Showing posts with label RJ Scott. Show all posts

The Road To Frosty Hollow


The Book

Nick and Cameron face old demons, and find new love, on a Winter road trip.

Former Marine Nick Sheridan is at a crossroads. With his entire life ahead of him he struggles to find direction and his place in the world. Car sharing to get home for his sister’s Christmas wedding seems like a good idea at first. Spending the time with the man he kissed and left years before, maybe not so much.

Cameron Bennett lost most of his teenage years to cancer and he now lives every day to the fullest. He decides to drive from Seattle to Vermont for his best friend’s wedding and capture moments of it on film. He hadn’t planned on car sharing with the man who kissed him ten years ago, but somehow he ends up with a brooding Nick by his side.

Along the way, the men learn that sometimes life plans mean nothing in the grand scheme of things. Love can be found in the most unexpected of ways, and facing your demons head on is sometimes the only way to live.

  • Cover art by Meredith Russell
  • Edited by Sue Adams
  • ISBN : 978-1-78564-060-5
  • Word Count: 43,584

Buy Links

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

Buy Links - Print Book


Reviews

Dog-Eared Daydreams - 5/5 - "....The Road to Frosty Hollow is a heartwarming love story between two men who have known each other for years, have had feelings they believed were one sided, and are now on a cross-country road trip from Seattle, Washington to a wedding in their hometown of Frosty Hollow, Vermont....

....The Road to Frosty Hollow was a beautifully co-written slow burn romance which not only reiterates why RJ Scott is one of my favorite go-to M/M authors, but that Meredith Russell is as good at being an author as she is a cover designer. This one left me with a satisfied smile on my face and in my heart. Five-plus stars...."

The Way She Reads - "....I thoroughly enjoyed my road-trip with Nick and Cameron and was rooting for them to come together every mile of the way. Sometimes all I want is a relatively angst free, uncomplicated, yet engrossing story, which is exactly what The Road to Frosty Hollow was—utterly delightful...."

Making it Happen - "....Now see, this is a wonderful example of sweet, sexy second chance holiday romance.  It has characters you'll come to care for pretty quickly and want to root on throughout the story, a bit of tension coming from some unknowns in Cameron's life that cause some bumps in the road between him and Nick, and the constant hope throughout the story that everything will work out with a happy ending...."

Sexy Erotic Exciting - 5/5 - "....Scott and Russell delivered a well-developed story of two men on the cusp of much-needed changes and the ability to find a timeless love in each other.

I immediately connected with both characters and their joyous personalities even in times of despair. 

The Road to Frosty Hollow was a feel good, highly romantic story that brought a warmth to the spirit of love and the holidays...."

Archaeolibrarian - 5/5 - "....Full of romance, and even a cameo from The Crooked Tree Ranch (WOOT!), this is a brilliant Christmas story - perfect for warming the cockles of your heart. Well written, with no editing or grammatical errors to disrupt the reading flow, I can certainly recommend this story...."

Wicked Read Review Team - Ruthie - 4/5 - "....This is a really enjoyable read, which will warm the heart of any romantic – and if you read the Montana series, there is a little extra treat in here, which really made me smile!...."

Sarah - 4/5 - "....This is a short, sweet romance of two slightly lost men who find each other as they drive across the country together. I enjoyed this and I felt quite attached to both Nick and Cameron by the end...."

Angie - 4/5 - ".... I wanted to know what happened next and now I will just have to imagine what happened, which is fine, but I could stand to have some more of Nick and Cameron. A good snowy Sunday read...."

The Geekery Book Review - 4/5 - "....There was a great mix of emotion in this story for me! There’s the sweetness, the tenderness these two have together. It’s so clear that they really do love each other despite the misunderstanding from years ago. There were also times when my heart broke for them, especially Cameron as he struggles with the possibility of cancer coming back. There’s a passion and humor and so much love! Nick and Cameron are both such great characters that you just can’t help loving and rooting for on their journey to their HEA! I would definitely recommend this book and know that it is one I’ll read again and again to make my heart smile!..."

Book Lovers 4Ever - "....They had great chemistry, both had feelings for each other since they were young and that was written beautifully into the story. The backstories written in with Cam's best friend, who is Nick's younger sister just made the story even better. I liked the HEA and the one year later at the end!..."

Lovebytes Reviews - 4/5 - "....Despite that small note I really liked this story, the road trip, the writing by the authors and especially both men and I enjoyed a nice couple of hours basking in their warm glow...."

Gay Book Reviews - 3.5/5 - "....This is a hope-filled romance and perfect as a Christmas read. Both the MCs journey to their HEA was heartfelt with a little amount of “positive” angst. More character development would have been welcome but the romance in itself was very satisfactory...."

Excerpt

Chapter 1 

“This is crazy, sis. I can’t believe I let you talk me into this road trip.”

Nick Sheridan sat on the end of the bed and stared at his luggage. He’d been pacing a line back and forth in front of his bedroom window for what felt like hours, but, was really only minutes, and his nerves were getting the better of him. He held his cell phone in front of him, set on speaker phone, waiting for the reassuring sound of his sister’s voice to fill the room.

“It’ll do you good. It’ll do you and Cameron both some good,” Kaitlin said.

Her voice held an edge of excitement. She was setting him up, and he knew it, and he was pretty sure she knew he knew it. Cameron Bennett was the last person Nick wanted to share a cross-country drive with, with his dimples, and his smile and his ability to make Nick forget how to speak.

With a sigh, he scratched a hand though his hair, teasing his bangs to spiky points. “Maybe.” He glanced around his bedroom. He was supposed to have packed everything into boxes ready for the move back home in the New Year, but surfaces were still scattered with mementos of his life and his closet remained full of his clothes.

Kaitlin asked, “What time did Cameron say he was getting there?”

Nick rested his phone on the bed and got to his feet. “Anytime now.” He crossed to the window. Lifting a slat in the blind, he looked out on the street below.

Kaitlin’s voice came from the bed behind him. “You remember what he looks like, right?”

How could he not remember Cameron Bennett? The man’s face was plastered all over his sister’s social media every time Cam happened to be in the same state as her: Cam and Kaitlin horseback riding along a treacherous mountain trail, or jumping out of a plane, or parasailing. The man took risks that made Nick worry, considering Kaitlin sometimes got involved too. Kaitlin and Cameron had been best friends since any of them could remember.

Not only that, but Cameron’s face was all wrapped up in memories of one stolen kiss and years of what ifs.

Not that he was admitting that to his sister. “Shut up,” he said, raising his voice to make sure she could hear him.

Kaitlin laughed. “It’s so easy to wind you up. But seriously, have some fun, live life, get all thinky about what you want to do.”

“Thinky?” Nick mouthed the word to the room and smiled. He had been thinking. In fact, he’d done nothing but thinking ever since he received the official invitation to Kaitlin’s wedding a few months ago.

Sitting on his dresser was the ivory-and-turquoise-decorated card. Nick eyed the names of his sister and soon-to-be brother-in-law, struck by a strange sense of loss. He rubbed at the feeling of emptiness in his stomach. When he had settled in Seattle two-and-a-half years ago, he’d thought that was it. Sure, there might have been a chance he would be called back to active duty, but Seattle had felt like home. He’d had a boyfriend and the promise of a career and finishing up school. It had been a fresh start. True, he and his family lived on opposite sides of the country, but that was okay; he had things to work through, and they didn’t need a screwed-up Marine in their lives.

Now, of course, the boyfriend was no more, the career was at a grinding halt, and he’d failed his last exam. Yeah, life’s great.

“Nick? You still there?”

Nick breathed in deeply and glanced over his shoulder at his phone. “I’m here.”

Now he was in need of another fresh start, and as far as he was concerned, running back to his hometown in Vermont was for the best. He needed the security of having his family around him, at least for a while until he got his head on straight.

Then why haven’t you packed yet?

“I have to go,” Kaitlin interrupted his thoughts. “I’ve got an appointment with the florist. Mom’s coming with me, so wish me luck.”

Their mom had taken to the role of mother of the bride like it was a military campaign. Kaitlin had even taken the drastic measure of phoning Nick one night, stressed, cursing, and insisting their mom should have signed up with him eight years ago. It was kind of nice she reached out to him, as though he was needed. “So, I’ll wish you a safe journey, big brother, and guess I’ll see you in three weeks. Text me, right? Text me a lot. Photos as well.”

Yeah, right. Photos of Cameron and his broad, stupid smile and his hazel eyes, standing next to Nick, the battered former Marine. Those were photos she’d love to share on her Facebook page. No way that was happening.

“Three weeks,” he confirmed.

Then he shook his head, even though no one could see him. That was a long time to be just him and Cameron. He yawned widely. He’d not slept properly last night; when he’d rolled over on his arm, discomfort had kept him awake.

“Like I said, it’ll be good for you. Just—” She paused for a moment. “—just enjoy the ride and see where it takes you.”

Nick chewed his lip. His life had been so regimented throughout his twenties, and though he was all for living in the moment and taking some chances, his default setting was survival and it was difficult to adjust. “I’ll try.”

“See that you do. Anyway, I have to go. Feel free to give Cam a big hug from me.” Her voice held a laugh as she teased him.

Shaking his head, he picked up his phone. “Later, sis.”

“Love you.”

“You too.” He ended the call and pocketed his phone.

Blowing out a breath, he checked around the room. Everything he’d put on his list was packed in his case and large backpack. He had three weeks on the road and an undetermined amount of time with his folks for the wedding, Christmas, and into next year.

His cell phone chimed and he freed it once more from his pocket and eyed the details of the text message. It was from Cameron.

Getting gas. Be with you in ten.

OK, he typed.

He hesitated, wondering if he was supposed to say more. Billy, his ex, added smiley faces to all his texts, even when he was pissed. “I am so out of the loop,” he muttered. With a shrug, he hit Send; he didn’t want to give Cameron a weird message by using the wrong yellow faces.

“Okay,” he said to his room. “This is really happening.”

When Kaitlin had suggested he join Cameron on his road trip from Seattle to Vermont, Nick’s first instinct had been to say no.

He remembered a lot about Cameron; his illness as a kid that kept him in his room a lot, his stupidly cute hair, his thoughtful expressions. And the kiss. He recalled the kiss and Cameron pushing him away in great detail.

But they weren’t friends like Cameron and Kaitlin were. Being two years older than them meant Nick had always been a step ahead in the checkpoints of life—graduating, going away to college, dropping out to embark on a career in the military.

Not anymore. Hell, you’re going backward. It was as though his life had been unraveling over the last five months. His relationship had ended, he wasn’t happy at work, and he had no direction, no damn idea what to do with himself.

At least being a Marine gave you stability and focus.

It had given him other things too. He glanced down at the palm of his hand, then curled his fingers, brushing the faded scars that stretched down to his wrist. The memory of gunfire made his shoulders tense, and just for a moment he was back there, his patrol under attack, and jagged rocks shredding his hand as he scrambled for cover.

The idea to re-enlist had been a brief one, some knee-jerk reaction to change in his life. But he soon changed his mind; he had done his time, served his country. He wasn’t a career soldier. He needed something else. If only he could figure out what that was….

Shaking off the old memories, Nick took the few minutes he had to check over his luggage and the apartment. There was a feeling of unease as he picked up the wedding invitation. In three weeks he would be back in Vermont, back in Frosty Hollow. He hadn’t been home since Christmas two years ago, and that had been a flying visit.

The sound of the intercom buzzer interrupted his thoughts. Too late to change your mind now.

He paused at the receiver, his hand hovering over the speak button. The buzzer rang again and Nick took a breath. “Okay,” he said to himself, then pressed the button and spoke into the intercom. “I’ll be right down.”

After gathering his things, he checked the apartment one last time before heading downstairs. He pushed open the building door with his shoulder and backed outside, turning around to maneuver his belongings through the door with him.

“You need a hand?”

He stopped. The door swung shut behind him. “What?” It took him a moment to link the voice to the man standing at the bottom of the short flight of steps leading up to the apartment building. Tall and wide across the chest, with stubble and sunglasses pushed back in his hair, Cameron Bennett looked like a cross between a biker and a model, and he was every bit as gorgeous in person as Nick remembered. He looked a bit pale, white against the dark of his jacket, but hell, he looked good.

Cameron removed his shades, folded down the arms, and nodded toward Nick’s suitcase. “Your things. Do you need any help with them?”

Lifting his pack higher on his shoulder, Nick shook his head. “I’m good. Thanks.”

When Nick didn’t move, Cameron raised one of his neat eyebrows. “What?” he asked with a smile, shifting his weight onto his other leg and looking up at Nick expectantly. “I got something on my face?” His smile widened. The way Cameron’s lips curled made dimples appear in his face. Yep, there they were, the Dimples of Doom.

“What? No, sorry.” Nick lowered his head. “I just….” He looked Cameron up and down. Cameron Bennett all grown up. “I was trying to remember how long it’s been.” He picked up his suitcase and headed down to the sidewalk, where he met Cameron’s hazel eyes and waited for an answer.

“Nine or ten years, I guess.” Cameron walked behind him. “Senior year, wasn’t it? My senior year, anyway. You’d come home from college for the weekend, and Kaitlin had that Valentine’s party.”

Nick didn’t have to try to remember the party, ever since he’d agreed to this road trip he’d had the damn party on his mind. He didn’t want to talk about it, not after making a fool of himself with Cameron, thinking the other man actually wanted to kiss him. But Cameron was looking at him expectantly; waiting for an answer.

“Alice in Wonderland,” he said, finally. Kaitlin had roped him into decorating the house with strings of hearts and playing cards.

And he and Cameron had kissed. Don’t think about the kiss.

“I’m impressed you even remember. You were pretty drunk.” Cameron grinned. It didn’t look like Cameron recalled the kiss, or the awkwardness that followed it.

“A house full of Mad Hatters is enough to drive anyone to drink.” Nick offered; anything to stop thinking on things that should never have happened. The party had been the night after he’d come out to his parents and told them he was dropping out of college to enlist all in one go. Turned out him being gay wasn’t a problem to his parents. Signing up, however, they hadn’t taken too well. Not at first, anyway.

“So many sexy Cheshire Cats and slutty Alice’s,” Cameron mused.

Nick prodded Cameron in the back. “Hey, my sister was Alice. She wasn’t slutty.” He couldn’t help the defensiveness that stiffened his spine.

“Nicky, I’m kidding.”

Nicky. The name surprised him. He hadn’t been called that in years. Even his sister had dropped the cutesy version of his name.

If Cameron noticed Nick’s faltering steps, he didn’t make it evident. Instead he continued. “Seriously, I’m the last person to judge anyone for what they wear.” Cameron spun around, walking backward a few steps as he tugged at the front of the V-necked T-shirt he wore under a leather jacket. The action exposed more of his chest.

Nick noted the faint dusting of hair across the pale skin of Cameron’s chest and what looked like the edge of a tattoo.

“My name is Nick, not Nicky.”

Cameron nodded his understanding, and with a smile, he slid his shades back on and stepped out into the street.

They stopped by a functional black SUV with snow tires and Nick blinked to make sure he wasn’t seeing things. “Thought you were a muscle car fan? This isn’t quite what I imagined for your grand cross-country adventure.”

Cameron pulled open the driver side door and rested his arms on top of the frame. He shrugged as he looked over the roof of the black SUV, meeting Nick’s eyes. “Well, I had considered renting a Mustang, maybe. But then I remembered it’s December and we have snow.”

“Good call.”

“Anyway, I know you like working with cars, but I didn’t want you having a busman’s holiday every time we broke down.”

“Thoughtful of you.” Nick was aiming for jokey, but he sounded more sarcastic than joking.

Cameron looked confused at the tone and he worried at his lip for a moment. “You can still change your mind, you know. I won’t be offended.”

“About what?”

“The road trip, three weeks with me. I know Kaitlin can be very persuasive when she wants to be.”

Shaking his head, Nick said, “She can be, but I want to do this.” He might have been quick to blame Kaitlin for the road trip, but he was really doing it for himself. “I promise you this is my decision.”

Cameron seemed to consider Nick’s words as he tapped the fingers of one hand on the back of the other. “Okay.” He pulled the door open a little farther. “Put your things in the back and we’ll get out of here.”

After loading his bags in the trunk, Nick slipped into the car and strapped himself in beside Cameron. “So, what’s the plan?”

“Spokane.”

“Sorry?” He raised an eyebrow.

“That’s where we’re headed, or at least we are, according to Kaitlin. It’s just over five hours from here.” Cameron reached behind the passenger seat and pulled out a map. “Figured we could drive a couple of hours, stop for something to eat at the halfway point, and then do the rest.”

“What the hell’s in Spokane?” Nick asked. “Kaitlin picked the place?”

Cameron looked sheepish. “She may have planned the whole trip. Well, I mean, I helped and all, but she was the one who came up with the itinerary.”

“Right. Okay.” Nick scratched behind his ear.

“Here.” Cameron opened the glove compartment and pulled out a notebook. Loose, folded sheets of paper stuck out from between the pages. “I printed off what we decided on.”

Nick folded back the corner of the little book, allowing the paper to flick across his thumb as he slowly released the pages. He rested it on top of the map across his thighs. “I know you asked me about wanting to do this, but are you okay with me being here?”

It seemed Kaitlin had a much bigger role in the trip than Nick first thought, but he wasn’t entirely sure about Cameron’s reasons for taking the cross-country trip. Apparently, it was some mix of a personal work project and self-evaluation of his life.

Cameron curled his hands around the steering wheel. “Trust me. You’d know if I didn’t want you here.” He briefly turned to look at Nick. “And you never know—we might actually have some fun.”

With a nod, Nick agreed, “Yeah, we might.”

“So,” Cameron said. “Ready?”

As I’ll ever be. “Sure. Let’s do it.”

After all, how bad could three weeks on the road with Cameron be?




Twelve Days of Christmas: Day 7 RJ Scott



I love Christmas. For me my excitement for Christmas starts as soon as Autumn happens. The minute you get that smoky bonfire scent in the air, the leaves turn to gold and red, and the evenings draw in, I am in seventh heaven!

There is that whole low level of excitement that buzzes through me, and I try to capture that in my Christmas stories. Probably the best capturing on how I feel is in The Christmas Throwaway and in New York Christmas. Both heavily feature snow.

We don't really get that much snow in the UK :( If your image of the UK is like The Holiday with the cottage in the snow then you'd be disappointed. The last time we had really good snow down near London was 2010 (and yes, you can't be a Brit unless you can remember these weather type things!). Scotland and northern England will get better snow, as does North Wales. Down south we may get a couple of days, but it never stays. There is nothing like taking that first step on fresh snow, and the look of the landscape and houses with everything softened by white.

Which is probably why my new Montana book, whilst not a Christmas book, definitely has one hell of a lot of snow.

Then I had to add in another of my favourite things - cheesy, schmaltzy, sentimental Christmas made-for-TV movies. Some are appalling - trying very hard to be perfect by including all the right elements but not quite making it right. But, every so often you find a TV movie that just ticks all the boxes. I noticed that there were several actors that seemed to appear in a lot of Christmas movies, and so, Jordan Darby's character was born. He 'is' the King Of Christmas.

I hope you are having a good season so far, and if you celebrate then, Happy Christmas.

HUGS XXX

For your chance to win a copy of Crooked Tree Ranch (Montana #1) leave a comment with your snow story.

Cover by Meredith Russell 
The Book

An actor in the closet, a sheriff in love, and memories that won’t stay hidden.

Jordan Darby is known as the King of Christmas. The star of eight made-for-TV Christmas movies, the leading man who always gets his girl. Filming at Crooked Tree Ranch in Montana, in the ice and snow, Jordan is fighting to make a go of his new company and dealing with fears of exposure over one huge secret. After all, who the hell would buy into him being a romantic straight lead if rumors about him being gay were proven to be true?

Sheriff Ryan Carter is advising on the new movie being made at Crooked Tree. He hoped this would be one day of work and nothing more. Until, that is, he meets the hero. But while Jordan is sexy, he’s also very much stuck in the closet—everything that Ryan doesn’t need in his life. And then lust becomes part of the equation, and Ryan’s quiet life is thrown into turmoil.

Their story unfolds against the chaos that overtakes the ranch, with Adam regaining memories that terrify him and make him look at Justin differently, and Justin leaving the ranch to make things right. Only through trusting in love and friendship can Justin and Adam learn to look to the future instead of letting the past destroy everything. But will they ever see clearly enough to do that?

Buy Links: Amazon US | Amazon UK 

Montana Series
Book 1 - Crooked Tree Ranch
Book 2 - The Rancher's Son
Book 3 - A Cowboy's Home


A typical writing day for RJ



09:00

Daily checking of Fantasy hockey, horrified to see I am 13th out of 14 on one of my leagues... LOL... shakes head at Pens, It's okay, I'm third in the other league (not sure how I managed that, this is all new to me).

Opens Facebook, checks messages, tries to avoid all references to last nights Walking Dead which I don't really want to watch at all because the last series was MEH...

Looks at time and realises I just lost about 30 minutes on Facebook... slaps self in face... doesn't close Facebook *just in case*

Checks Email, sets up MORE new rules in outlook to deal with sudden influx of women wanting to suck my dick (which would be difficult clearly).

Phones Vet to book Jack in for his jabs - Thursday 2pm followed by walk in woods.

Cracks knuckles

Assesses workload today
  1. Finishing my chapter on The Road To Frosty Hollow with Meredith to send back to her today
  2. Montana 4 Chapter 1 (target 3,000 words)

Answers 3 question from my german translator, Chris McHart, on context in The Christmas Throwaway - this is in editing mode and will be released end Noveember we think.

9:49

Opens Google chat to see if writing buddies are around

Opens The Road To Frosty Hollow - I have about 600 words to add to this chapter and then I can send it back to Meredith. Gets waylaid by family stuff... Talks to Meredith, and finds TWD for her

Back to writing...

Sends the finished chapter to Meredith... 1360 words added to finish the chapter

and now, onto Montana 4 (Snow in Montana)

*Although, Matt is on half term this week, and he's playing 99 Red Balloons over and over... and over... and over... LOL...

And over...

12:05

Where did the morning go?

Opens up Montana 4
Stares at Montana 4

Identifies what is worrying me that means I can't concentrate.

I need a tagline for The Code...

Works on the tagline for The Code, which is being released in two days and which has a shitty tagline at the moment.

Enroles the help of Annabelle Jacobs and Rachel Maybury for said tagline

Gets interupted by finding out what happened in the Walking Dead after having decided I can't be arsed to carry on with it after last season.

Goes back to tagline which is frankly taking longer than writing the book.

He risks destroying friendship and his team to find love with his best friends sister.

Oh, in all of this I now have a tagline for book 2 - The greatest shot he'll ever take is for love. (Brain, you are NOT helping here).

Hmmm...

He's willing to break the codes of hockey for the love of his best friends sister

Tells Rachel that I am writing a diary of today to post on my blog. Her response... "OOOOHhh a day in the life of RJ Scott...that's a good one!!" My response... "we'll see... LOL"

Looks at time, has quick lunch (bread LOL). Literally 2 minutes. No time to stop.

Matt comes in to tell me all about his gardening tomorrow. Looks pointedly at the fact I am eating some of his bread. But it's okay, because he loves me (apparently).

99 Red Balloons... again...

cuppa needed... :)

13:20

Back to tagline issue.

Does he want to break the unwritten code of friendship for the love of his best friend's sister?

Nope, still crap.

One kiss has the potential to change even the longest of friendships forever

Nope... Gets Meredith involved as well...

Loving his best friend's sister goes against every code he knows, but one kiss is all it takes.

Yep, we have a winner... thanks to Annabelle... which means when she asks me to have one last look at her blurb I am happy to do so... and M4 isn't calling to me just yet.

*Prevarication* + *worrying about the release of The Code* = messing with my head for writing M4. Sighs.

13:36

Decides that writing blurbs and taglines is the work of the devil. Why is it so much easier to write an entire novel than to summarise it in a bitesize way?

13:55

Joins writing room with hockey romance author, dies at the fact I will be sprinting with authors that I fangirl. Tries to get over it and put words down.

Starts Montana 4

BUT Matthew has a sore throat - I assisted in getting him to take a paracetamol and to drink water. Poor baby.

13:55 - 14:25 582 words

cuppa needed... :)

Hubby came in wanting help with putting on his sugar monitor thingy. I'm getting very fast at that now. LOL.

14:30 - 15:00 563 words

And I need to ask a question about Amazon categories for MF writing, because GAH, I've not done that before. Goes to hockey group to ask. Apparently Fiction > Sport, and Fiction > Romance > Contemporary is where I should be at. Thanks guys.

15:10 - 15:40 485 words

cuppa needed... :)

15:50 - 16:20 724 words

OH! Sidney Crosby (Pittsburgh Penguins Captain) is at practise in a black jersey... don't come back too soon Sid (Come back soon, Sid)

16:30 - 17:00 624 words

And now, I'm done for the day... well, apart from checking emails and Facebook this evening. The writing has been a bit slower today because M4 is a new book and I am establishing ground work here, I hope this gets faster soon!

So that is a typical writing day for me. Of course, it isn't typical to have 99 Red Balloons playing all day, but Matt is off school and the song choice is balanced by the hugs I get, and the conversations I have based around ceiling fans.

Total wordcount today - 4338
Cuppas consumed - too many to count
Prevarication index - medium (LOL)




Heat Blitz Blog Tour and 99c SALE




Chris Quinton and I have a new book in the Salisbury Series coming out on 1st July, and to celebrate, we're having a blitz tour for the first book in the series, Heat.

The Book

Serving up passion, family, love and hate, with a side order of arson.

Lewis has lost nearly everything, and now it seems that Devon is here to take the last thing he has left - working in his beloved restaurant, Laurels. But when an arsonist threatens everything Lewis loves, he realizes sometimes everyone has their ghosts, and he discovers an unexpected ally who is prepared to risk everything for him.


* * * * *

Set in the small cathedral city of Salisbury, Master Chef Lewis Mandineau no longer owns the Laurels, the restaurant that had been in his family for generations. Betrayed and robbed by an ex-lover, he's had to sell to Carnegie Enterprises, an American corporation. That isn't all Lewis has to contend with. Rachel, his beloved younger sister has been left severely hurt by the car crash that killed their parents, and taking care of her has to be his priority.

Enter Devon Trelawney III, sent to assess the viability of the restaurant and its staff. Devon knows all about family tradition. But he also knows sentiment has no place in business matters, and the Laurels' potential is swamped by the debts it has accrued. Devon is a hardheaded businessman, first and foremost, but Lewis and Rachel test his resolve in different ways. Soon Devon is forced to admit that what seems like an impossible love can sometimes become something very real.



Buy Links

Amazon (US)  |  Amazon (UK)  |  Smashwords  |  B&N  |  iTunes


Thank you to everyone taking part in the tour for Heat.


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Focus on... Follow the Sun (Sapphire Cay #1)

Cover Art by BitterGrace
It's cold, wet and windy, so I think we need sunshine from Sapphire Cay. Let's start at the beginning.

The Book

Lucas Madison is in the Bahamas for his sister's wedding on the beautiful and idyllic island of Sapphire Cay.

He has the weight of the world on his shoulders. With the stress of his job, the loss of his friend, and faced with his own medical crisis, Lucas arrives on the white sands of Sapphire Cay gray and exhausted. His only thought is to see his sister married and happy.

Dylan Gray is a free-spirited traveler who literally follows the sun. Never settling in one place for long, he earns his way from state to state and continent to continent. But there's something about Sapphire Cay that draws him back over and over. A feeling of home.

When these two men meet, both have decisions to make and directions to choose. And maybe together, they can make the right ones and follow not only the sun, but also their hearts.

This is the story of Lucas and Dylan, set against the stunning landscape of Sapphire Cay.












The Sapphire Cay series
Written with Meredith Russell


Book 1 - Follow The Sun
Book 2 - Under The Sun
Book 3 - Chase The Sun
Book 4 - Christmas In The Sun
Book 5 - Capture The Sun
Book 6 - Forever In The Sun (WIP)

Buy Links - eBook

Love Lane Books  |  Amazon (US)  |  Amazon (UK)  |  ARE  |  B & N  |  Kobo  |  Sony  |  Smashwords  |  iTunes

Buy Links - Print Book

Amazon (US) | Amazon (UK)

Reviews

Hearts on Fire Reviews - 4/5 - "....I recommend this story to anyone looking for a slow burn romance.  Ms Scott and Ms Russell have proven that they can write a good romance as a team.  I’m looking forward to book two in this easy going series...."

Click on cover to enlarge
Paranormal Romance Guild - 4/5 - "....This one was a sweet angst free story. If you want a straight shooting, no drama or miscommunications, then this love story is for you. The authors really made the story satisfying. I could easily imagine myself on that Bahamian island, too. The writing was fluid, enjoyable, and engrossing. It was refreshing to see grown men just walk a simple path to love and make the right decisions at the right time. I am not a live by the seat of your pants kind of person, but I admire those who can do it. Lucas and Dylan really make a great couple because they are opposites, so they can keep the other from being too extreme. I cannot tell who the next book will be about, but I can’t wait to read the sequel. .."



Guilty Pleasures Book Review - 4/5 - "....I found this book to be a wonderful love story with some steamy M/M action thrown in for good measure. While they end with a HEA, I admire that these men make decisions that were good for them, not because of their relationship. Follow The Sun is the first book in this series and I can’t wait to see what the authors will come up with next. If this book is any indication, we are in for a real treat!.."

Excerpt - Chapters 1 & 2

Chapter 1

“We want you in place by the fourth of next month and no later.” Oscar Morgan was not beating around the bush. His words were brusque, final, and brooked no argument.

Lucas Madison swallowed the sudden feelings of claustrophobia and panic—quickly calculating how much time that gave him. Two weeks on the island, and then he would need to return straight to the office. He closed his eyes against the bright sun and shifted in the waiting room seat until his five-ten frame was finally in a comfortable position. That wasn’t enough time to get his head straight.

“That’s a bit tight,” he said. Choosing his words carefully was his stock in trade these days. React too aggressively and Oscar would see he wasn’t as committed as he used to be. Lucas had to toe the company line and stay focused despite the fact his head was at direct odds with his heart, which was telling him to just walk away.


Review for Fitzwarren Inheritance

Cover Art by Meredith Russell
The Fitzwarren Inheritance has a review from Scattered Thoughts and Rogue Words. Read it here.

Book 1 - The Psychic's Tale by Chris Quinton


Four hundred years ago in rural England, a mob burned two men to death, but not before one of them, Jonathan Curtess, hurled a dreadful curse at the mob's leader, Sir Belvedere Fitzwarren. The curse has followed the family through the centuries, bringing grief and loss to each generation.

Mark Renfrew is a closeted psychic and openly gay. When his grandmother discovers a family link to a 17th century feud and a still-potent curse, she insists he investigates and do his best to end it. When he travels to the village of Steeple Westford, he meets and falls for Jack Faulkner, an archaeologist. He also meets the Fitzwarrens, who are facing yet another tragedy.

Then Mark learns that the man who cursed them had twisted the knife by leaving three cryptic
conditions that would lift the curse, and he knows he has to try to break the curse his ancestor had set.


Book 2 - The Soldier's Tale by RJ Scott


Corporal Daniel Francis has returned to his childhood home in England to heal; the only one of his unit that survived a roadside bomb. His reasons for skipping medication are based on a stubborn refusal to become an addict, and he is overwhelmed with survivor's guilt.

Doctor Sean Lester has joined his father's surgery and when he is held at knife point by a patient high on drugs it is Daniel that leaps to his rescue-much to his horror.

When Sean nearly runs Daniel down in the dark he finds a man who needs help, and resolves to be the person to show Daniel that it is possible to live through guilt and find happiness.

Set against the backdrop of the Fitzwarren family curse, The Soldiers Tale is a story of one man's fight to find his place in a new world outside of the Army.

Will Daniel and Sean fill the second of three cryptic conditions that can lift the curse?

Book 3 - The Lord's Tale by Sue Brown


Phil Fitzwarren is surrounded by death and tragedy as a result of the curse imposed on his family by Jonathan Curtess. The estate is riddled with debt, his parents and brother killed and his young nephew and much-wanted heir to what is left of the Fitzwarren estate fights for his life after being born prematurely.

Phil also has to admit that as his friends and family pair off and marry, he is lonely, and maybe a little jealous. He takes his anger and frustration out on the climbing wall, only to be picked up by a gorgeous guy when he freezes twenty feet up.

Lee Curtis is a force of nature, inserting himself into Phil’s life before Phil has time to breathe. But there is the third part of the curse to break, “when the one who seeks in danger is sworn to the landless lord”. Phil realises that Lee is the final piece of the puzzle and the curse which has plagued his family for centuries may finally be broken.


Please note, the three books included in this title have been available to purchase separately since 2011.  

Buy Links


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


The Case of the Purple Pearl - blog tour


I'm visiting blogs with my co-conspirator, Amber Kell, over the next few days... click here to follow the stops as they go live...


Purple Pearl Blog Tour - Love Lane Books


The Case of the Dragon's Dilemma

COMING 5th November! The third in my End Street Detective Agency books with Amber Kell.


Buylinks here when available for End Street Volume 2.

Dragons, battles, a deal Sam may come to regret, and a Siren attack, leave Sam and Bob in danger, and Mikhail finding a mate. 

Bob and Sam take their kind-of-adopted-now vampire daughter, Mal to look round new schools.

Mikhail is left to babysit the last remaining rescued child whilst they are away. When Sirens appear to steal her away he is left facing the attack alone until a mysterious hero comes to his aid.

Ryujin, or Jin to his friends, is a dragon shifter and his role as Captain of the Dragon Guard puts him in direct conflict with Mikhail.

The minute he sees Mikhail he knows what he wants. Now if he can only get Mikhail to see the same.

Haven't read them yet? Start with the first two books in End Street Volume 1.


The Case of the Wicked Wolf

The Case of The Wicked Wolf by Amber Kell and RJ Scott

Now released in one volume with The Case of the Cupid Curse.


Naiads, humans, sirens and a challenge for Alpha make up the intricate story in the race to rescue the missing children.

Sam and Bob have more than just the case of one lost child to handle. Not only is Shelby Hartman missing, but other paranormal children have disappeared. The race to rescue the children is hampered by naiads, humans, sirens and a challenge for Alpha.

Hartman Hunter is desperate to find his daughter. He turns to the demon Danjal Naamah for help. The problem is that Danjal is the only person Hartman has ever loved—the man he let go for the sake of the pack…








Excerpt

Sam Enderson sat back in his desk chair and looked at his notes with annoyance. The strip of ribbon Hunter had sent him sat in the corner. As long as he didn’t touch it he couldn’t hear the girl crying. Despite what Bob said he knew it was the missing werewolf girl. Who else would be crying out in pain? Unless the abductor who sent the ribbon knew Hunter’s daughter Shelby had vanished and was taking advantage of that fact. The only thing that made Sam question his judgement was Bob’s statement that he didn’t sense any shifter scent on the ribbon.

"It’s a puzzle."

"Yes it is," Sam replied to Smudge, the black cat familiar, curled on the pillow beside his chair.

Smudge flicked his long tail as he groomed his black fur in long, languid strokes. When he spread his legs to lick his privates Sam turned away. "Can’t you do that elsewhere?"

"You’re just jealous because I’m bendy." Smudge taunted.

Searching for a distraction he turned his attention back to his sparse notes. Nothing made sense. Where had Shelby gone? Bob had talked to his contacts and the witch was still complaining to everyone she could find that Sam hadn’t lived up to his uncle’s promise. Since word had also travelled that she’d cursed Sam and he’d recovered the missing fae, his name was beginning to become rather well known among people he’d rather avoid.

Sam wished he could interrogate the werewolves and especially, Constance, Shelby’s ex-wife. From the little Hartman told Sam about her she seemed a prime suspect. Hartman kept insisting none of the shifters would do that to a little girl but Sam had his doubts. Shelby’s mother had two sons from a previous marriage both old enough to challenge for Alpha. Even Hartman admitted she was power hungry. What better way to bring down the Alpha than to crush his spirit? Even if Hartman denied his pack had anything to do with Shelby’s disappearance Sam noticed the Alpha didn’t ask for his pack’s help in locating his lost girl.

He sighed as he looked at the miniscule amount of information he had to work with. If the case hadn’t involved a little girl Sam would’ve passed on it, however, he couldn’t refuse to help out an obviously broken-hearted person even if he was a werewolf.

Unfortunately this new job didn’t do anything to help foster a good reputation among the human population. So far paranormals were the only ones interested in Sam’s services.

A knock on the door drew Sam’s attention away from his futile endeavour.

"Yes?" Sam called out.

A large hulking man with hair popping out of every visible crevice stomped into Sam’s office. He wore a surprisingly stylish suit but Sam figured if you were that large everything was probably custom made.

"Are you Sam Enderson?" he asked in a voice so deep Sam thought he felt the floor vibrate beneath his chair.

"Yes." Sam stood up to greet his guest. The man-creature-being whatever the hell it was towered over him even when standing. Sam’s confidence raised a few notches when he realised he could probably flee the building before the visitor reached him. "Can I help you with something?"

Smudge hissed from his perch.

"Troll."

Sam had never met a troll before. Fascinated, he watched his visitor with open curiosity. He hadn’t known trolls ever left their bridges. Of course what he knew about trolls could be stuffed in a brownie’s pocket.

"I need something removed." The troll spoke in slow drawn out syllables as if each word had to be dredged from his soul.



The Case of the Cupid Curse

The Case of The Cupid Curse by Amber Kell and RJ Scott

Now released in one volume with The Case of the Wicked Wolf.






Sam Enderson is a human detective who inherits a building from where his Uncle used to run a detective agency. He finds himself working for paranormal creatures despite his resolve to stick with humans only. To supplement his income as a new PI Sam rents out rooms in the large house.

Bob is a vampire and turns up on Sam's doorstep to rent a room. Sparks fly and Sam is attracted to the vampire despite himself.

Sam is cursed by a witch, and has two cases landing on his desk. Werewolves, annoying ghosts and a grumpy gargoyle are enough to drive Sam mad. But somehow in amongst all of this he has to find a missing fae and a missing shifter child.







Excerpt 


Chapter One 


Sam Enderson stood outside his building and smiled with pride. The fresh sign painted on the door in crisp black letters read ‘End Street Detective Agency’. Examining the overall effect, he nodded in satisfaction. This move to becoming a private investigator was as far from being a timid bookseller as he could get. No one would walk all over someone who investigated crimes for a living. 


Three months of correspondence school and a shiny new multi-weapon license had given his confidence a much-needed boost. After the hellish past year in which he’d found his boyfriend in bed with his now ex-best friend, followed by the death of his favorite uncle, Sam was ready for a new start in life. 


Uncle Hanson. Just thinking about him made Sam feel sad. He had fond memories of visiting his uncle at work. The man had always liked Sam. He evidently had carried that affection into Sam’s adult life. After all, he had left Sam an entire building in his will, the building Sam now stood in front of. An office with accommodations over the top, worth quite a bit of money despite its proximity to an undesirable area. 


“You should sell,” his friend Oscar had said. Oscar had no love for Uncle Hanson. In a sniffy tone, he often consigned Hanson to the idiot pile and called him ‘odd’. 


“I don’t want to sell,” Sam had protested. 


“What are you going to do with it?” Oscar had asked. 


“Open up my own agency.” 


Oscar still wasn’t speaking to him, even now, three months later. 


Sam sighed at the memory and mentally pushed it all to one side to admire his property. The lower half consisted of a business office and reception area, with the upper two floors divided into four apartments. Three were empty, but his uncle had filled the fourth one with notes from his own investigative practice. That room was high on Sam’s list of things to sort out, but he first needed to concentrate on renting out one of the empty apartments. 


Sam might have inherited the house, but it hadn’t exactly come with a burgeoning bank account to match. Forty years of being a detective and all Uncle Hanson had to show for it was this building, a small bank account, and a room full of papers. Sam was determined he was going to be different. He had a five-year plan in place. Sam didn’t doubt for one minute that he knew exactly why his uncle had little money to speak of. Uncle Hanson had done too much pro bono work for them. 


Filing cabinets and boxes overflowed with notes from years of being a private detective. A lot of those papers included cases involving aspects of the paranormal, things Sam thought better left alone. Sam didn’t have a drop of supernatural blood in his entire body, and he didn’t plan on associating with those who did. It hadn’t exactly worked out well for his uncle. 


Paranormals had their place. Hell, they owned half the city. Vampires and werewolves, witches, fae, and pixies—they all had their own parishes. Neighborhoods where they lived amongst their own kind. Like enjoyed living with like, and although they often mixed and matched, no one in Sam’s family had ever crossed the romantic boundary between the magical and the not. 


Sam didn’t count his second cousin Christa, who had taken up with a blood demon. There was a bad seed in every batch. 


Worried he’d use up the rest of his small inheritance, Sam had put an ad in the local paper to rent out two of the four apartments. They were empty but spacious rooms that had no one currently occupying them. After a quick mop and dust, they were ready for renters. Why his uncle had a space with no one living there didn’t make much sense. Of course, if his cousin Erik hadn’t been estranged from his father, Sam wouldn’t have inherited anything. A twinge of guilt went through Sam, but he hadn’t heard from his cousin in years and had no way of getting hold of him. 


“Excuse me!” 


A soft voice had Sam spinning around to see an old lady looking up at him. Her wrinkled skin and the way she leaned against her cane betrayed her great age. 


“Can I help you?” 


She squinted at him as if trying to make him out through her foggy white eyes. “You owe me a favor.” 


“What?” Sam examined the lady carefully, but he hadn’t ever met her before in his life. What possible kind of favor could he owe her? 


“The man here before. He promised he’d help me out,” she explained. 


“I’m sorry—” 


The old lady didn’t give Sam a chance to explain. She jabbed her finger into the air at Sam, pursed her lips, then began shouting. “He owes me. He owes me!” she repeated twice, her voice rising to a screeching pitch. 


Ahh, now it becomes clear. “You must be talking about my uncle. Why don’t you come inside and we can discuss what I can do for you.” Although he didn’t feel the need to keep a dead man’s promise, if he could help the woman out, he would. 


After opening the front door, he motioned for her to go ahead of him. 


She settled into his visitor chair while Sam scooted past her to sit on the leather chair opposite, patting his uncle’s gargoyle statue as he walked past. Uncle Hanson had the strangest collection of art he’d ever seen. Eventually, he’d get rid of it all, but right then the weird pieces reminded him of his beloved relative and better times. 


“My name is Sam Enderson. How can I help you?” 


Scowling over at him, she shook her head. “The guy here before never told you not to share your name, did he?” 


“The man here before was my uncle. No, he didn’t tell me not to share my name.” 


She shook her head as if not understanding Sam’s stupidity. “You never share your name with a witch unless you want her to do a spell.” 


Sam jerked in his seat, appalled at what he’d let through his front door. “You’re a witch?” 


The woman slammed her cane onto the wooden floor. “Of course I’m a witch. I’ve got the wrinkled skin, the hunch, the cane, and the rheumy eyes. What did you think I was?” 


He shrugged. “I-I thought you were just an old woman.” An old scary woman who gave him the creeps, but an old woman nonetheless. 


“Old!” the witch shrieked. “How dare you call me old? I’m only a hundred and sixty!” 


“Forgive me.” Sam raised his hands in alarm. “I didn’t mean any offense.” Secretly he wondered how old a witch had to be before she fell into the ‘old’ category. 


“Well, I am offended,” she snapped. 


“Sorry. I don’t know much about your world.” Witch or not, he couldn’t help the little slip of derision into his tone. 


The witch regarded him carefully. “What are you?” 


“What do you mean?” 


“What blood flows in your body?” she asked, as if expecting him to come up with some sort of interesting paranormal cocktail. 


“Human. Just human,” Sam answered. 


“You don’t like paranormals, do you?” 


“No.” Sam saw no reason to deny the fact. 


“So what are you doing here?” she asked suspiciously. 


“I’ve inherited this building.” 


“And you intend to do what?” 


“Carry on business as usual. Private investigations. It’s what I’m qualified for.” And he had the multi-weapon license to back him up. 


“Then you’ll have to do paranormal cases.” She gave him a taunting smile. 


Sam’s stomach churned. “Why?” He didn’t plan to ever take a paranormal case. 


“Because the law states no business can discriminate against a paranormal due to his or her status,” she explained. “It’ll get you shut down, it will.” There was definite glee in the old woman’s expression. 


All Sam wanted to do at that moment was place his head in his hands and curse. He didn’t. He was much too professional for that. Instead, he shrugged. His mom always said if you had nothing good to say, then don’t say anything. 


The witch cackled in true witch fashion, and Sam shuddered inwardly. The scent of something dead and decaying pervaded the room. Add in the crooked teeth and the rags for clothes and he couldn’t understand why he hadn’t immediately pegged her as something different. 


“Now about that favor…” she continued. 


“What?” He couldn’t look her in the eyes. Maybe if he didn’t look, whatever she said wouldn’t be real. He was comfortable with his denial. In fact, he might just lock the door, pull down the shades, and wallow in it for a few days. 


“I need help tracking down a werewolf.” 


Sam looked at her. “Why?” Paranormal hunting paranormal? That couldn’t end well. 


The witch scowled at him while tapping her cane on the floor. “What do you mean, why?” 


Had he stuttered? “I mean, why do you need a werewolf?” 


“It’s none of your business why I need a werewolf, boy. I just do,” the witch snapped. 


“It is, if you want me to do your dirty work.” Sam knew all kinds of uses witches had for werewolves and none of them was nice. “Not to mention hunting werewolves is illegal.” 


“Pfft.” She waved away the law as if it were nothing. Probably was since she didn’t plan on breaking it but had asked Sam to do it instead. “I’ve got a rare potion to make, and I need some werewolf bones.” 


“No.” Sam might not like paranormals very much, but he wasn’t going to hunt one down, either. 


“Your uncle owes me!” she screeched. 


Sam wanted to cover his ears at the high-pitched noise. “My uncle is dead,” he began to explain as patiently as he could. “I was willing to hear you out, but I’m not going to go kill an innocent werewolf so you can make a potion.” Were werewolves actually innocent? Hadn’t there been that whole rampaging werewolf-pack mess last year? Sam seemed to remember people—human, non-magical, regular people—getting killed in that little incident. Still, whatever issues he had with werewolves, he didn’t do that kind of work. He had enough problems without getting jailed for killing werewolves, innocent or not. 


“This potion can save a loved one!” the witch announced dramatically. “I need those bones.” 


“Find a different potion. I’m sure any given werewolf is someone’s beloved too.” 


The witch scowled at him, then abruptly leaned back in her seat and smiled. The smile exposed a mouthful of yellowed teeth, and Sam winced inwardly at her lack of dental care. “Do you have anyone you love, Mr. Enderson?” 


Sam’s mind shifted back to the image of his boyfriend of ten years screwing his best friend. “Not anymore.” Despite his ex pleading for forgiveness, some things Sam wouldn’t forgive. He’d moved out and away from his lover within days and blocked both work and mobile numbers from his phone. His uncle had been his last close relative that had stayed in his life. So really, with his uncle dead, at this point in time, he had no one he could call a loved one. But he’d give her his own bones before he admitted the extent of his loneliness. 


The witch stood with a purposeful air. “When you’re on the verge of losing someone you love, come find me and maybe I’ll free you. Until then, enjoy my present.” 


With a poof of smoke, the witch vanished. 


Gasping, Sam tried to wave away the stench that accompanied the smoke, acrid and with a hint of burnt almonds. Finally, when that didn’t work, he rushed over and opened a window to let the ashy smell out. Great start to his first day as a PI. 


“You’re an idiot.” 


“Ahh!” Sam jumped back from the window to face the empty room. What the hell? Was she still there? Was the witch invisible? 


“An idiot,” the voice repeated. This time Sam confirmed the source, emphasized when the statue on his desk turned its head and regarded him with eerie yellow eyes. 


“What the hell are you?” he managed to ask coherently. 


The statue’s stone wings moved, creating a sound like gravel underfoot. “I’m a gargoyle. What are you?” 


“I-I’m a human.” Sam swallowed rapidly, trying to get some moisture into his dry throat. “What are you doing here?” 


The statue stretched out of its crouch until it stood about a foot tall on the corner of the desk. Its baleful glare pinned Sam to the spot. “You’re an idiot. That witch has something planned for you, and it isn’t good.” 


“H-how do you know?” Sam’s heart beat faster than a rabbit chased by a werewolf. 


The gargoyle rolled his eyes. “You’re not too bright, are you? Your uncle trafficked with that witch.” 


Sam frowned. His uncle had been a kindly old PI, who hadn’t seemed to actually do much from day to day. There was no way he had trafficked anything. He had been the type of man who always had a ready supply of candy for eager young visitors like Sam. 


“The sweet old man who brought you candy didn’t exist,” the gargoyle answered his thoughts. Wait? How the hell…? 


“How did you know what I was thinking?” 


The gargoyle ignored the question, “He would’ve had that werewolf for the witch by the end of the day and walked away with enough cash to eat for months.” He didn’t sound like he approved, and there was sadness in his tone. 


“N-no, that can’t be true.” Sam shook his head in denial. Surely the gargoyle had his facts wrong? 


“Have you actually looked at the paperwork upstairs yet? I heard you banging about. I assume you actually read some of them?” 


“I was moving furniture for my future tenants.” Sam shook his head. “And no, not yet. I thought they were just old case files that needed organizing.” 


Defending himself to a freaking gargoyle made Sam feel like an idiot. The damn thing had been sitting there every time Sam had visited, and never once had it appeared to be anything more than an ornament. The creature must be wrong. Sam would have seen it if Uncle Hanson had been a bad guy. He wasn’t stupid. How could he not have understood his uncle’s true nature? Nope, this ‘gargoyle thing’ had to be wrong. 


The gargoyle clomped across the desk. “Look at the files and check out the back closet in the file room. Your uncle had more going on than anyone knew about. That includes exposing himself to a lot more than just a witch with teeth problems and a ready hand with curses.” 


With those parting words, the gargoyle sank back into his original position. A loud, crackling noise filled the room, and the creature became a statue once more. Sam poked at it with his index finger, but it didn’t move again. 


“Huh.” 


Maybe he was in the middle of a dream, one where he was going to wake up in his sun-lit apartment in Johnstown with his boyfriend in bed with him. 


File room. 


The gargoyle’s words sank in. Maybe he did need to check out the apartment with all the files a little more carefully. It wouldn’t hurt to see what other pies his uncle had his fingers in. As he stepped out of the office, a knock on the front door had him turning away from the stairs and back towards the front door. Why would someone be knocking? The door was unlocked. At least, he didn’t think he’d locked the door. But then, it was an old place. Maybe the latch had closed behind him when he’d escorted the witch inside. 


His mind still on the files upstairs, he opened the door and stopped, frozen. 


Vampire. 


The man could be nothing else. Tall, elegant, and having an unearthly beauty, the vampire gave him a smile that exposed his fangs. “I hear you have an apartment to rent.” The vampire’s voice was like scotch over ice and dripped with sensuality. 


A vampire here? In the daylight? Sam glanced past the vamp. Yep, the sun shone brightly in the sky. 


“Ah, you’re not used to us.” The vampire flashed another smile. “We don’t actually burn up in the sun.” 


That’s a shame. That would be one less paranormal to cause trouble. 


“Um, you need an apartment?” Sam had never heard of a vampire living in an apartment. “I thought you people had mansions and crypts and stuff.” 


The vampire threw back his head and laughed. “That’s only in the movies. Now, can I see your place?” 


“…Umm” Sam searched his mind for a good excuse. Anything to keep the skeevy, blood-sucking supernatural out of his house. 


The tall vampire smiled. “You know that part about vampires reading your mind?” 


With a sinking stomach, Sam nodded. 


“That part’s true.” 


Sam sighed. “You’d better come in. It’s right this way.” 


The day had started out so well, too. Now, Sam just wanted to go back to bed and hide under the covers. 


“I’d be happy to keep you company,” the vampire said in a low, sultry tone. For a second, Sam didn’t understand what the hell the vampire was talking about, and then he recalled what he had just thought about beds and covers. Sam looked over his shoulder to see the vampire checking out his ass. Rolling his eyes, he headed up the stairs, leading the vampire to the top floor. He pulled an old-fashioned key from his pocket, unlocked then opened the door. 


“No spell locks?” the vampire asked with concern in his voice. 


Sam shook his head. Like he’d had any time to do things like that. The vampire was lucky the room had been tidied and cleaned. “You’re welcome to add your own, of course.” Fuck, he was going to rent to a vampire. He could hope the creature didn’t want the place. “It’s nothing fancy.” 


Please want something fancy. 


Before Sam could take more than two steps into the apartment, the vampire pinned him to the wall. “I’m not a creature. I’m a man, and I’d be happy to show you exactly how manly I am.” 


To Sam’s shock, he could feel the vampire rubbing his erection against him. “U-um, s-sorry.” Was this what vampires did just before they drank every drop of blood from your body? 


“I don’t want you sorry. I just want you to want me.” 


Sudden, inexplicable desire burned through Sam and his body hardened in reaction to the proximity of another man. The vampire smiled, exposing a flash of fang. A shiver of fear trembled down Sam’s spine. 


“No!” He shoved at the vampire, who, surprisingly, broke his hold and released Sam. 


The vampire watched Sam with a wary look. “What are you?” 


Why does everyone keep asking me that? 


“I’m human, okay? Just human.” Sam scowled at the vampire. 


“No human has ever shattered my glamor.” The vampire sounded thoughtful, and his appraising look unnerved Sam. 


“Well, good for me.” Sam folded his arms. He might not like paranormals, but he knew enough about vampires and their way of controlling people to know he didn’t want that within six feet of him. “I’m not going to rent a room to someone who tried to glamor me. You might as well go.” 


The vampire smiled. “My name is Bob.” 


A snort of laughter burst out of Sam. “Your name isn’t Bob.” 


The vampire tilted his head, and his eyes glowed with amusement. “How do you know?” 


“Because I just had a witch tell me not to share my name with a paranormal so I doubt you would be telling me your real name.” 


Bob grabbed Sam’s wrist. His grip was firm, and instinctively Sam yanked his arm to try to break the vampire’s hold. “There was a witch here?” Bob snapped urgently. “What did she look like?” 


“A witch.” What did it matter what she looked like? “She was old, crony, and witchy. You know—” He gestured expansively with his free hand— “A witch.” 


“What did she want?” Bob still hadn’t let go of his wrist. The vampire didn’t know his own strength. One last tug and Bob finally let him loose. Idly, Sam rubbed at the sore skin burn. 


“From what she said, werewolf bones.” 


Bob scanned the room as if he expected the witch to jump out of the wall or something. “Never trust a witch and never, ever, tell a witch your real name.” 


“Okay, um… Bob.” Sam could barely hold back the laughter building inside him. 


“My real name is Roberto, but I go by Bob,” Bob finally said. “Vampires don’t have last names outside a coven. Your last name reveals the group you belong to. I am an independent.” 


Sam couldn’t hold back the laugh inside him. Dire warnings about witches aside, he couldn’t wrap his head around a badass vampire calling himself Bob. Hell, a vampire named Bob. That was wrong on so many levels. 


“Vampires are supposed to be sexy. There’s nothing sexy about a Bob,” Sam finally managed to say without laughing. Why he cared what the vampire called himself, he didn’t know, but there was no way he was going to call a vampire Bob. 


Bob seemed to forget his need to warn Sam about witches and names and instead pulled Sam into his arms. Evidently he had returned to his first agenda. “I’m sure I can convince you I’m sexy,” he drawled. What was it about this man—vampire, whatever—feeling like he could manhandle him at every turn? 


Sam narrowed his eyes at the vampire. The man might be the sexiest thing Sam had ever seen, but he wasn’t going to admit it… 


Damn. He had just thought that. And damn—Bob had heard him. Shit. Bob was definitely smirking. 


“Do you have a multiple personality disorder or something? You bounce around more than anyone I’ve ever met. From scary vampire to smirking idiot in a second.” 


Bob smiled and didn’t appear to take offense at Sam’s comment. “You’ll have plenty of time to examine my personality when I move in. How much is the rent?” The quick change of subject threw Sam, but it didn’t keep him from trying one last time to stop Bob from moving in. He mentioned an exorbitant amount for the monthly rent to attempt to deter the vampire. 


Bob released Sam, and then walked through the living room and down the hall. There were two bedrooms and a small kitchen, though Sam doubted Bob would need a kitchen. Vampires didn’t eat real food. Right? But wouldn’t he need a fridge or something for all the blood? Or would he be one of those vampires with a live donor? 


What did Sam know? He had thought vampires could only come out at night. 


Sam pushed aside thoughts of blood. 


Bob returned to Sam’s side in long, confident strides. “I’ll take it.” 


Shit!




Chapter Two 


Not for the first time, as Sam inhaled the dust in his uncle’s storeroom, he wondered if he should have worn a mask. Dust was everywhere. The damned stuff covered years of undisturbed chaos piled in the corner of his uncle’s filing system. Spider webs, dark and thick, coiled in and around files that were faded with age. The top one, labeled Aster vs. Aster, was dated fifteen years ago, so God knows what the rest was like. 


Throwing back the full black drapes brought light into the otherwise dismal space. He finally got a good look at the room his uncle had always called ‘the bookroom.’ Objects, boxes, letters, and photos covered every conceivable surface. A pile of notes here, a file of case observations there. With no discernible organization at all, the sight of it almost sent Sam running back out and shutting the book room door behind him. 


He opened Aster vs. Aster and traced a finger down the spidery writing. 


“Edgar Aster, Elf, aged…” He peered closer. “Aged one hundred eighty-three. Against Agnes Aster, daughter of… pursuant to… what the hell?” Even with his reading glasses perched on the end of his nose, it was difficult to work his way through both the handwriting and the legalese. The notes were sketchy, and then all of a sudden there was a switch in language. He couldn’t understand the English parts, let alone the symbols that lined the page. 


“Edgar Aster cheated on his wife.” The voice came out of one of the other dark corners, and Sam spun around, brandishing the file in front of him. 


“What the hell?” 


“He cheated on his wife. It says so on page fifty-seven. That is the conclusion reached.” The voice was so damn formal. Sam squinted at the shadowy corners but didn’t see anyone. Not even a little gargoyle statue sitting around waiting to come to life. 


Just as he decided he’d lost his frigging mind, the disembodied voice was joined by a body. Well, half of a body so far, actually. The full form was manifesting from wisps of smoke, and a man’s figure formed in front of Sam’s eyes. 


He’d seen ghosts before. On television. Not real ghosts; make-believe ghosts. He knew they existed for real, but they generally kept to themselves. 


“Then you’ll never guess what he did.” The ghost floated nearer as a nose joined his face and ears aligned on each side of his head. The ghost’s voice dripped with the tone of someone sharing salacious gossip. Glee danced in his pale misty eyes. Definite glee. “He got his wife and girlfriend pregnant at the same time.” 


“At one hundred-eighty-seven years old?” Sam blurted, painfully aware he was having a conversation with a ghost, who appeared trapped in a time from centuries past. The britches and a flowing white shirt put the ghost a few hundred years earlier than current, and the long ringlets cascading to his shoulders gave him a more feminine look than the man’s voice suggested. 


“That’s nothing,” the ghost said conspiratorially. Sam found himself unconsciously leaning closer to hear. With a snort of disgust, he pulled himself back. The ghost didn’t appear to notice, now fully formed and standing—floating—in front of him. “Turns out he had seven mistresses and…” His voice trailed off as he raised his eyebrows. “He had so many children, he ran out of elvish names to call them.” 


“Oh,” Sam offered helplessly. The ghost held out his hand as if to shake it, and Sam, on instinct, made to grasp the offered fingers only to watch his own hand pass straight through the misty one. The ghost giggled. Seriously chuckled with mirth. Then, to Sam’s shock, he floated straight through Sam. 


Sam shivered at the icy sensation that passed through him and jerked forward as soon as it was done. Swiveling on his feet, he turned to face the ghost, who was staring at him with an odd expression. 


“I didn’t like that,” the ghost said quietly. 


“You didn’t like it?” Sam spluttered. He felt violated and mildly nauseous. “I feel—” 


“What are you?” the ghost asked. 


“What? I’m the owner here. My uncle—” 


“No. What are you?” the ghost repeated his question in a slow, patient manner as if he were talking to a child. 


“What? Why does everyone ask me that? I’m the normal one here. I’m human.” 


“Oh.” The ghost looked puzzled. Then he wrinkled his nose and shrugged. Apparently he didn’t understand that Sam was the human here. “Sorry about the…about before—you know the whole, umm…” 


“Ghosting through me and violating me?” Sam snapped the question. The ghost appeared offended and perched on the side of one of the desks. Sam could see the files through the pale form, like some kind of weird special effect. 


“I was just teasing you,” the ghost said idly. “I’m Theodore McCurray Constantine III. For some reason, your uncle Hanson liked to call me Teddy. I’m the file keeper.” His voice spilled over with pride as he straightened his ethereal shoulders. “It’s a big responsibility.” 


“The file keeper,” Sam repeated carefully. 


“Can I join in?” The voice was a welcome respite from making sense of why there was a ghost sitting on his desk. A ghost whose name appeared to be a mishmash from different continents. Teddy looked across to the door, and with a girly shriek, he vanished from sight, leaving only a few random wisps of smoke that trailed around where he had been sitting. 


Sam ran his fingers through his hair and sighed loudly. 


“You may be renting from me, Bob, but this is my room and vamp…tenants are not allowed in this part of the building.” 


Bob looked around the space, with its tangle of files, boxes, and books, then, disregarding Sam’s statement, he strode the few steps to Sam and took the file from his hand. 


“Aster? I remember him.” Bob looked up at the ceiling with a smile on his face and reminisced. “What a guy.” 


Sam immediately reacted negatively. This Aster, if he could believe the ghost, had been a serial adulterer. There was nothing remotely fabulous or amazing about that. “He sounded like a bastard. Cheating on his wife.” 


“Wives,” Bob corrected quickly. 


“Wives? It gets worse.” 


“So you don’t like the idea of a cheat?” Bob asked thoughtfully. Sam’s mind wandered to thoughts of his ex. He narrowed his eyes as Bob stared, suddenly remembering the vampire could read his thoughts. 


“Did you know that vampires mate for life?” Bob began conversationally. “We don’t cheat. Ever. A cheating vampire is a dead vampire.” 


“Yay for vampires,” Sam replied sarcastically. Bob took one step closer, and Sam took a measured step backward. His ass hit one of the filing cabinets, preventing him from backing up any further. “You scared Teddy.” Changing the subject was probably a good thing at this point. 


Bob waggled a hand from side to side. “Vampires don’t get on with ghosts and vice versa.” 


“They don’t?” Why? Why did I give him the chance to explain? He’s freaking me out, and he’s between me and the door. 


“I think the veil is thinnest between a vampire and a ghost,” Bob offered in explanation. 


That was possibly one of the most insightful things Sam had heard since he had been a child sitting through interminable hours of remedial paranormal studies with Mr. Esterhoon. 


“Because you’re both dead people,” Sam offered. 


Bob took that final step forward until there was nothing more than a single breath between them. Damn it. There was a flash inside Sam, a curl of lust that climbed higher while sweat trickled down his back. His dick was so hard he could swear it was going to break the zipper on his pants. Bob had the most incredible eyes. Amber and gold, they shone with an unearthly light, and Sam could see every striation of color in the irises. And the scent of him? Of Roberto? A mix of earth and sky and oh so damn intoxicating. 


Placing his hands on either side of Sam, Bob pressed into him, clearly just as hard. Bob bent his head, and instinctively Sam tilted his head in response. Bob brushed a gentle kiss against Sam’s exposed neck. He couldn’t stop himself. He was going to let Bob feed on him, kiss him, fuck him and… 


Bob pulled back with a smirk on his face. 


“I can promise you I am not dead.” 


Sam pushed at Bob. “Stop that,” he snapped. “You’re up in my space, and I don’t like it.” Sam made his words firm and unyielding. Bob would have to understand exactly where he was coming from. No touching. Bob narrowed his eyes then shrugged. Evidently, Sam’s firm stance had hit a chord. Bob took a few steps back, and, crossing his arms over his chest, he only stared. They locked gazes. Bob’s focused look made Sam more and more nervous. In the end, Sam snapped. 


“You can go now,” he said. 


“I’m happy here.” Bob resolutely stood his ground, and Sam could feel the tension knotting inside him at the brooding vampire and his inability to just go. 


“This is my office and—” 


“You have a visitor,” Bob interrupted. He tilted his head to one side and closed his eyes. “Two actually. Of the same mind.” 


Sam hadn’t heard the door, but moved past Bob to peer over the banister and down the stairs anyway. Bob was right. Two figures stood huddled together in the wide entrance hall. Jeez. If Bob hadn’t said anything, Sam wouldn’t have known they’d arrived. There and then, he resolved not to spend time trawling through the file room at the expense of possibly losing a paying customer. He needed a bell, an alarm, or something. 


“You have visitors,” a voice whispered in his ear. Sam cursed in surprise as he turned to find Teddy, half there and half not, with a look of concern on his pale face. 


“I know, thank you,” Sam said sharply. 


“Are you going to ask them what they want?” And now Bob was there as well, right up next to him and tracing one of his long fingers down Sam’s arm. “I’m not sure you should leave clients standing in the hallway.” 


“Your uncle would have been down there already,” Teddy warned. 


That was the final straw. “Enough. I’m perfectly capable of dealing with clients.” 


Ignoring the sigh from Teddy, Sam pushed past Bob and went down the stairs as calmly as he could. Excitement built inside him as he observed the two tall, slim gentlemen, currently with their backs to him, talking quietly. With short blond spiky hair and dressed in jeans and sweaters, they looked normal. He could handle normal. Normal was easy. They apparently hadn’t noticed him arrive behind them, and it gave him a chance to brush the dust off his clothes. 


“Can I help you?” he asked. They stopped talking and, in perfect unison, turned to face him. 


Twins. 


Twins with narrow, delicate features and wide, silver-blue eyes. 


Twins with runes and other markings tattooed in exact replica on each perfectly sculpted right cheek. Not to mention the pronounced widow's peak and the silver threaded into their short hair. He racked his brain, trying to remember a classification for this particular type of non-human but failed. Tall. Slim. Silvery. Tattooed faces. Sighing inwardly, he realized now was the test of his promise to himself to only work for humans. The twins didn’t seem so bad. No fangs or huge sharp teeth, no fur, and they appeared fairly harmless. 


“We have lost our third,” one of the twins said directly. He held out a hand, which Sam instinctively grasped to shake. 


“Our third is lost,” they said together to emphasize the reason for the visit. Sam shook his hand also. Sparks chased up his arm, and he felt curiously dizzy for an instant. The twins looked at each other, and the first took a step forward to release the other's handshake. 


“Not now,” he said. 


“Not now,” the second repeated. 


Shaking off the dizzy feeling and not at all understanding this strange conversation, he gestured with a hand toward the office. The two visitors walked into the room first. They stopped just inside the door, and Sam shuffled around them as best he could before sliding into his chair. 


“Please. Sit.” He wondered if he should have offered coffee, but after casting a quick look at his uncle’s old coffee machine, he wasn’t entirely sure he could work the damn thing. Nothing led him to imagine for one minute that he could fix a proper cup under the watchful gaze of the strange silver-eyed twins. They sat in perfect unison, and both wore the same expectant expressions on their faces. Pulling his brand-new notepad from the side of his desk, he sat poised with the pen hovering over the paper. 


“You said you’re missing your third. Can you elaborate at all? Your third what?” It was a safe question. They had mentioned losing a third. 


“Us,” Twin on the left said. 


“Us,” Twin on the right repeated. 


“Us. You. Um…” Sam scribbled in the notebook. One word. ‘Us’. A good start. 


“Can I maybe get some more details?” More lucid details that actually made sense, maybe? 


“We created a list.” 


“A list,” he repeated. This was going nowhere fast. 


Left twin passed the paper over along with a photo of a man who looked just like the two men sitting across from Sam. He set aside the picture, grabbed his reading glasses, and peered down at the writing. He didn’t know what he’d been expecting, but it wasn’t this simple list written in English No runes or hieroglyphics, but actual writing. Of course, the normality ended there. He didn’t understand one thing on the list. 


“Places he was seen.” 


“Places he went.” 


Sam did recognize one name as that of a local nightclub, but it could be a coincidence. He looked back up at the twins. Both of whom appeared to be close to tears. Hell. He hated it when people cried. He never knew what to say or do. 


Okay. The third is a person. Someone who means a lot to two men who look like twins. 


He sat back in his chair and steepled his fingers. He had seen his uncle do that on more than one occasion, and he had always thought it made his uncle look brilliant and considering. Finally, he put his thoughts into words. 


“So,” he started carefully. “Your third, your brother or triplet, is missing, and these are the places he has been spotted. You are hiring me to track down your missing brother.” 


“With haste,” left twin intoned gravely. 


“Utmost haste,” right twin enforced. 


Sam looked back down at the paper. “Can I get some contact details for you?” He looked up, but the twins had stood and were already at the office door. “Wait.” Clambering to stand, and cursing his leg that somehow had become trapped between chair and desk, he finally stumble-tripped out to the hallway. 


Gone. Both ethereal twins were gone. Throwing open the front door, he stepped out into the sunlight and blinked at the sudden change in brightness. Scanning the street for a car, or at least two walking men, he stared up and down the road. Nothing. Totally gone. 


Damn it. He had nothing much in the way of information, no names…and no money. Maybe that piece of paper would reveal more than he thought, but he hadn’t even agreed to a damn fee. Shit. 


Freaking paranormals.