTA prize haul but I am offering a prize here also.

The Summer of '76

I don't much like the sun. I am your typical pale English person who only has to look at the sun to burn! I also don't like sitting in the heat, and will always find shade!

But before you call me grinch we had something in the UK that will FOREVER be remembered as 'The Summer Of '76', I was nine. Cute, sweet, adorable, you know the score. That summer went on FOREVER, or at least it seemed like it. My sister (4) and I had a permanent paddling pool out in the back garden, in the shade, and we were outside the entire summer. I don't recall sun tan lotion being used back in '76... wonders how my generation have made it this far alive! ROFL...

The situation was so bad that the prime minister
appointed a minister for drought.

~*~


In 1976 temperatures reached at least 32.2°C somewhere 
in Britain every day for 15 consecutive days.


I remember days that went on endlessly, cold drinks sat in the pool, and the news which went on and on about how hot everything was! We were allowed to play outside, and life was good. We went on our family holiday to Bournemouth (Poole, in Dorset) and probably got very hot doing so!


I'm guessing a lot of my US/AUS friends look at these temperatures and laugh because they are probably so low but to the Brits this was like living in the Sahara!

Competitions

RJ's Competition - win an ebook of choice from my back list, or a future book simply by commenting on this post.

QTA's huge competition: click here: http://queertownabbey.com/is-it-summer-yet-blog-hop/ and look for details on how to win...

I am not a reviewer, I am a reader that likes to share!

I am not a reviewer, I am a reader that likes to share!

You may have noticed quite a few recommendations on my blog and that they are ALL rated 4/5 and above.

This isn't because I rate everything I read as 4 and above.

I actually read three times more than I actually review, but unless I think a reader of mine may enjoy the book, or if I felt the book was just bloody awesome, then I don't review. If that makes any sense!

The old adage, if you can't say something nice don't say anything at all, comes to mind. I love reading a lot of books, but not all of them are 4s and 5s... nods...

I also don't do detailed reviews, I just say what I love and probably make no sense doing it.

Like the title of this blog say... I am not a reviewer, I am a reader that likes to share!


All Romance E-Books 50% sale...

All Romance E-Books 50% sale...


To celebrate Earth Day, All Romance are rebating books at 50%...

You could get the entire Sanctuary series, all 7 books, some 250,000 words in all... all for $10.50... add in A Reason To Stay, another 63,000 at $2.48 and you'll have Sanctuary coming out of your ears for days! 

Not only that, but it looks like most of my 60 or so books are discounted... the Texas series, the entire series, all five books, for under $13... Ellery (The Fireman and the Cop is only 49c!) ... the End Street series... the wolf series... Sapphire Cay...

If you ever thought you wanted to try RJ Scott... today would be a good day... :)

Also, the rebate isn't taken from the authors, but ARe cover the amount... so it's a win/win...

For UK peeps...

This rebate is from 00:01 to 23:59 on 22 April US/Central... which is up to 7pm (19:00) GMT




Reaper of Souls, SPECTR book 3, Jordan L Hawk - 5/5

Reaper of Souls, SPECTR book 3, Jordan L Hawk - 5/5

When an incubus murders the powerful ally of an anti-paranormal senator, it's up to hotshot Federal agent John Starkweather to catch the demon before it can kill again. Fortunately, he has backup, in the form of his boyfriend Caleb, a telekinetic possessed by the vampire spirit Gray.

As the political pressure mounts and bodies pile up, John discovers an old enemy protecting the incubus: the Fist of God, a group that believes all paranormals are evil. But why would the Fist work with a demon? And why would they let it kill one of their own allies?

John and Caleb need to find out fast. Because the incubus lurks at the intersection of love and longing, and it's willing to turn their deepest desires against them.


Review - 5/5


Jeez... I will hunt Jordan down after this ending... all I can say is... you're leaving it there? This book is a story that completes, a bad guy sorted, but OMG the over arching story is so addictive. My emotions got all tangled in a mess at the end... who... what... why... and Caleb *squishes him*... when you read it you'll know what I mean...

Oh John... and Caleb... and of course Gray... this is not going to be easy.

Buy Links

Amazon (US) | Amazon (UK)


Relief Valve, The Plumber's Mate book 2, JL Merrow

Relief Valve, The Plumber's Mate book 2, JL Merrow

"If you dig up the past, be prepared to get dirty."

It hasn't been all smooth sailing since plumber Tom Paretski and P.I. Phil Morrison became connected at the heart, if not always at Tom's dodgy hip. Neither of their families has been shy about voicing their disapproval, which hasn't helped Tom's uneasy relationship with his prickly older sister, Cherry.

But when Cherry is poisoned at her own engagement party, the horror of her near death has Tom's head spinning with possible culprits. Is it her fiance Gregory, a cathedral canon with an unfortunate manner and an alarming taste for taxidermy? Someone from her old writers' circle, which she left after a row? Or could the attack be connected to her work as a barrister?

Phil is just as desperate to solve the case before someone ends up dead-and he fears it could be Tom. At least one of their suspects has a dark secret to hide, which makes Tom's sixth sense for finding things like a target painted on his back...

Warning: Contains a strong, silent, macho PI; a cheeky, chirpy, cat-owning plumber; and a gag gift from beyond the grave that'll put the cat firmly among the pigeons.

Review - 4.5/5 (If you are a Brit), 4/5 (if you're not!)
Loved revisiting Tom and Phil... *hugs them like old friends*. The mystery was so much a village drama which I loved, with a huge cast of characters... :) An eccentric book that I really enjoyed.

Buy Links

Amazon (UK) | Amazon (US)

Pressure Head, The Plumber's Mate book 1, JL Merrow

Pressure Head, The Plumber's Mate book 1, JL Merrow

To most of the world, Tom Paretski is just a plumber with a cheeky attitude and a dodgy hip, souvenir of a schoolboy accident. The local police keep his number on file for a different reason—his sixth sense for finding hidden things.

When he’s called in to help locate the body of a missing woman up on Nomansland Common, he unexpectedly encounters someone who resurrects a host of complicated emotions. Phil Morrison, Tom’s old school crush, now a private investigator working the same case. And the former bully partly responsible for Tom’s injury.

The shocks keep coming. Phil is now openly gay, and shows unmistakable signs of interest. Tom’s attraction to the big, blond investigator hasn’t changed—in fact, he’s even more desirable all grown up. But is Phil’s interest genuine, or does he only want to use Tom’s talent?

As the pile of complicated evidence surrounding the woman’s murder grows higher, so does the heat between Tom and Phil. But opening himself to this degree exposes Tom’s heart in a way he’s not sure he’s ready for…while the murderer’s trigger finger is getting increasingly twitchy.

Warning: Contains a flirtatious plumber with hidden talents, a cashmere-clad private investigator with hidden depths, and an English village chock full of colourful characters with plenty to hide.

Review - 4.5/5 (If you are a Brit), 4/5 (if you're not!)

Touch of very unique paranormal ability, the quirky English characters. Love Tom and Phil. Was saddened by the experiences at school and it took me a while to warm to Phil, but I did in the end! I so enjoyed this book and moved onto book 2 pretty sharpish! So pleased there is a book 2 as I didn't want to leave this characters at all. To explain the 0.5 off, I wonder if a couple of the Brit-speak words may escape non Brit readers... It didn't detract me at all.

Buy Links

Amazon (US) | Amazon (UK)

Master of Ghouls, SPECTR book 2, by Jordan L Hawk - 5/5

Master of Ghouls, SPECTR book 2, by Jordan L Hawk - 5/5

Caleb Jansen’s old life is in ruins after being possessed by the vampire spirit Gray. Now all Caleb wants is for Gray to be exorcised so he can adjust to living as a registered paranormal. Instead, District Chief Kaniyar of SPECTR offers him a new choice: be locked away for public safety, or come work for the very agency he’s spent years trying to avoid. The only good thing to come from Caleb’s possession is his relationship with federal exorcist John Starkweather, but even that seems doomed to end before it can really begin.

John’s newest case is a nightmare: someone is summoning demons and forcing them to possess women and boys snatched from the streets of Charleston. If his team can’t find the summoner soon enough, the possessions will become permanent, transforming the victims into ghouls. To make matters worse, he barely prevents Gray from feeding on their only lead.

Can John shield his heart from Caleb, who only seems interested in a temporary hook-up? Can Caleb keep Gray under control while they hunt for the summoner? Or will the cost of solving the case be higher than any of them could have guessed?

Because the master of ghouls has set his sights on a new target: Gray.

Review 5/5

This was so good. I adore John, and we found out more about him in this installment. And Caleb/Gray I really enjoyed how this side unfurled... very nicely done... I am definitely hooked and off to buy book 3. Also this was less confusing to read from the start because the world building was evolving from book 1. Lovely.

Read my review of book 1 here: Hunter of Demons - SPECTR book 1

Buy Links



Hunter of Demons - SPECTR book 1, review 4.5/5

Hunter of Demons - SPECTR book 1, review 4.5/5

Unregistered paranormal Caleb Jansen only wants a normal life. But when a demon murders his brother, Caleb knows he has to avenge Ben’s death, no matter what the cost. Unfortunately, his only allies belong to an extremist group who would kill Caleb if they found out about his talent.

Gray is a wandering spirit, summoned to hunt and destroy demons by drinking their blood. This hunt goes horribly wrong, and for the first time in his existence Gray is trapped in a living, human body. Caleb’s body…and Caleb is still in it.

Hotshot federal agent John Starkweather thinks he’s seen it all. But when he’s called to exorcise Caleb, he finds a creature which isn’t supposed to exist outside of stories. For Gray is a drakul: a vampire.

Having spent his life avoiding the government as an unregistered ‘mal, Caleb can’t let himself trust a federal exorcist, no matter how sexy. And he certainly isn’t going to give into the heat growing between them and sleep with Starkweather.

Can Starkweather win Caleb’s trust and convince him he isn’t the enemy? Can Caleb keep Gray under control, as the drakul experiences the temptation of a living body for the first time?

Because if he fails and Gray gives in to bloodlust, Starkweather will have no choice but to kill them both.

Review 4.5/5

So I recently discovered Jordan L Hawk and I love the W&G series (see all my Jordan reviews HERE). This SPECTR series is a contemporary / different world. I found the beginning chap a little confusing and then everything just flowed... and I loved it. The world building, John and Caleb (and Gray!). I immediately went and got book 2 and I devoured it just as fast!

Buy Links

Amazon (US) | Amazon (UK)

A Case of Possession by KJ Charles, 4.5/5

A Case of Possession by KJ Charles, 4.5/5

Magic in the blood. Danger in the streets.

A Charm of Magpies, Book 2

Lord Crane has never had a lover quite as elusive as Stephen Day. True, Stephen’s job as justiciar requires secrecy, but the magician’s disappearing act bothers Crane more than it should. When a blackmailer threatens to expose their illicit relationship, Crane knows a smart man would hop the first ship bound for China. But something unexpectedly stops him. His heart.

Stephen has problems of his own. As he investigates a plague of giant rats sweeping London, his sudden increase in power, boosted by his blood-and-sex bond with Crane, is rousing suspicion that he’s turned warlock. With all eyes watching him, the threat of exposure grows. Stephen could lose his friends, his job and his liberty over his relationship with Crane. He’s not sure if he can take that risk much longer. And Crane isn’t sure if he can ask him to.

The rats are closing in, and something has to give…

Warning: Contains m/m sex (on desks), blackmail, dark pasts, a domineering earl, a magician on the edge, vampire ghosts (possibly), and the giant rats of Sumatra.

Review 4.5/5

Oh my... I think I have another new favourite. I loved this second visit to Stephen and Crane. We get to see more of Stephen *on the job* and Crane's past. And giant rats... Big rats... Huge... ewwww... brilliant story that really sucked me in.

See also my review of book 1 - The Magpie Lord - KJ Charles - 4.5/5

Buy Links

El Chico Indigente en Navidad - The Christmas Throwaway available in Spanish

El Chico Indigente en Navidad - The Christmas Throwaway available in Spanish


La Navidad es tiempo para dar-pero ¿que haces cuando a nadie le importas? Para Zachary Weston Navidad significa dormir bajo un intenso frío y nieve en un banco en el patio de una iglesia sin esperanzas para el futuro. Echado de su casa por ser homosexual, está sin dinero y sin un lugar de refugio.

Hasta que un desconocido le muestra que hay algunas personas a quién sí le importas Ben Hamilton es un policía novato en su pueblo natal. El encuentra un joven sin hogar, recién llegado de la ciudad, durmiendo en un banco en el patio de la iglesia en una Nochebuena fría y nevada.

¿Será el el que le de a Zachary su propio milagro navideño?

Comprar enlace

Amazon (ES) | Amazon (US) | Amazon (UK) | Kobo | Barnes & Noble | iTunes

Extracto

Capitulo 1
La Primera Navidad
—Oye! No puedes dormir aquí.
Zachary Weston había cerrado los ojos y se había quedado dormido. Ese simple hecho significaba que estaba físicamente exhausto, no podía seguir despierto. Rápidamente se quedó dormido. El sueño de un hombre desesperado.
A pesar del fuerte dolor en su espalda baja. Él había resistido el dolor durante la última semana. Irónicamente las heladas temperaturas habían adormecido sus extremidades, ayudándolo a calmar el dolor.
En sus sueños él veía una crepitante chimenea detrás de una reja de hierro, las flamas rojas y doradas le daban una hermosa luz al cuarto decorado por la Navidad. Un alto árbol estaba en la esquina más alejada, brillando con pequeñas dulces y brillantes luces y cintas y esferas de variados colores.
—No puedes dormir aquí.
Los regalos estaban dispersos y apilados al azar y descuidadamente acomodados, eran demasiados. Libros y música y caliente ropa estaban envueltos en brillante papel y listones plateados o dorados, su nombre escrito en letra dorada, algunos de ellos le correspondían.
—Oye, no puedes dormir aquí.
Afuera estaba nevando, no una tormenta, solo suaves copos. Que caían en una hechizante danza que se unían en suaves capas sobre el ya escondido a la vista césped. El frio se quedaba fuera de la ventana en donde las gotas se congelaban como delgados dedos blancos que formaban patrones de hielo al azar sobre el vidrio que reflejaba los colores de las luces del árbol.
—Oye…
Zach se inclinó y tomó el primer regalo, vio a su mamá. Ella sonrió al ver a su hijo tan emocionado, asintió compartiendo el entendimiento con su papá. Ambos tenían mucho amor en sus ojos.
—¡Oye!
Alguien le hablaba fuera del cuarto, pero él no podía ver quién. Pero eso no importaba porque si se concentraba con fuerza él podría enfocarse en los regalos. Se estremeció, el frio penetraba en él, e inconscientemente se movió más cerca del fuego, frunció el ceño cuando el calor cerca de él disminuyo. Estúpido fuego. Tomó el siguiente regalo, jaló el papel rojo y plateado y descubrió una suave, gruesa y cálida sudadera, en el sorprendente azul que su mamá decía que combinaba con sus ojos. A pesar del fuego, él seguía malditamente frio, y rápidamente se puso el caliente y suave material que al hacer contacto con su congelada piel se sentía muy confortable y cálido. Sonrió mientras era envuelto del afecto, del amor y el calor de una Navidad familiar mientras él estaba con su suéter.
—No puedes dormir aquí.
Zach se despertó. La voz fuera del cuarto repentinamente estaba justo en su oído y los últimos vestigios de sueño no eran nada más que recuerdos en su cabeza. Abruptamente, sus ojos se abrieron completamente y después de un segundo, se enfocó en la fuente de las palabras. Zach realmente veía muy poco más allá de la borrosa insignia plateada y el uniforme azul marino y entonces se enfocó en los ojos de quien hablaba. Había una ligera iluminación debido a las farolas de la calle y había humo blanco en el aire, creado por la respiración del hombre. ¡Mierda!. Alguien debió haberlo visto y lo reportó, o el policía lo vio. Él se tendría que mover de nuevo. Jaló su delgada chaqueta para cubrirse, el recuerdo del suave material azul le llegó a la cabeza y se desorientó momentáneamente.
Zach tenía la esperanza de evadir a la ley, cautelosamente optimista se había quedado en el cementerio esperando que fuera un santuario para pasar la Noche Buena.
—Lo siento. —Dijo rápidamente, poniéndose de pie tan rápido como pudo moverse, eso no fue realmente rápido considerando el frio dolor que parecía dividir sus huesos en dos. Maldijo cuando se le cayó la manta de sus entumecidas manos y cayó sobre la nieve en sus pies. Eso era lo único que tenía para calentarse, una raída pieza de tela que se había robado de una tienda de segunda cuando la mujer le dio la espalda. Y ahora la maldita cosa estaba húmeda.
Aún así, ese no era el momento para preocuparse por eso; el policía quería que él se moviera. Se inclinó para levantarla, solo que la tierra pareció girar a una alarmante velocidad frente a su cara. Fuertes brazos lo sostuvieron evitando que cayera de cara en la nieve, pero él se giró rápidamente apartándose. El hombre podría ser un policía, podría usar una placa, pero nadie lo tocaba. Zach sabía lo que él podría querer del niño que aún era. Él no era un estúpido, y él había esquivado lo suficiente en la ciudad.
—¿Qué edad tienes? —el policía preguntó, viéndose preocupado y muy autoritario.
—Dieciocho —Zach rápidamente mintió. Dio un paso atrás hasta que sus piernas toparon contra la banca en la que había estado descansando. El policía se acercó, parecía grande a pesar de ser unos centímetros más pequeño que Zach, su cara profundizó el ceño fruncido.
—¿Qué edad tienes realmente? —El policía insistió, su expresión calmada, su voz baja y curiosa.
Zach mordió su labio inferior, sintiendo la sangre caliente contra su lengua, el estremecimiento que comenzó en su interior se convirtió en un temblor manifiesto que sabía que incluso el policía lo podía ver. Cuidadosamente Zach levantó la manta, empapada y helada y trató de crear una barrera entre él y el oficial de
la policía con la intensa mirada.
—Diecisiete— finalmente dijo Zach, deteniendo los dientes para evitar que castañearan, —pero cumpliré dieciocho en unos días—. Él agregó lo último, dándole al policía una salida. Pero él quería agregar. Solo déjame en paz. No lastimo a nadie.
—Ben Hamilton. —El policía dijo suavemente, le extendió la mano como si esperara que Zach se la estrechara. Zach estaba confundido, esperando por el brillo de las esposas, inseguro él enterró sus manos entre la manta que sostenía.
El policía, Hamilton, no movió la mano, la sostenía firme y fija. Finalmente Zach sacó su fría mano, la textura del guante de piel del oficial era suave y extraña al tacto.
—Zach. —Se presentó con suma cautela, recordando no mencionar su apellido. El policía no lo jaló, solo asintió y retiró su mano.
—Entonces, Zach, ¿Qué sucede contigo? ¿Por qué estabas acostado en una banca de la Iglesia San Margaret en Noche Buena?
El oficial no gritó, preguntó tranquilamente, pero Zach inmediatamente iba a comenzar a defenderse. El gesto en la boca del policía era de preocupación y entrecerró los ojos mientras contestaba.
—Yo… —Zach se detuvo, pensando en las posibles mentiras, en las historias que había usado para persuadir a la gente para que lo dejara en paz. Nada parecía correcto en este momento. Había algo en el policía. Un hombre que no parecía mucho mayor que él. Un oficial que no era un policía de la ciudad sino un policía de una pequeña ciudad. No podía ser parte del sistema como los policías de la ciudad que le dirían que se fuera a casa. No tengo casa. Quizás… ¿quizás debería decirle la verdad?
—No puedo ir a casa ahora —finalmente dijo, sobresaltándose cuando la mano enguantada del policía trazó el moretón sobre su ojo izquierdo y la línea de su mandíbula.
—¿Quién te hizo esto, Zach? ¿Sucedió aquí en esta ciudad?
Las palabras del policía eran suaves quería compartir el secreto, suavemente insistiendo, no a modo de policía. Zach se alejó instantáneamente del suave toque. Una fría cuchillada de incertidumbre se le clavaba en la piel mientras que contemplaba los oscuros terrenos de la solitaria iglesia con este hombre. Parecía suficientemente amistoso, pero ¿Qué si solo era otra actuación? Cuidadosamente y tratando de no revelar sus intenciones, el vio a la izquierda y luego a la derecha. Si él fuera a correr, necesitaba saber a dónde dirigirse o podría ser arrinconado si le daba la delantera. A la derecha había un denso follaje que bloqueaba la salida, a la izquierda estaba la puerta del cementerio de la iglesia y unos escalones de piedra. Esa era la mejor apuesta. Cambió el peso a su pierna derecha preparándose para en un momento empujarlo y correr hacia la puerta. Su pierna tembló con el aumento de presión y sabía que probablemente se caería con el primer escalón. Aun así cualquier plan era mejor que no tener un plan.
—Me caí —dijo firmemente, la misma línea que había usado la mayor parte de su vida, la misma línea con la que se había ganado miradas que iban de la piedad a la duda. Cuando él les decía esas palabras a la gente de los comedores de beneficencia, a los policías en la esquina, o en el albergue de desamparados, le habían insultado, le habían hecho proposiciones, le habían gritado o empujado con disgusto. No esperaba más de otro hombre con autoridad.
—Uh huh. —El oficial no presionó por más información, solo asintió ante la sencilla declaración y dio un paso apartándose. Él habló directamente en su radio. — Me dirijo a casa ahora nada de qué preocuparse en la iglesia. —La estática quebraba la calma de la nieve cayendo en el aire, una delgada voz respondió el mensaje en el radio con una serie de códigos y un nombre, Ben. El policía vio a Zach, y Zach evaluó que ahora el policía estaba a dos pasos de distancia de él, dirigirse a la puerta sería más fácil. —No puedes quedarte aquí. Te encontraré un cuarto para esta noche, trataremos con lo demás mañana.
Zach abrió más los ojos. No iba a ir a ningún lado con extraños, no a menos que él estuviera bajo arresto. ¿Ese policía iba a encontrarle un cuarto? Probablemente uno en las afueras llamado motel. Mierda. No había forma de que eso fuera a suceder. Apenas y había salido con vida dos noches antes de una propuesta mucho más envuelta en la sugerencia de esperanza que lo que el policía le había dado. Zach había sido más que ingenuo.
Enderezándose en toda su altura él apretó los labios con determinación. Él no iba a intercambiar un infierno por otro, no correría el riesgo.
—No. Gracias, pero no, tengo que… ir a la estación a tomar el tren. —Trató de que su voz no se oyera con desesperanza, intentó oírse seguro. Oyó las palabras en su cabeza y él sabía exactamente lo que él estaba diciendo. Claramente tenía el propósito de quedarse en la banca bajo la nieve la Noche Buena y el policía debería de respetar eso. Este es un país libre.
—Está bien, Zach —el policía suspiró—, podemos hacerlo de una de dos maneras. Es tarde y es la noche antes de Navidad. Realmente quiero ir a casa a estar con mi familia y tú lo estás haciendo muy difícil. Ahora o vienes conmigo, a comer algo decente, darte una ducha y quizás ponerte algo de ropa cálida y luego tener un buen sueño en una cálida cama. Esa seria tu elección, o puedo hacer esto oficial, arrestarte y obligarte a ir.
Zach oía cada palabra viendo alrededor desesperado, la pequeña iglesia, el cementerio, la banca, la nieve y de nuevo al policía que realmente se veía joven frente a él. Estaba tan enproblemado. El hielo bajo sus pies subía por sus miembros llevando ese insistente dolor. Estaba perdiendo la fuerza de sus piernas. Él había estado huyendo durante muchos días, había logrado mantenerse lejos de todo y de todos, y solo faltaban dos días más para que dejara de huir. ¿Por qué ahora su cuerpo había decidido renunciar?
—Entonces —el policía continuó—, no tenemos toda la noche. Realmente no quiero pasar toda la Noche Buena parado ante tu cuerpo congelado y explicando tu muerte a los médicos. ¿Entonces que elijes?
Él no tenía una elección. Esa era una situación sin elección. Él sabía eso y el policía sabía eso. Se enderezó lo mejor que pudo. El dolor en su baja espalda ardía más que lo usual, a pesar de que el frio de la banca lo había entumecido ligeramente.
—Está bien. —Zach dijo tranquilamente. Después de todo él era un policía. ¿Qué podía estar mal en querer estar caliente una sola noche? —¿No en una celda? — preguntó cautelosamente.
El oficial Hamilton se dio media vuelta y comenzó a alejarse de la banca.
—No, no en una celda.
—¿Lo promete? —¡Maldición! ¿Podría haberse oído más infantil? Había manera de que se oyera como un adulto responsable que tenía bajo control su vida. No.
El policía se detuvo al verlo, y metió las manos en
los bolsillos de su gruesa chaqueta. Zach se encontró viéndolo con envidia.
—Lo prometo. —Se giró, claramente esperando que Zach lo siguiera, cómo lo hizo. Él lo hizo. Recorrió el helado camino con los delgados tenis que se había encontrado tirados hace una semana. Maldijo por lo bajo, el policía llevaba botas que le ofrecían agarre para la nieve y él tenía que luchar para mantenerse de pie. Era humillante andar trastabillando por el camino igual a un patético perrito perdido detrás del policía. Al mismo tiempo, Zach admitía que él no podría rebasar al policía si decidiera actuar ante el impulso de alejarse como alma que lleva el diablo del hombre uniformado. Así que lo siguió lo mejor que pudo.
* * * * *
Caminaron en silencio por cerca de unos diez minutos en las frías calles vacías, pasaron por la plaza principal y la pequeña biblioteca con un reloj en la pared. Eso le decía que eran las once y media.
El policía se detuvo frente a la pequeña tienda con el letrero de cerrado en la puerta, revisando la puerta y viendo el vacío interior.
Zach solo veía, raspando el hielo de los tenis con la banqueta. Entonces el policía guio a Zach hacia su casa al final de una hilera de casas similares. Las cortinas estaban abiertas y Zach pudo ver por la ventana, las luces del árbol de Navidad dándoles la bienvenida a ellos que seguían el limpio camino. El oficial Hamilton se desató sus botas de nieve en la puerta y le indico a Zach que lo siguiera.
Zach vaciló. Podía sentir el calor del interior, al ver las suaves luces de Navidad que decoraban la casa. Sin embargo el policía le estaba pidiendo que entrara a su casa. Nadie sabría que Zach había entrado en la casa. Con el policía. Con un extraño.
—¿Ben? —La voz era suave, y una mujer apareció desde alguna parte del interior del brillantemente iluminado vestíbulo, deteniéndose a un lado del policía. Ella era pequeña y bien arreglada y tenía una expresión de preocupación en la cara. Ella le recordaba a su propia madre, sin la mirada de agotamiento que ella siempre parecía llevar—. ¿Que sucede?
—El policía se quitó la chaqueta y la colgó en un gancho, quitándose los guantes y las pesadas botas.
—Tenemos un huésped por Navidad, Mamá — contestó suavemente, haciéndole señas a Zach por la puerta del frente y, como si entrara en un sueño, arrullado en parte por la voz de la mujer, Zach entró por el umbral. El calor contra su congelada piel se sentía caliente y doloroso y parpadeo ante el repentino cambio en su cuerpo mientras cerraba la puerta detrás de él. Un momentáneo miedo hizo que le doliera el estómago. Él no había estado detrás de una puerta cerrada en una semana y estar ahí lo sentía como una prisión mientras rápidamente podia decir.
Acogedor interior.
El policía, Ben, lo guio al interior del cuarto, donde la chimenea crepitaba detrás de una reja, el árbol estaba cerca
de la ventana y había regalos distribuidos al azar por el suelo. Zach le dio una real mirada al hombre que lo había sacado del cementerio de la iglesia. Era ligeramente más bajo que Zach, sólidos y fuertes músculos, cabello oscuro y ojos avellana. El uniforme se veía bien en él, ajustado y limpio. Zach odiaba los uniformes. El policía no se veía como el oficial que cuida la seguridad en los parques o en el oscuro lugar en donde él se había dormido. No se veía fastidioso o suspicaz ni duro. Eso ponía nervioso a Zach el enfrentarse con la contradicción en su mente.
—Este es Zach. Necesita algo de ropa y un lugar donde pasar la noche. —La voz de Ben era profunda y segura. Él no dio excusas por traer a un extraño a la casa de su mamá, y en respuesta, ella no se veía para nada enojada. ¿Qué, esto era como una casa de familia de telenovela?
—Hola, Zach. —Se estremeció ante las suaves palabras de la mamá del policía. —Ve y límpiate y yo calentare algo de sopa—. Ella no esperó a que él respondiera sí o no, pero en ese momento, Zach pensó que un baño limpio y realmente lavarse y quizás una cena caliente sería suficiente como para hacer que llorara. — Ben, muéstrale a Zach el cuarto de baño, dale una maquina de afeitar desechable, unas toallas y algo de tu ropa, querido—. Ella entonces le sonrió, pero Zach estaba desorientado, exhausto, y adolorido. Todo lo que pudo hacer fue quedarse de pie, no pudo formar palabras ni siquiera corresponder la sonrisa.
* * * * *
La siguiente hora fue un estupor de calor y agua en la ducha, la puerta la había cerrado con llave para que nadie pudiera entrar. La cuchilla de afeitar raspó al retirar el delgado vello de su barba de la cara. No había usado un cepillo de dientes en una semana. Se cepilló los dientes con un nuevo cepillo mientras se veía en el espejo sobre el lavabo. Zach finalmente se sintió limpio por primera vez en siete días.
La última vez que él había logrado limpiarse había sido hace dos días en la sala de espera de la estación de autobuses y el agua del lavabo estaba sospechosamente café. Tenía un boleto para salir de la ciudad en el bolsillo, a donde lo pudieran llevar, dieciocho dólares y veinte centavos. Por su propia seguridad él necesitaba salir de Harrisonburg. Solo Dios sabría a donde lo llevaría el camino, pero mientras él había trazado con su dedo a lo largo de la ruta 181 en el mapa en la pared, había esperado que quizás pudiera llegar hasta Winchester. Ahí era donde un primo segundo vivía y quizás ellos podrían aceptarlo hasta después de año nuevo.
La asistente detrás de la ventanilla realmente no se había reído de él, pero ella le dejó claro que sería afortunado si lograba llegar a mitad del camino con esa singular manera de los adultos que venden boletos. Él había aceptado lo que había conseguido. Terminando aquí en Dios sabe en qué lugar de Virginia, a medio camino de la seguridad.
Se observó a si mismo desapasionadamente en el espejo de cuerpo completo en la puerta del cuarto de baño. Su cuerpo siempre había estado demasiado delgado, mientras crecía rápidamente, pero ahora su cuerpo era huesudo. Sus ojos se veían cansados y su piel tenía un tono gris que hacía incluso más notoria su delgadez. Al menos su cabello estaba limpio, cepilló hacia atrás su húmedo cabello rubio oscuro alejándolo de la cara. Sus ojos azules parecían salirse de su cara. Estaban rojos y con ojeras y el hematoma purpura en el borde no ayudaba en el asunto. Se veía patético. Se sentía patético.
El policía le había dejado unos pantalones de algodón eran un poco cortos para su largo y delgado cuerpo, pero estaban calientitos y secos y se sentía limpio usándolos, sobre su limpia piel. Él se puso la camiseta y después una sudadera y se secó el cabello con la toalla y se vio de nuevo en el espejo del cuarto de baño, inesperadas lágrimas llenaron sus ojos. Por primera vez en días, Zach estaba realmente viéndose a sí mismo en algo diferente al aparador de una tienda. Sabía que había perdido mucho peso, podía sentirlo en los jeans que había estado usando, pero en el espejo solo veía una sombra de sí mismo, golpeado, exhausto y tan malditamente delgado.
Él se veía como el estereotipo del chico de la calle, y se asustó que en tan poco tiempo hubiera desaparecido el adolecente normal que luchaba con la escuela, quebrándose ante la imagen frente a él.
Él sabía que él tenía que enfrentar al policía y a la mamá del policía porque seguro como el infierno que no podría quedarse en el cuarto de baño para siempre.
Cuidadosamente él abrió la puerta de baño, una pequeña parte de él esperaba que el policía estuviera afuera con las esposas. Él no estaba ahí, pero eso no hizo que Zach se sintiera menos nervioso. Se dirigió al pasillo, siguiendo las voces hacia la cocina. Aparentemente ellos estaban hablando acerca de él, porque cuando entró al cuarto, el silencio fue inmediato y de alguna manera incómodo. El policía estaba sentado frente a la mesa con una taza en sus manos, se veía imposiblemente joven para ser un policía a la brillante luz de la cocina. Su —de Ben— mamá estaba junto a la estufa moviendo algo en una olla. Sus claros ojos avellana eran cálidos mientras ella lo veía a él, sus labios se curvaron en una sonrisa. Tendría que tener cuidado con lo que dijera y no hablar demasiado de sí mismo.
—¿Caldo de pollo está bien, cariño? —ella preguntó gentilmente, cuidadosamente.
—Dios si, —Zach dijo rápidamente, hizo un gesto de dolor ante su pérdida de control y se dio cuenta lo que había dicho. Era posible que se sintiera alejado de Dios por dejar que lo golpeara y lo rechazara su padre, pero eso no significaba que los otros no tuvieran creencias. Debía cuidar mejor su boca. —Lo siento, señora —balbuceo rápidamente—, quiero decir, si, me gustaría algo de sopa.
El policía resopló divertido y su mamá palmeó el hombro de su hijo, amonestándolo por el inapropiado comportamiento. Ella sirvió lo que parecía el cielo en un tazón, diciéndole a Zach que se sentara y procedió a verlo como un halcón a su comida. Él no podría preocuparse por la forma en que ella lo veía o el policía que no se había movido de su asiento y aún lo observaba. De hecho probablemente ambos lo estaban juzgando por su apariencia y por donde lo había encontrado el policía.
—¿Ben, querido, ya estas libre?
—Hasta mañana.
—Ve y quítate el uniforme. Hay algo de tu ropa arriba del último fin de semana. Quizás puedas darme algo de tiempo a mí y al joven Zach para que hablemos.
Zach levantó la cabeza, con su pan a medio camino de la boca. Hablar. Mierda. Estaba tan
enproblemado.
—Regreso en diez minutos, —Ben dijo, claro y firme, y Zach lo miró, había una advertencia en la expresión del policía —No te metas con mi mamá. Asintió ligeramente para hacerle saber a Ben que había entendido el mensaje y vio como el hombre de anchos hombros dejaba la cocina.
—Entonces, Zach, ¿supongo que no estás aquí por que tú lo hayas decidido? —Ella comenzó muy inocentemente mientras le servía más sopa y le daba más pan. Ella lo miraba fijamente. Se preguntaba qué era lo que ella veía en él y se sintió avergonzado de los viejos y nuevos hematomas en su cara, medio cubiertos por el aún mojado cabello rubio que lo tenía hacia su cara para esconderlos. Sabía que se veía más joven de sus cerca de dieciocho y que fácilmente lo confundían con alguien menor. Zach estaba consciente de cada pequeña sensación en su cuerpo, el calor, la paz, la quietud, la aceptación, pero todo eso era un error en ese momento. Él no se merecía eso, y no sabía cómo manejarlo.
—No, señora —finalmente dijo, mordiendo el pan y unas migajas cayeron en su sopa mientras comía. Si él tenía la boca llena de comida, quizás él podría evitar decir algo más. Había tenido suficientes sermones en su vida como para ser capaz de evadirlos.
—Ben dice que casi tienes dieciocho, pero que solo sabe tu primer nombre.
Maldición. Su apellido, ella quería saber su apellido. Él supuso que ya no importaba mucho ahora, cuando no había manera de que regresara a su casa. Solo faltaban dos días para que cumpliera dieciocho. Era demasiado tarde para que la mamá del policía rastreara a su familia. Tragó el pan y la sopa de su boca y se limpió la boca con el dorso de la mano, él captó la tranquilidad en los ojos de la mujer.
—Zachary Weston, señora —él finalmente se presentó—. Cumplo dieciocho el veintisiete de diciembre. —Ella asintió pensativamente y él rápidamente se llevó otra cucharada de sopa a la boca, el calor se deslizaba por su garganta como un cálido terciopelo. Ella no habló inmediatamente, solo veía la taza entre sus manos antes de hacer la siguiente pregunta.
—¿Puedes decirme por qué no estás en casa con tu familia? —Ella vaciló por un momento, inclinando la cabeza a un lado. —Supongo que tienes familia.
—Si, señora, tengo familia. Mamá, papa y una hermana. Ellos —mi papá— ya no me quería en la casa.
—¿Qué hiciste para merecer eso? ¿Estabas con la gente equivocada? ¿Drogas? ¿Alcohol?
El dolor se disparó en su interior ante las opciones que ella le daba. Eran las razones por las que un joven generalmente se quedaba sin hogar. ¿Ella pensaba que él era un adicto? Nunca había tocado un cigarrillo, menos drogas o alcohol… cerró los ojos brevemente. ¿Por qué pensaba ella que él era el culpable? Sabía que se veía lo suficientemente mal como para que la gente supusiera que estaba en algo que lo dañaba. Evitó su mirada viendo fascinado la sopa, su cabello cayó de nuevo escondiéndose así de la perspicaz mirada. ¿Debería decirle toda la historia? ¿Podría ella querer oír todos los reales detalles? Otra gente había preguntado, pero ellos realmente no querían oír.
¿Debería él darle todos los detalles acerca del estricto ex-militar que era su padre quien creía que las lecciones deberían aprenderse mediante castigos corporales? ¿O del hecho de haber sido educado en casa y del hecho de que no tenía amigos? Quizás solo debería de ir por la opción más fácil, la verdad de fondo de lo que le sucedía. Él no quería mentirle. La vio directamente, la sopa se sentía inestable en su estómago.
—Sucedió porque soy homosexual —él dijo simple y suavemente y ella se inclinó para oírlo, entonces ella frunció el ceño y se recargo en su silla.
—¿Y huiste? —ella preguntó simplemente.
—¡No!— La reacción de Zach fue instantánea. — Ellos trataron de arreglarme, pero eso no funcionó. No quería que funcionara. Ellos me dijeron que me fuera.
—Ya veo. —Eso fue todo lo que ella dijo. No oyó disgusto en su voz, pero eso no fue como que ella saltara inmediatamente y descartara lo homosexual y lo abrazara.
—Gracias por la sopa, señora. Aprecio su ayuda y la de su hijo. —Él tropezó al levantarse, sintiendo agujas y alfileres en las piernas, y se dirigió al pasillo solo para detenerse porque el oficial estaba bloqueando su camino. El hombre se veía fresco de la ducha con el oscuro cabello en puntas y sus ojos avellana viéndolo intensamente, se veía menos como policía y más como un tipo normal.
—¿A dónde crees que vas? —preguntó, con su cabeza inclinada como enfatizando la pregunta. Zach vio la intrigada mirada en los ojos del tipo y entonces vio una profunda compasión que no había visto en mucho tiempo.
—Me voy, señor…oficial. Mire, gracias por su ayuda. Lo siento. —Las palabras de Zach salieron temblorosas, pero se aseguró de que su intención fuera obvia. Él estaba determinado a irse. Ellos no lo iban a querer bajo su techo ahora. Al menos él había conseguido llevar una comida caliente a su estómago y sería un maldito si regresaba la cálida ropa que usaba. Solo tenía que encontrar sus zapatos, y podría irse. Probablemente podría adelantársele al policía, tenía buenas posibilidades dado que el otro hombre estaba descalzo. Zach bajó su mirada y arrastró los pies pasando por su lado, pero fue detenido por una fuerte mano en su brazo.
—¿Mamá? ¿Ã‰l te hizo algo? ¿Estás bien?
Ben ignoró a Zach, que se movió de un pie al otro tratando de liberarse del agarre de Ben, la ansiedad y el pánico se construían en su interior. Él no le había hecho nada a la mamá del policía; él no podría. Débilmente él jalo su brazo, pero el maldito policía lo tenía con un agarre de acero.
—Parece que los padres de Zach lo echaron por ser homosexual — ella le contestó simplemente. Zach se jaló logrando moverse en el cuarto. La expresión de Ben cambió a ira. Mierda, Zach pensó inmediatamente, aquí viene. Y cuando el policía levantó una mano, Zach se encontró preparándose para el inminente golpe.
En lugar de eso, el policía colocó su mano suavemente en el hombro de Zach y pareció ignorar el hecho de que Zach se había hundido de miedo.
—Eso sucede mucho —dijo el policía simplemente, su cara de alguna manera parecía amable cuando dijo eso—, pero en esta casa eso no es un problema. Mamá tiene un hijo hetero, casado y con dos hijos, y una hija con dos novios al mismo tiempo. —Hizo una pausa, dejando que entendiera la primera parte. — Además ella me tiene a mí, a su hijo policía homosexual.
—Oh —fue todo lo que Zach pudo decir, frotándose el brazo en donde Ben lo había agarrado para aliviar el dolor.
—El que seas homosexual no es algo que afecte el que te quedes aquí. ¿Bien?
Zach se giró para ver que la mamá de Ben, seguía sentada ante la mesa, ella estaba asintiendo estando de acuerdo. Se sentía extraño. Era como una amable e irreal reunión con gente excepcionalmente linda que eran amables con un extremadamente solitario joven de la calle. Parpadeó, abriendo más los ojos a todo lo que lo hundía, demasiado bueno para ser verdad, pero de algún modo era muy real.

—Me voy a la cama, Ben. Por qué no te sientas un momento con Zach, y luego le muestras el antiguo cuarto de Jamie, hay ropa de cama limpia en el closet. — Ella se levantó dejó los tazones en el fregadero y abrazó a su hijo. —Ellie llegará a las dos. Ella lo prometió. Así que mantente despierto por mí.