The Gallows Tree

<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3u1XOtiWiL4pfbh9f5p5gI2QRxT_6Bx029v8nppUO0EfyHLRPWl6rjEPWCBAlOLAcppBGmofAKHP6owReQ9ykDEG7ZLPJobuv1cJ24Oyj5yiUS6010AvcGaCtORhR24lvMLG9vmW2EA/s1600/Gallows+4x6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; display: inline !important; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3u1XOtiWiL4pfbh9f5p5gI2QRxT_6Bx029v8nppUO0EfyHLRPWl6rjEPWCBAlOLAcppBGmofAKHP6owReQ9ykDEG7ZLPJobuv1cJ24Oyj5yiUS6010AvcGaCtORhR24lvMLG9vmW2EA/s400/Gallows+4x6.jpg" width="266" /></a><br /><b><span style="font-size: large;">The Book</span></b><br /><div><b><br /></b></div><div><br />Cody Garret is only just finding his way after an abusive relationship ended with his ex in prison. Coming to England to restore Mill Cottage is his way of running so he has time to heal. His goal is simple—hire a company to help make the mill cottage saleable then go back to the States.<br /><br /><br />What he doesn’t count on is meeting Sebastian Toulson-Brown, the brother of his contractor and the man who may be able to show him he can stop running.<br /><br /><br />But first Cody and Sebastian must deal with the ghosts of lost loves and the destinies that are woven into the story of the mill and the sycamore trees that stand on its land, one of which might be the gallows tree.<br /><br /><span style="font-size: large;"><b></b></span><br /><span style="font-size: large;"><b></b></span><br /><span style="font-size: large;"><b></b></span><br /><span style="font-size: large;"><b></b></span><br /><span style="font-size: large;"><b>Buy Links - eBook</b></span><br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://www.lovelanebooks.co.uk/index.php?main_page=product_info&cPath=8&products_id=34" target="_blank">Love Lane Books</a> </span><span style="font-size: small;">| </span><a href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B00D8DDOIG/ref=as_li_ss_tl?ie=UTF8&camp=1634&creative=19450&creativeASIN=B00D8DDOIG&linkCode=as2&tag=rjsc-21" target="_blank">Amazon UK</a> | <a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B00D8DDOIG/ref=as_li_ss_tl?ie=UTF8&camp=1789&creative=390957&creativeASIN=B00D8DDOIG&linkCode=as2&tag=rjsc-20">Amazon US</a> | <a href="https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-thegallowstree-1217015-149.html" target="_blank">All Romance</a> | <a href="http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-gallows-tree-rj-scott/1108357626?ean=2940044565050" target="_blank">Barnes & Noble</a> | <a href="https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/306566" target="_blank">Smashwords</a>  | <a href="http://store.kobobooks.com/en-US/Books/the-gallows-tree-1" target="_blank">Kobo</a></div><br /><span style="font-size: large;"><b>Buy Links - Print Book</b></span><br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"> </span><a href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/1492274291/ref=as_li_ss_tl?ie=UTF8&camp=1634&creative=19450&creativeASIN=1492274291&linkCode=as2&tag=rjsc-21" target="_blank">Amazon UK</a> | <a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/1492274291/ref=as_li_ss_tl?ie=UTF8&camp=1789&creative=390957&creativeASIN=1492274291&linkCode=as2&tag=rjsc-20" target="_blank">Amazon US</a></div><br /><b><span style="font-size: large;">Reviews</span></b><br /><b><br /></b><b style="text-align: right;"><a href="http://www.paranormalromanceguild.com/reviewsrjscott.htm" target="_blank">Paranormal Romance Guild</a> 5/5 - </b>"...There is also a mystery in the book and surprises, but mostly it is a look into the life of an abused person and how they fight to find themselves. This is a problem that is very prevalent in our society and one in which we constantly see the abused defending the abuser. I was very happy that this author did not shy away from this situation ..."<br /><br /><b><a href="http://heartsonfirereviews.com/?p=788">Hearts on Fire Reviews</a> 5/5 hearts - </b>There are several plot lines to follow in this story which keeps it interesting and keeps the pages turning. The wounded Cody and the patient Sebastian are perfect together as the explore the past only to find their future.<br /><br /><b><span style="font-size: large;"></span></b><br /><a name="more"></a><b><span style="font-size: large;">Excerpt</span></b><br /><br /><b>Chapter 1 </b><br /><br />"I'm really starting to lose my shit here." Cody Garret gripped his cell phone tight.<br /><br />"Calm down, Cody." His mom was using the patented talking-Cody-down-from-the-ledge technique they had perfected over the last few years. But she sounded wrong, and even though her voice was broken up by interference, he could sense her worry. He wished to hell he could reassure her and say he was okay. <br /><br />"I. Can't. Calm. Down," he bit out through gritted teeth. The panic that usually stayed buried well inside him threatened to push to the surface with an insistent press of pain at his temples and a cold sweat that left him shaky. <br /><br />"Can you count for me, darling?" Nothing was working. Not the counting or the imagining his happy place. Jeez. His happy place was so far away from being stuck here it wasn't even funny. The traffic on this road snaking around London in one big circle was his vision of hell. <br /><br />"I've been in this tiny fricking Toyota for six hours, Mom, and in the last hour we've gone four miles. Four." <br /><br />"Has there been an accident or something?" <br /><br />"I can't see. I'm just in a line of freaking stopped cars." <br /><br />"Can't you turn off from the road you're on? Maybe take a back road?" He knew his mom was trying to help, but he'd thought all this already. <br /><br />"I'm in between turnoffs; I'm stuck where I am." <br /><br />"Okay. Do you need me to get Anna?" Anna was the only other person outside of his mom that had a handle on these panic attacks, but the last thing he wanted was for his heavily pregnant sister to have to deal with his crap. His mom had managed to throw the equivalent of ice water at him with that simple question. <br /><br />"No," he said quickly. "I'll be fine. Listen. I'm—breathing." <br /><br />"Cody—" <br /><br />"The lights are changing ahead," he lied convincingly. "I'll call you." <br /><br />"Cody, promise me you'll pull over if this gets worse." <br /><br />"I promise." He disconnected the call. Tears choked his throat, and he wondered what the guy in the Lotus next to him would think if he saw Cody beat his head against the steering wheel. Claustrophobia and anxiety clawed inside him like a wild animal wanting to escape a cage, and he was willing to do anything to clear his head. Even give himself a concussion. <br /><br />Both front windows were fully down, and the car blower was on full blast, but it wasn't enough air. He considered climbing out of the car and standing on the M25 just to feel something except the metal box around him. The noise of a horn snapped through the fog in his head, and he realized the cars in front of him were actually moving. Slowly, but moving. Shaking with tension and desperate to just get the hell off this road, he pressed lightly enough on the accelerator to join this crawling snake of steel as it carved its way through flat green countryside closer to where he needed to be. Pain banded his head, and he focused on the tension in his shoulders and neck that was causing the headache. He had to concentrate on relaxing, but dizziness assailed him. It took all his concentration to keep the car on the damn road at five miles an hour. <br /><br />Finally the sign for the exit was by the side of his car. Then he passed it, and it was a way back, and then before he had even gotten control of his breathing, he was off from the static parking lot that was the London orbital and onto a new motorway heading north from the city. <br /><br />Thankfully whatever was stopping the traffic on the M25 didn't appear to exist on this new road. He pressed his foot to the floor, and incredibly air was inside the car, whipping his too-long bangs around his face. The air coming into the car was heavy with heat; he didn't remember reading anywhere that England was supposed to have a heat wave in October and not for the first time he wished he had done more research. Not caring where it took him, he decided he needed to be off this road and took the first exit off of the M1. Turning onto a quieter road, he took a left, then a right, and finally found a place to pull over. <br /><br />Almost like his mother knew he'd managed to find a way through the metal hell, his cell rang, and he saw it was her. He answered on the third ring as he clambered out of the small car and inhaled great lungfuls of air. <br /><br />"Cody?" She sounded as anxious as he felt. <br /><br />"I'm okay," he said quickly. "Sorry. I'm okay," he repeated. The last was more for his own sake than his mom's. He needed to tell himself he was moving through to the other side of the attack and that he would stay well and sane. <br /><br />"Cody, you made this decision too soon. I wish you had waited—" <br /><br />"I couldn't wait, Mom," he interrupted quickly. He was so not ready for this conversation again. How the hell could anyone expect him to stay in Baltimore when there was a chance he could see Vince again? <br /><br />"What if the notes weren't from him, Cody? You should have taken them to the police…" <br /><br />Cody closed his eyes tight against the midday sun that burned through his thin jacket and made him sweat. He wished he could take it off, but his fair skin needed to stay covered; it burned too quickly. He listened to his mom as she listed all the things that he should maybe have done. He knew all the what-ifs. His mind played them over and over again. What if he hadn't met Vince Antonelli? What if he hadn't gone home with him? What if Vince hadn't done just enough for a younger more impressionable Cody to fall in love? Would any of it have happened? Or was Cody Garret predestined to always be some man's punching bag? <br /><br />"Don't." The single plea was all he managed to say. Unspoken was the begging to be left alone to work his way through all of this. His counselor had said it was Cody's form of denial. Not talking about it meant it didn't happen. Hadn't happened. Meant that he hadn't almost died. Self-consciously he placed his free hand over his heart where the worst of the scarring lay and opened his eyes to focus on the weeds and grass at his feet. "I showed them to a friend and he said that there was nothing in them that meant they were from Vince." <br /><br />"This friend. He's a cop?" <br /><br />"Not exactly—" <br /><br />"You should have let…" Cody zoned out again. He had the notes that had been sent on to him in his suitcase, and every phone call was listed in a diary of dates. When he was ready, he would take them to the cops. Because… taking this proof of Vince contacting him to the authorities meant having to face his ex again. He couldn't do that yet. <br /><br />"Cody?" Damn. There was his mom's sad voice again. If he didn't know clearly every minute what effect Vince's actions had had on his mom and sister, that single small calling of his name was enough to remind him. She always sounded as if Cody's world had ended, and it hurt so badly. Straightening his spine, he pulled the cloak of invulnerability around him that he used so often. <br /><br />"Mom I'm in England. This is a good thing," he said confidently. "I'm an entire continent away from seeing him, at least for a while, and it's beautiful here." He looked down the road running off the main motorway. The blacktop wasn't exactly picture perfect English village; more of a road to nowhere. The banks and sides were landscaped with spindly trees that clung tenaciously to steep inclines, and he traced their zig-zag path with his eyes. She didn't have to know that what he was looking at could be a road in any country. <br /><br />"Is it?" his mom said wistfully. Cody was relieved he had managed to get his mom off Vince and on to her favorite subject: England. <br /><br />"Very…" He searched for the right adjective to bolster her mood and found the one thing that had caught his eye. "…green." He finished with a flourish, and he heard his mom's sigh. <br /><br />"Great-gran always said it was beautiful there." Cody bit his tongue that his long deceased great-gran couldn't have been talking about this particular unmarked road as a welcome breeze blew a familiar wrapper past him. Curling around the nearest small sapling, it stuck to the metal support that surrounded it. The golden arches reminded Cody he hadn't had anything to eat in the last seven hours. Not since he'd left Gatwick and located his rental. <br /><br />"It is," he lied again. He had gotten very good at lying over the past few years. Lying about his name, his family, his lover, and his pain. <br /><br />"How far is it to Lower Ferrers?" <br /><br />"Hang on." He leaned in through the open window and checked the navigation system. <br /><br />"An hour maybe," he answered finally. Leaning back against the hot metal of the car, he cradled the phone close to his ear. "Is Ben home?" <br /><br />"He's with your sister at her appointment." <br /><br />Irrational fear gripped Cody, but he pushed it down ruthlessly. Vince had never actually threatened his family—the threats had always been to Cody—so why did he suddenly feel so anxious? <br /><br />"Why didn't you go with them, Mom?" <br /><br />"They need their time alone. I promise you I'm all right here, Cody. Ben has every security device available on the house." Ben's ex-career in a shady Army special ops group meant he wasn't short of a trick or two when it came to personal safety. None of that stopped the nausea Cody got imagining Vince in his family's life. It was enough that Vince knew where his mom lived, but the idea that he might hurt her in any way was unfathomable. <br /><br />"Will you call me when they get back, Mom?" He could have bitten his tongue at that question. His mom hated it that he worried so much about her and Anna. <br /><br />"I will," she said carefully. Then she paused, and Cody could imagine her thinking hard on what to say next, about Cody over-reacting, about how Cody shouldn't worry. He wanted to stop that dead in its tracks. <br /><br />"Mom, please reconsider and move in with Anna." Such an old argument, and whenever Cody said those words, he felt another inch of his self-esteem being flayed from him. His mom had friends, and his sister was going to be busy with the new child. Cody was the one who had changed the way he looked at life after Vince. Exposing himself and his fears was visceral, and it hurt. <br /><br />Hurt so much. <br /><br />"Call me when you get to the hotel?" She chose to ignore his plea, but Cody didn't feel hurt as the argument was one Cody would never win. She moved on to the next thing on her momma agenda. He knew what was coming next. "And make sure you sign on with the doctor there. I don't know what they'll be like over there, but they need to know for your script." There, in a few sentences she had covered shelter and health. "And don't forget to eat." He almost laughed at the triad of needs she always placed on him. He would have laughed if he didn't feel the familiar panic rise up in him at all the things he had to do once he found his new home. <br /><br />"I will call you, I'll sign on with the doctor as soon as I can, and I'm stopping at the next place that does food." She harrumphed at his summation of what she had said, but at least they were ending the conversation on a level of humor. That was a good thing chalked against Cody's list of bad things. <br /><br />"Stay safe, Cody. I love you." <br /><br />"I love you, Momma. Get Anna to email me." <br /><br />"I will. Bye, sweetheart." <br /><br />The call ended. There would be at least another couple of hours until he heard his mom's voice and already he had his thumb hovering over the redial button needing the sound of her voice in his ear. She had been his constant over the last six years—the one person that knew most of what had happened and who had become his anchor as he drifted around America for the last twenty-four months. <br /><br />Emails, texts, and some limited instant messaging as he moved around the country were the only contacts he had with the family he loved. Every so often he would visit them, but he never stayed long. He couldn't stay anywhere for long. Even the idea of six months here was revving up his fears. Now he was missing the birth of his niece or nephew, and that was the full stop in the sentence he was living. <br /><br />"Stay until the baby is born, Cody?" Anna had asked with eyes full of compassion. That was the worst for Cody. Anna wouldn't argue with him; she simply understood he didn't want to be there for the day Vince actually managed to corner him. She didn't start the tirade of getting him to tell the cops; she understood him so well. Or rather she was willing to let him feel like he was making the right decision. <br /><br />He keyed local places to eat into the navigation system and found the closest McDonald's. A healthy food choice it wasn't, but he needed convenience. He needed carbs, and he needed them now. Closing the car door, he pulled on the belt, wincing at the wrench on his chest and arm. The reflex was automatic, and the curse that accompanied it a tried and tested way to vent the pain from his system. He settled his breathing as well as he could and turned the key. The car started on the first turn, which was about the only good thing going for it, and cautiously he pulled out on to the road, allowing the smooth tones of some British actor guide him to food. <br /><br />Roundabouts were the devil's curse, and traffic lights and driving on the wrong side of the road was so damn confusing he was sure he didn't know his left from his right anymore. Somehow he managed to find the McDonald's, and full of burgers and fries, he continued on his journey. Before he knew it, the sign for Buckinghamshire became visible in the late afternoon warmth. The GPS said twenty minutes to reaching destination. Then ten. When he turned off the final main road into what could euphemistically be called a two-way road, he knew he was almost there. The road wasn't wide; in fact, he imagined two cars would be unable to pass each other without someone pulling onto grass verges. It wound downwards a while and then leveled out and he crossed a small bridge over a wide river. Signs warned for flooding and horses. Then he appeared to enter the village itself. <br /><br />Lower Ferrers. Please drive carefully. <br /><br />A big speed sign with a 30 in the middle and another warning for horses sat directly under, and he immediately lifted his foot off the gas until he was driving at more like half what the limit was. He wanted to remember every image of the next few minutes of his life. He had finally arrived at the place his mom's gran, his own great-gran, had left at the end of the war as a Yankee bride. The long curve of the road ran through dense trees that formed an arch of fall golds and browns over his head, and then suddenly, the village was laid out in front of him. <br /><br />He couldn't just drive in. He needed to stop and think about this final step. What if this was all wrong? This could be the worst decision of his life. What the hell did he know about renovation? He indicated and pulled off to the side of the road just past the signs and onto a widening in the narrow road next to a gate into fields. This was the England his great-gran had spoken about. <br /><br />The village was stunning. Beautiful. Old houses with crooked roof lines staggered drunkenly up the road all built in a soft weathered brown and gray stone. Each had a chimney and seemingly randomly placed windows. Cody counted six of these cottage-style houses and above them the top of twisted chimneys on a far grander building. Great oaks and sycamore trees, now with leaves of fall gold and red, towered over the cottages and the twisting road that followed their path upwards. Cody listed adjectives in his head. This was much better than green. This was an idyllic, picture-postcard place, and it was everything he had ever been told about this English village. On the opposite side of the road was a larger dwelling, and he saw the sign outside that proclaimed it as the Ferrers' Arms. <br /><br />The inn with the slate roof was where he was staying with an open-ended booking. He didn't know how long his stay would be. It could be a month or it could be the full six months. When he moved on depended on so many factors, not least of which was having somewhere to move to. He had a strange feeling inside, and he realized it was a sudden and renewed sense of enthusiasm. <br /><br />Panic and fear still clung tight in his chest, but his breathing was steady, and the sounds of the village—sheep in the field, horses, birds—and the perfect stillness of the fall sky was utter peace. He closed his eyes and breathed deep. One minute he had been on the highway to hell, and within an hour, he was in the quiet and calm of a village that had been here for centuries. What was it people said? Stepping back in time or something like that. Standing here it certainly felt like he was entering another world. <br /><br />Was it possible that by his arrival here in the village where his family had roots he was taking a controlled step away from his past rather than running blindly? <br /><br />Hell, where had that thought come from? A controlled step? Shaking his head at the flight of fancy, he imagined he was losing it big time. Back in the car, he drove the short distance to the Ferrers' Arms and parked up on a gravel lot to the side. The building itself was small and looked older than the cottages, and the sign was of a shield split into two pieces. He could identify the two symbols—a white horse and a cross. He loved history, but the history he'd learned in school was a whole world away from what was here. He pulled his two bags out of the back seat, only two because travelling light was how he had lived for going on two years, and it was how he would remain for a long time. <br /><br />Pausing to look back at the cottages, he took time to contemplate exactly where the mill was from here. He could see the ribbon of water passing at the base of the hill and remembered driving over a small bridge just before the speed sign. As far as he knew, water equaled mill. If his great-gran had been right, there was one hell of a lot of water as the River Ouse ran through this rural community. What he needed to get his hands on were old maps of the area so he could pinpoint where he was and what he was going to do. A visit to a library in a town would probably answer most of his questions. That could wait though. Right now a beer and some uninterrupted sleep were calling him. After nine hours on the plane and eight on the road, he was running on empty. <br /><br />"You standin' out here all day, son?" The voice was gruff and threaded with impatience, and it was enough to pull Cody out of introspection and into embarrassment. He was literally standing in front of the main door of the pub. <br /><br />"Sorry, I was daydreaming," he responded instinctively. He looked up at the other man. A tall wide-built giant with gray hair and deeply carved laughter lines, he looked as old as the village itself. <br /><br />"You're the Yank?" the other man asked curiously. Cody swallowed and shrank back a little. One well-aimed hit from this guy, and old man or not, the force would knock Cody to the floor. <br /><br />"American," Cody offered cautiously. <br /><br />"Here for the mill then." <br /><br />Wait. This stranger knew about Cody being in the village and his connection to the mill? Okay. At first that didn't make any sense, but just as suddenly, it all became clear to Cody's paranoid mind. Foreboding spread over him with a cloak of attached panic. How did this man know who he was? Did he know Vincent? Did Vincent know Cody had jumped on a flight to England? Had Cody been followed? Irrational and implausible reasons climbed and tumbled onto each other, and the familiar tightness pulled in the center of his chest. He took a step back and felt the solid presence of the doorframe against his back. The scents of alcohol filled his senses, and when he got to look back at what happened rationally, it was probably the first trigger to everything that happened next. The other man narrowed his eyes and then reached out his hands. <br /><br />"Son, you don't look so good." He grasped Cody around the upper arms and held him firmly. <br /><br />"L-leave…" Don't touch me. Don't hold me like that. <br /><br />"I'm the landlord here. Let's see if I can rustle up a drink and some food." <br /><br />"I-I already ate," Cody stuttered, staring up at the large guy. He flexed his muscles to get the bigger man to let him go, even as terror grabbed at him. Vince would hold him like this, gripped tight and the perfect target for anger and hate. Cody wriggled and pushed insistently, and the landlord released his grip with a bemused look on his face. He thumped Cody on the back, and a belly laugh rolled from him. <br /><br />"John Abbotson," he said loudly, and with a none-too-gentle shove, he pushed Cody the final inches through the front door. That was sensory overload, and with a deep groan that seemed to grow from him in a keening noise, he dropped to the floor with his hands over his face and his head bowed. Part exhaustion, part fear and all too much, Cody was into the nightmare of the terror assault before he could stop himself. <br /><br />"John! What did you do?" Hands touched Cody, but this time, they were softer. They were gentle and thoughtful in the path they traced. <br /><br />"He wanted to come in. I helped," John offered in response. <br /><br />"You idiot man. You don't know your own strength," the female admonished. "Poor kid looks like a stiff breeze would knock him down and you go manhandling him through the door. Why did you push him? Have you hurt him?" <br /><br />"I didn't push him hard." <br /><br />"Hello? Can you hear me? Would you like some water?" <br /><br />"He's the Yank, that Garret boy." <br /><br />"Garret? Cody Garret?" she repeated. "Cody? Do I need to call a doctor?" <br /><br />"Just get him stood up. He doesn't need a doctor—" <br /><br />"John. Do something useful. Get some water, shut the front door, and then just leave us be." Cody heard noises and felt cool glass as it was touched gently to his arm. <br /><br />"Cody? Are you Cody Garret? I'm Abigail, and that idiot you met is my husband. I'm sorry if he hurt you. Are you okay? Would you like me to call the doctor?" <br /><br />Cody counted down from a hundred as Abigail's voice calmed him from his intense reaction. She wasn't crowding him, and she was talking low and steady. Somehow she must know that room to breathe and think was vital. As the fear subsided, it was replaced by his customary embarrassment and shame, and he couldn't look her in the face. There was no way on this earth he was going to lift his hands from his eyes and see her pitying expression. <br /><br />"Can you look at me?" she asked gently. "Cody?" <br /><br />Soft hands closed on his and gently prized each finger away from his eyes until the only thing that blocked his vision was his eyes being screwed tightly shut. <br /><br />"Will you open your eyes for me, Cody?" <br /><br />"I can't." Cody couldn't do what she asked. How many people had seen this happen to him? How many pairs of eyes had been focused on him, exposing the shame of what he had become to all? <br /><br />"It's only me," she said softly. He must have said something out loud. "John is in the cellar with the barrels now, and the pub is empty. Open your eyes, Cody." She was running her hands gently up and down his arms, and it felt like his mom was there. He opened his eyes slowly and blinked at the small amount of light around them. <br /><br />"There now. That's better," Abigail said gently. Focusing on her proved to be difficult as she was very close to him. He scooted a few inches along the floor and could finally concentrate on brown eyes filled with compassion and a halo of riotous red curls. "My idiot husband doesn't know how strong he is." <br /><br />A multitude of emotion flooded him. Shame gave way to dismay, which subsided quietly back into embarrassment. He needed to word that for her so she could understand. An entire sentence was required here, one where he explained why he had succumbed to a panic attack and why he sat shivering on the floor of his new home with a thin sheen of sweat on his skin. <br /><br />"Shit," was what he actually said. Abigail smiled and then nodded. <br /><br />"Can you stand?" she asked. <br /><br />There wasn't really a response needed. He had to show her he wasn't entirely useless, and using the rough-hewn stone walls as support, he carefully stood. The head rush was expected, but her hand on his arm as he rose was a new experience. He was used to being alone when he had these meltdowns. She passed him the water. <br /><br />"You'll be exhausted. Long flight and then a drive, I assume?" she asked very matter-of-factly. <br /><br />"Yes, but that wasn't—" <br /><br />"All caught up with you. Have you eaten?" <br /><br />"Yes." <br /><br />"Good. Good. I'll show you your room, and you can get some sleep." <br /><br />"Thank you." <br /><br />"I won't mention this again." <br /><br />"I—" <br /><br />"Bed." Her voice brooked no argument, and unlikely as it was he could even muster the words to tell her to back off, he didn't. He actually listened. <br /><br />She encouraged him to a door at the rear of the bar marked private and up narrow stairs. His room was at the back, overlooking wide empty fields and small hills in the distance. He could see the curve of the river if he looked to the right and the back of the large building with the ornate chimneys he had noticed behind the cottages earlier. The large house was big and sprawling and right at one end of the village. <br /><br />"The manor house," Abigail explained. "The church is opposite, and they use the bells every third Sunday. They start quite early, but you have a few days until the next one." <br /><br />"Why only every third Sunday?" Cody was intrigued enough to ask. <br /><br />"That's mostly what happens here now. When three or four churches in proximity share a vicar, the services are alternated at each. The church backs onto the mill land; in fact, I think the land you own is adjacent to the churchyard, although I could be wrong. Never mind. I'll bring up some wrapped food for you and leave you to sleep. Jet lag will drag you down I know, and you may wake up hungry in the middle of our night." <br /><br />"Thank you." <br /><br />"A drink too," she added. "Through here is the bathroom. There's plenty of hot water." She indicated a heavy oak door and pushed it open to reveal a startling white bathroom with a bath and a shower over it. Cody turned to the bed, a huge four-poster affair that wouldn't look out of place in a castle. Gauzy material hung from each corner, and the quilt was a dark blue with a paler blue check. Every piece of furniture looked solid and permanent, and Cody felt comforted by it somehow. Even more so when, as Abigail left, she pointed out the one thing that really helped. <br /><br />"The door locks from inside," she said. Pointing at the big brass key in the lock, she turned it experimentally, and Cody heard the reassuring click. "So, I will go and scavenge food and drink and then you can close the door on the world and sleep. You won't hear much from the bar. This is a quiet place generally." <br /><br />"Thank you." <br /><br />He waited by the window until she came back with plated and wrapped sandwiches and a couple of packets of chips, an apple, and bottled water. <br /><br />"Breakfast is at eight if you manage it," she said. "Otherwise dinner is served all evening in the bar." <br /><br />She turned and pulled the door shut behind her, and he crossed to lock it after her. The sound of the key turning was a final turn in this troubling day. He thought maybe he should shower before climbing into the huge bed, but his body betrayed him and told him he needed sleep more than anything. After a quick text to let his mom know he was safe, he stripped and climbed under the warm covers. Here was a slice of heaven, and in seconds, he felt the edges of sleep draw in. <br /><br /><b>Chapter 2 </b><br /><br />He woke once at some god-awful time before dawn, and although disoriented, he managed to use the bathroom and sit back on his bed. Hunger gnawed inside him, and he made quick work of the sandwiches and the apple. The screen of his cell phone told him it was four in the morning, and the room was absolutely silent. <br /><br />The next time he woke it was to the noise of an engine, throaty and chugging and loud. He rolled onto his side to block it out. The noise sounded like farm machinery of some sort, and added to that, he could hear the loud mooing of cows. Voices shouted below his window in greeting, and half of him wanted to get up and check out what was down on the fields behind the pub. The other half wanted more sleep, and by the time he woke up again, it was dark outside, and his cell showed him it was seven forty. Apparently he'd slept nearly twenty-four hours. He'd missed three texts from his mom, one from his sister, and had two missed calls from an unknown number. <br /><br />He sent back reassuring messages then hovered over the unknown number notifications. After a moment's hesitation, he deleted them. It must be a coincidence that he had received calls. It couldn't be Vince; this was a new damn cell phone that he'd only picked up a few days before leaving the States. He decided enough was enough of sitting here. He needed a shower and clean clothes, and his stomach was protesting that he had to eat. <br /><br />Showered and dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt, he carefully he made his way down the steep stairs to the door into the bar. There he stopped. He was finding it hard to shake the embarrassment from yesterday's meltdown, but at least it wasn't morphing into full-on panic. The noises beyond the door were the clink of glasses and the sounds of talking, and he rested his hand against the wood to give himself a few seconds to regroup. <br /><br />The mixed scents of alcohol and people hit his senses as soon as the door opened and he took a step into the shadowed bar. <br /><br />"Cody." Abigail's voice was strong and clear above the hum of conversation, and as quickly as she spoke, the voices stilled. "Everyone, this is Cody Garret, great-grandson of Gwen Cole." <br /><br />"He's the American," her husband added helpfully, which evoked a few oohs and aahs and oh, yeses. <br /><br />"Hi, everyone," Cody offered weakly. He wasn't meeting anyone's eyes, and after a few seconds of uncomfortable silence, the talking resumed, and Cody breathed a sigh of relief. He didn't do crowds. That wasn't entirely fair; he used to feel right at home in a room full of people. Until Vincent. <br /><br />"Roast chicken okay with you? If not, we have a vegetarian option." By this time he had settled onto a stool at the bar, and John had asked him what he wanted to drink. <br /><br />"Chicken please," he said to Abigail, "and water, if that's okay." <br /><br />"A drink on the house, son. For yesterday." John was showing remorse in every syllable and the way he held up both of his huge hands in a silent plea. Cody wasn't holding a grudge. He wasn't stupid; John wasn't Vincent, and the gruff inn owner had no idea how damaged Cody really was. It was just one of those situations. <br /><br />"Really, water is fine," he reassured. <br /><br />John didn't argue, and Cody was thankful for small mercies. Water was enough, and he hadn't actually drunk anything alcoholic in six years. There was no way he was going to start now. Too much of what had happened with Vincent held the remembered scent of whisky fumes. A few of the other patrons came to chat with him, and over dinner, he answered questions about where he had lived and why he was in Lower Ferrers. He was vague enough about his past that he let no one know anything, but he focused entirely on why he was here, at least giving over what he knew people wanted to hear. Standard responses that would stop any more questions. <br /><br />"Mill Cottage was part of my gran's estate; she passed it to my mom when she died in '06. I'm here to work on the renovations to the old mill and the cottage and get them ready to sell for her." <br /><br />Reactions were mixed. They were roughly split between "old" and "new" village, the "old", who worried about newcomers buying the cottage and mill and the "new", whose conversations included words like property values and market upheaval. He hadn't expected much else from either group. John and Abigail stayed neutral, probably a good idea for the couple who ran what was probably the social center of the village. <br /><br />He asked a few questions about the company he'd contacted the week before to work on the cottage. Every response was positive. Apparently Manor Renovations was a local company, and Justin, the owner, had a good reputation. He hoped the feeling he'd had was justified when he actually met the company's representative in the morning. <br /><br />When everyone left and it was just the two behind the bar and himself, he pushed past not being tired and took himself to bed. Back in his room with the dark around him and his drapes closed, he spent an hour lying back with his eyes closed. There was no sleep for him yet, but he could sort through his thoughts before he tried to force his body to accept the new time zones. His cell vibrated, and he answered it without even thinking; his mom and sister hadn't contacted him in a few hours. <br /><br />"Hiya." His sister's voice was a welcome sound, and he grinned before even responding. <br /><br />"How you feeling, sis?" <br /><br />"Fat," she snapped back, but it just made him laugh. <br /><br />"How was the OB? Is everything okay with you and the baby?" <br /><br />"Another two weeks now but I swear Ben is freaking out more than me." She chuckled, and he joined in. Half of him wanted to talk to Ben and warn him to look after Anna, but he held back the urge to ask that his brother-in-law come to the phone. <br /><br />"I miss you, sis," he admitted when their conversation drew to a close. <br /><br />"Of course you do." She laughed. "I am awesome. Fat, but awesome." <br /><br />"I'm sorry I'm not going to be there for the baby—" <br /><br />"Don't go there, Cody. Enough with the apologizing. Do you think we don't understand?" <br /><br />"It's stupid—" <br /><br />"No, it's not stupid. You're not stupid. Six months there and you can get your head around the fact you need to deal with the Vince situation. Don't think of it as running; think of it as taking time to breathe." <br /><br />"I don't think I will ever be ready to deal with Vince." <br /><br />"The cops will know what to do. When you tell them he's harassing you, they'll know how to handle it." <br /><br />Cody's throat tightened with emotion. At that moment he wanted nothing more than to reach out and hug his sister. "I love you, sis." <br /><br />"I love you too, Cody." <br /><br />They talked a while longer, then after goodbyes, he found himself alone again in the dark listening to the sounds of the night. Restless, he climbed out of bed, crossed to the main window, and pulled the drapes. The harvest moon was full and cast an ethereal glow over the land outside the inn. It was utterly beautiful, still, and silent as befitted a place at two in the morning. The noise of hooves on the road caused him to glance right towards the manor house, and he squinted to see if he could see the horse and rider in the dark. <br /><br />He spotted movement, and as the horse came nearer the inn, he made out both the animal and a rider crossing the road bridge that he'd driven over yesterday. The horse was huge, and the rider tall in the saddle, and Cody wondered why someone would be out riding at this ungodly hour. Maybe it was another American with a screwed-up body clock. The rider guided the horse off the road and momentarily disappeared through a gap in the high hedges to reappear on the fields behind, crisp and clear in the moonlight. <br /><br />Cody caught a glimpse of white and then immediately knew exactly what he was watching. Some kind of lovers' tryst? A midnight, well, two o'clock, rendezvous between a man and a woman. The man slid from the horse in a smooth move, and in an instant, he had the small woman in his arms. The view was strangely erotic as he lifted her slight body into his arms and pressed her back against the fence surrounding the field, and Cody wondered if he should even be watching. He thought he heard a voice, a whisper. But a whisper or even a shout wouldn't carry across that distance, and he dismissed the words as nothing even as they repeated inside his head. <br /><br />Justice can be seen. <br /><br />The two were kissing as passionate a kiss as Cody had ever witnessed, despite the fact he couldn't really see their faces. The passion was in the way the man held his lover—tightly, all encompassing, and with unrestrained need. She was bowed back, offering her throat for his kisses, her slim arms wrapped around his neck. It was too much to be watching; it felt wrong. With a sigh, Cody dropped the drape and went back to bed. This time sleep wasn't far off, and he allowed it to pull him under so he could explore further in his dreams what he had just witnessed. <br /><br />The dream he wanted to have proved elusive. Instead, he dreamed of the usual hurt, fear, and pain that haunted his every sleeping and waking second, and a single sentence spun around his normal hurt. Justice can be seen. <br /><br />Six in the morning and he was more awake than ever. Decision made that he was starting the day now, he showered, pulled on clean clothes, and unlocked his bedroom door. He locked it again behind him and pocketed the brass key. Room cleaning had to be covered with Abigail because he really didn't want anyone in his room when he wasn't there. She was in the bar emptying the large industrial dishwasher and threw him a wide smile when she spotted his entrance. <br /><br />"Did you sleep well?" <br /><br />"Fine," Cody lied. No sense in troubling his host with his nocturnal wonderings and inability to get his body clock sorted this quickly. <br /><br />"Breakfast isn't for a while, but I can get you some fruit or a coffee?" <br /><br />"It's okay. I thought I might go out for a walk." He bit back the exasperation he felt that he was looking for her approval or even her permission. Idiot man. <br /><br />"Good idea. You're at the back, so for the manor, you need to turn left, and for the farm and the road, you turn right. The roads are quiet here, but you do get the odd boy racer deciding to use the village as a rally track so keep an ear out and stick to the verge." Cody zoned out for a minute; Abigail sounded so much like his mom it wasn't funny. <br /><br />"I will," he finally agreed, and remembered to add a smile. His mom liked it when he smiled, said he didn't do it often enough. In under a minute, he was out in the crisp early morning fall air, and without conscious decision, he turned left and towards the manor house. Images of what he had seen last night made him look to the field where the lovers had met, and he wondered who they were to be meeting in the dead of night. Not only that but he wondered about the horse. Who rode a horse at two in the morning on roads as tight and twisty as this with probably zero visibility other than that afforded by the full moon? He couldn't find the gap in the hedge the rider had used. Evidently his eyesight wasn't as good as he thought. He couldn't have seen the horse pass through a hedge. He sighed. He was seeing things in the freaking dark. <br /><br />Crossing the narrow road to the church, he leaned his hands on the wall to peer into the graveyard surrounding the old impressive building. The sign proclaimed it was the Church of Saint Cuthbert, and it was exactly as he expected a church to look in a quintessential English village. Constructed of solid stone, it had a tall square tower and imposing arched windows. Three large stained glass windows depicted a story that Cody couldn't exactly make out, and all were behind a wire mesh. The building was beautiful, even more so with the wispy autumn mist that hugged close to the ground and moved eerily in and around the ancient gravestones. <br /><br />The sign said, Services Every Three Weeks, and under it was the name of the vicar, Tristan Toulson-Brown. Cody snorted. That was one hell of a fancy British name if ever he'd seen one. There were contact numbers, but nothing about the history of the church or even how old it was. He pulled out his cell, but the signal was low so there was no hope of researching the church as he stood there. He resolved to use the Wi-Fi back at the inn to increase his knowledge of this village. Local knowledge always helped when selling property, or so his sister said. <br /><br />The entrance to the churchyard was closed but wasn't locked and opened easily. Testament, he imagined, to someone maintaining the large wrought iron gate. Peering closely at the first gravestones he came across, they showed dates as far back as the eighteen hundreds, but those farther back had worn so far down he couldn't make out dates. A cross under a tree intrigued him. It was a simple cross, heavily weathered, and nature had chosen to reclaim it with ivy and weeds climbing and crossing over the names and dates. He spent a while looking at it as he lost himself in thought. <br /><br />Trees as old as the gravestones stood tall and wide, and there were sycamores above the cross, dropping seeds that looked like wings. Flashes of his childhood interspersed with the absolute calm he felt inside in this place. There wasn't a church like this where he'd grown up or such a natural balance with the gravestones of people long ago dead. He wasn't even what people called religious in any way. He had beliefs, but they definitely aligned with nature, nurture, and a side order of fate, as opposed to some guiding hand. <br /><br />If he'd believed, would it have made him any less susceptible to Vince or able to better handle what had happened? He sighed at the maudlin turn of his thoughts and strode through the graveyard to the back of the church and the view of the fields beyond. There were more trees here, possibly even what could be called a copse, and he jumped the lower stone wall to check it all out. <br /><br />A rustling behind him caused him to turn sharply, and a familiar dizziness assailed him, causing him to grab at the nearest tree. Idiot. Startled by a squirrel or a badger or some other indigenous species at the age of twenty-six for god's sake. He peered into the thicker part of the standing trees wondering what it was that had moved and focused in on a huffing, scratching weird kind of noise. He saw a flash of something, then he had a face full of something black and large and wet. He stepped back, twisted his foot on a tree root, and toppled to the ground. <br /><br />"Jack! Stupid dog… Jack!" <br /><br />Cody pushed the animal away, his hands going straight to his face as teeth came near, and he struggled to get in control of what was happening. The ground was wet beneath him, the leaves scrunching and scratching at his skin, and the animal, fucking huge thing, was on him, pawing him. <br /><br />"Shit. I'm sorry. Jack, get the hell away—" The owner of the voice pulled the monster away from Cody, and as soon as he was free, Cody scrambled to move. Hands helped him stand, but Cody moved away as soon as he was vertical and steady. "I'm so sorry. Are you okay? Idiot dog is a bloody nuisance." <br /><br />Cody focused on the voice—clipped, British, and really damn apologetic. Still, it didn't stop the temper inside him. What kind of person owned a killer dog and allowed it to attack people? He even opened his mouth with the express purpose of telling this man exactly what he thought, but as he did so, he looked down at the dog and, with a double take, back up to the piercing blue eyes filled with apology that stared at him. The man with the killer dog was wearing a woolen hat, a huge thick coat, and jeans that probably used to be blue but now looked mud colored. <br /><br />"Your dog—" Cody started and glanced down at the muddy and very wet black Labrador that sat panting by the man's feet. The animal didn't look as scary now as it leaned into the man's leg and looked up at him with an adoring doggy grin. <br /><br />"I'm sorry. Genuinely sorry," the stranger continued. "We don't often find people walking this early in the fields. Are you okay?" <br /><br />Mentally, Cody checked himself out. Physically, he was winded but fine; mentally, he was as embarrassed as it was possible to be. He even remembered letting out some kind of freaking girly shriek when the dog had landed on him. Jeez. <br /><br />"I'm fine," Cody said and turned on his heel to return back to the relative safety of his room. <br /><br />"Sorry!" the guy called after him, but Cody simply lifted a hand and waved away the apology. <br /><br />"It's fine," he said firmly. With his embarrassment and his aching butt filling every part of his thoughts that weren't focused on sapphire eyes, he trudged back to The Ferrers' Arms. <br /><br /><br /><br />* * * * <br /><br /><br /><br />"What happened?" <br /><br />Damn. He really had hoped to slip past Abigail and, jeez, John as well now. <br /><br />"I had a run-in with a dog," he said grumpily. <br /><br />"Dalmatian, black Lab or Chihuahua?" Abigail asked carefully. <br /><br />Cody glanced down at the wet paw prints on his jacket and picked off a leaf caught in the pocket zipper. A Chihuahua would not have left paw prints that big, and suddenly, it was past embarrassing and annoying and had moved on to funny. For the first time in as long as he could remember, he had a genuine smile on his face, one that was emerged straight from inside him. <br /><br />"Black Lab," he answered. <br /><br />"Sebastian," Abigail informed him with an answering smile. <br /><br />"I think he was called Jack," Cody corrected. <br /><br />"No, Sebastian is Jack's owner. Seb lives in the manor house. One of the Toulson-Browns. Walks his dog over the fields every morning." <br /><br />Cody filed away the information and then wondered if Sebastian was a relation of the vicar, given the exact match of surnames. He didn't realize he had said it out loud until he heard Abigail reply. <br /><br />"Tristan is his brother." <br /><br />"Oh." Cody didn't have much more than that. He needed another shower and change of clothes, and when his stomach rumbled, he knew what else he needed. Breakfast. <br /><br />Then he really needed to do what he'd come here to do.</div>

The Gallows Tree

The Book Cody Garret is only just finding his way after an abusive relationship ended with his ex in prison. Coming to England to restore Mi...

+ Read more »

A new series... what do you think?

Remember Viktor in World's Collide? The love 'em and leave 'em SEAL from Joseph's team?<br /><br />Well I've been thinking... and here is a blurb... what do you think?<br /><br />A brand new series of three books:<br /><br /><b>Book 1: Untitled as yet</b><br /><br />When Viktor Holender left small town America for the Navy he made sure he never had a reason to return. He wanted to see the world and fight for his country and nothing, or no one, was getting in his way.<br /><br />But when his sister calls Viktor to tell him that his nephew is in hospital with a drug overdose he uses his thirty day down time to go home. What he finds is corruption that holds a town in fear and the only man attempting to break through that fear and do something about it. His childhood friend and first love... Samuel.<br /><br />There were reasons he left. Not least Samuel Coleman with his small town innocence and his dreams of forever. <br /><br /><br /><br />

A new series... what do you think?

Remember Viktor in World's Collide? The love 'em and leave 'em SEAL from Joseph's team? Well I've been thinking... and h...

+ Read more »

Friday Interview - E.J. Sutter

<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7xX95wkR9eaYoyqmU3RtBpXD8TKD9YZX8e-tg1MoBEDzB7zT6h0urm_q_rxhKdjBu8ku3_rH9Lh3MiuU13UPvArnNypfsz0IoUbbnDHgg9K-pHDec6NAL8eDUn7AjBquBN4dWn057Hg/s1600/abrewingstorm_thumbnail+a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7xX95wkR9eaYoyqmU3RtBpXD8TKD9YZX8e-tg1MoBEDzB7zT6h0urm_q_rxhKdjBu8ku3_rH9Lh3MiuU13UPvArnNypfsz0IoUbbnDHgg9K-pHDec6NAL8eDUn7AjBquBN4dWn057Hg/s1600/abrewingstorm_thumbnail+a.jpg" /></a></div><b>Tetley's or PG Tips?</b><br />PG Tips every time. Or Wine.<br /><br /><b>How do you keep everything straight? Especially when you have characters from different books fighting for attention.</b><br />Scrivener works for me. When an idea shouts at you for another book, you can create index cards, note down the ideas, and then file them in each story folder. You can then go back to the original story you were working on. You can even jump about in that story, if an idea for a great scene pops into your head and you can’t wait to jot it down.<br /><br /><b>How do you feel when it comes time to end the story? Sad? Happy? Relieved?</b><br />All three generally. The ending of a story is difficult. I’m never sure if the ending is the one I originally had in mind, because the characters tend to wander off the track somewhat.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">*****</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /><a name="more"></a><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>Blurb</b></div><br /><i>The Shadow Worlds are dying. Can two sworn enemies manage to get past their differences and ignore their burning attraction to each other long enough to save them?</i><br /><i><br /></i>Brandon is a Weaver, a member of an old, powerful race. His discovery that Master Weavers are disappearing, presumed murdered, is a shock. Even more so when he realises that the person responsible is not actually a person at all, but a Revenant, and worse, the creature also known as the Abomination.<br /><br />Things are not quite how they seem, however.<br /><br />Jaime is a Revenant, a creature born from death and designed to do his Master's bidding. He's been living in the shadows for years. Now, the Shadow Worlds are dying, Weavers are disappearing, and Jamie is no longer the only Revenant to survive their Master.<br /><br />Can these two men ignore the hatred, and the passion, that burns between them, and work together to find out just what is happening to the Universe around them?<br /><br />They must uncover age old secrets of the Weavers, and defeat enemies who are closer to them than they'd realised.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">*****</div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><b>Excerpt</b><br /><b><br /></b>It was only when Jamie was twenty minutes late that Brandon began to worry that where they ended up might not be a problem, because Jamie just wasn’t going to show. Damn! He’d been so sure Jamie had been pulled under by the same tide of lust that had flowed through him that he hadn’t even considered that Jamie wouldn’t show tonight, especially as Brandon had sent them both home with unsatisfied desire fizzing through their bodies. He’d figured that Jamie would at least show tonight in the hope of getting laid. Brandon decided to give him ten more minutes’ grace.<br /><br />He breathed a sigh of relief when he eventually spotted Jamie walking through the entrance of the bar, his tinted glasses firmly in place and a strange expression of something that looked almost like resignation on his face. Brandon saw him glance over at the bar, his head turning slightly as he swept his gaze along its length, spotting Brandon almost immediately. Brandon smiled at him and half raised his hand in greeting, letting it fall when no answering smile touched Jamie’s lips. Instead he squared his shoulders, almost as though he was preparing for a fight, and headed over to where Brandon sat.<br /><br />Brandon determinedly kept a smile of welcome on his face as Jamie sat down next to him. “Buy you a drink, cowboy?” he asked. Jamie looked at him briefly and shrugged. <br /><br />“Sure,” he said. “Why not?”<br /><br />Brandon frowned. “Is there something wrong, Jamie?” he asked, trying to sound no more than a little concerned. “Bad day?”<br /><br />Jamie laughed, but there was a bitter edge to it. “Jamie? What’s wrong?”<br /><br />“Not so much a bad day as a bad fuckin’ century, man,” Jamie told him, a bone deep<br /><br />weariness edging his words. ”Don’t mind me, I’ll get over it.” <br /><br />“You wanna maybe grab some dinner? Maybe go somewhere we could actually eat<br /><br />without having to call in the Health Department?” The bartender obviously heard Brandon’s words, because he muttered something under his breath and glared at the two of them.<br /><br />“Sure, why not?” Jamie replied without much enthusiasm, not even noticing the bartender.<br /><br />“Once more with feeling, maybe?” Brandon asked wryly. That seemed to jolt Jamie out of his funk a little, and he looked at Brandon, an apologetic expression on his face. Brandon held up his hand to forestall whatever Jamie was about to say. “Let’s get outta here, go somewhere we can sit and eat and talk a little, then you can tell me all about what’s bothering you.”<br /><br />“You turn into Dear Abby or somethin’?” Jamie asked, with the closest thing to a smile Brandon had seen on his face since he’d arrived at the bar.<br /><br />“Or somethin’.” Brandon smiled just wide enough to let his dimples show a little, gratified when Jamie blinked in bewilderment. “C’mon, let’s go. I know just the place.” Brandon got up off his stool and dropped some money on the bar to pay for his beer.<br /><br />“You would. I have a feeling you know most of the places.” But he got up off his seat and followed Brandon out of the bar and into the sunshine and haze of an early LA summer evening.<br /><br />The steak house Brandon had chosen was quiet and intimate, and Jamie tried to throw off his bad mood. He’d deliberated for a long time before deciding to keep his date with Brandon. After all, it was one more date then he wouldn’t ever see the guy again. The meeting with the Stepfords still preyed on his mind, Mia’s words still echoing in his ears. He really shouldn’t care, but, for some reason, he’d been feeling strange all afternoon. He nearly hadn’t come to meet Brandon, thinking he’d be better off, that they’d both be better off, if Jamie just disappeared. The problem was that he couldn’t forget the attraction that had lain between them, couldn’t get Brandon’s face out of his mind, and so he’d decided once again to throw caution to the winds and meet him for a final time. With any luck, he might get laid tonight, and that might ease some of the tension he was feeling.<br /><br />He’d arrived at the Round House an hour before he was supposed to meet Brandon, and had grabbed a beer, lurking behind a pillar way in the back of the bar, towards the bathrooms. He’d seen Brandon come in, and seen him scanning the bar. Jamie had presumed Brandon was searching for him, but hadn’t come forward. Brandon might be a trap and not even know it. Jamie wasn’t coming forward until he was happy that there were no Weavers<br /><br />or any other Revenants about. He’d spent three-quarters of an hour with his senses carefully extended in a net around the bar, but he hadn’t been able to sense anything suspicious.<br /><br />He’d finally made his way outside, easily snapping open the rusted lock on the employees’ entrance, and had headed back into the bar through the front door, looking around as though he was searching for Brandon. He hadn’t bothered to apologise for being late, and was determined to be as remote and unfriendly as possible, trying to see if he could put him off, or if Brandon’s attraction to him was just as strong as Jamie’s to him. Or maybe he was just intent on taking his bad mood out on him.<br /><br />It appeared that the attraction had worked both ways, though, and when the waitress sat them in the small booth at the steak house, Brandon made no effort to pull himself back out of Jamie’s personal space. Instead he seemed to take pleasure in sliding one leg between Jamie’s, his knee resting high between Jamie’s thighs. Jamie tried to make himself as small as possible, but he couldn’t escape Brandon’s long arms stretching across the table, and the fact that his foot was trapped between the table leg and one of Brandon’s feet. Jamie was beginning to feel suffocated, the scent of arousal was so overwhelming. He took a deep breath and swallowed the feeling back down, focusing on the menu while he tried to get himself under control.<br /><br />He was so distracted that he didn’t remember to order his half portions, and ended up with a huge plate of steak, fries, mushrooms and a salad. He looked at it in dismay, prompting Brandon to ask if there was anything wrong. Jamie glanced at him, shaking his head slowly. “No, everything’s fine, it’s just I don’t have a huge appetite.”<br /><br />Brandon laughed, a mile-wide grin splitting his face, “That’s fine, Jamie,” he said. “Believe me, I could out-eat a football team, so there won’t be any leftovers.”<br /><br />Jamie looked up at him in amazement. “Your steak’s already twice as big as mine anyway. You’re gonna eat that, and finish mine off?”<br /><br />Brandon nodded, humming in agreement, and still grinning. “Swear to God,” and he laid his hand on his heart, his face switching to solemnity for a split second.<br /><br />Jamie laughed, his smile coming free and easy for the first time that evening. “Bet you can’t,” he challenged. Brandon’s grin grew sly, an edge of heat touching it.<br /><br />“And if I win?” he asked, his voice dropping a few octaves. Jamie gave a slight shudder, something he hoped Brandon hadn’t noticed.<br /><br />“I have no idea,” he admitted. Judging from the look in his eyes, Brandon hadn’t missed a thing.<br /><br />“Maybe I should get to choose the forfeit?” Brandon mused. “Something...appropriate.” Jamie felt the ball of heat in his belly squirm, and just like that, the temperature around the table rose twenty degrees.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">*****</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><b>Buy links</b><br />Total-Bound: <a href="http://www.total-e-bound.com/product.asp?strParents=&CAT_ID=&P_ID=2161">http://www.total-e-bound.com/product.asp?strParents=&CAT_ID=&P_ID=2161</a><br />Are: <a href="https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-abrewingstorm-1223861-340.html">https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-abrewingstorm-1223861-340.html</a><br />Barnes & Noble: <a href="http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/a-brewing-storm-e-j-sutter/1115700285?ean=9781781843505">http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/a-brewing-storm-e-j-sutter/1115700285?ean=9781781843505</a><br />Amazon.co.uk: <a href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/Brewing-Storm-Fall-Weavers-ebook/dp/B00DJ9GXTQ/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1374585303&sr=8-1&keywords=A+brewing+storm">http://www.amazon.co.uk/Brewing-Storm-Fall-Weavers-ebook/dp/B00DJ9GXTQ/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1374585303&sr=8-1&keywords=A+brewing+storm</a><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">*****</div><br /><br /></div>

Friday Interview - E.J. Sutter

Tetley's or PG Tips? PG Tips every time. Or Wine. How do you keep everything straight? Especially when you have characters from differen...

+ Read more »

Shattered Secrets (In The Shadow of the Wolf #1)

<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3U2HYFJl9xCtX2oeh6ZM5fxomDgAgDmezUhd6CGn4TA-dFFhFQYMNI6Ni7IUp9MDe8GfzK-P2ax8ugfbF-NNE13i63F3frGP8fQrZqeWacZULZf8w1go1-rG0HgTagDq00i43kOWU_A/s1600/Shattered+Secrets+400x600.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3U2HYFJl9xCtX2oeh6ZM5fxomDgAgDmezUhd6CGn4TA-dFFhFQYMNI6Ni7IUp9MDe8GfzK-P2ax8ugfbF-NNE13i63F3frGP8fQrZqeWacZULZf8w1go1-rG0HgTagDq00i43kOWU_A/s640/Shattered+Secrets+400x600.jpg" width="426" /></a></div><span style="font-size: large;"><strong>In the Shadow of the Wolf Series</strong></span><br /><i>Written with Diane Adams</i><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><strong></strong> </div><div style="text-align: left;">Book 1 - Shattered Secrets</div><div style="text-align: left;">Book 2 - <a href="http://rjscottauthor.blogspot.co.uk/2011/10/broken-memories-in-shadow-of-wolf-2.html">Broken Memories</a></div><div style="text-align: left;">Book 3 - <a href="http://rjscottauthor.blogspot.co.uk/2011/11/whats-next-from-diane-adams-and-rj.html">Splintered Lies</a></div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="font-size: large;">The Book</span></b></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Jamie is human, and he's also a wolf. Werewolves aren't just some supernatural fairy tale. They are a living, breathing part of society. Once they hid their true natures, but now they are out and proud, an accepted part of society, but even with all the new laws, it's not easy. Adding a new species to the eclectic mix of American society opens up a whole different world</div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPY9vd5bUqaW9zBx9AqgwRXFhw0rXW53B5SaBYmhfnP9RtZi3_ZaojFIRNpXrdUHDuSwywx0OnkSVMjCegQ0jvlhnZzpeuhG93G50UE9fpYJHqDtBvpBrgyn0OJFnpHrTquVBZE3PIEUs/s1600/64246_434678613281893_1653726542_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPY9vd5bUqaW9zBx9AqgwRXFhw0rXW53B5SaBYmhfnP9RtZi3_ZaojFIRNpXrdUHDuSwywx0OnkSVMjCegQ0jvlhnZzpeuhG93G50UE9fpYJHqDtBvpBrgyn0OJFnpHrTquVBZE3PIEUs/s1600/64246_434678613281893_1653726542_n.jpg" /></a>Rob Tarrant is a cop and has just passed his thirtieth birthday. He’s been promoted to a special police task force specializing in wolf / human cases. He sees it all—the seedy underbelly of city life, the fights, the murders, and the parts of human / wolf interaction that people would rather ignore. He has no problem with wolves in general, but human/wolf relationships are not on his to-do list. When he meets a young man named Jamie at a club, he embarks on the hottest one-night stand of his life. He finds out that young man is a wolf shifter, and his world is turned upside down.<br /><br />When a case involving kidnappings of young werewolves lands on Rob's desk, the ugly specter of the werewolf sex trade is brought front and center. With Jamie seemingly at the heart of it all, can Rob keep his young lover alive?<br /><br /><span style="font-size: large;"><b></b></span><br /><span style="font-size: large;"><b>Buy Links - eBook</b></span><br /><br /><a href="https://www.lovelanebooks.co.uk/index.php?main_page=product_info&cPath=21&products_id=43" target="_blank">Love Lane Books</a> | <a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B00DJXSVNS/ref=as_li_ss_tl?ie=UTF8&camp=1789&creative=390957&creativeASIN=B00DJXSVNS&linkCode=as2&tag=rjsc-20" target="_blank">Amazon (US)</a> | <a href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B00DJXSVNS/ref=as_li_ss_tl?ie=UTF8&camp=1634&creative=19450&creativeASIN=B00DJXSVNS&linkCode=as2&tag=rjsc-21" target="_blank">Amazon (UK)</a> | <a href="https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-shatteredsecrets-1224905-140.html" target="_blank">All Romance</a> | <a href="http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/shattered-secrets-rj-scott/1115864788?ean=2940044607453" target="_blank">Barnes & Noble</a> | <a href="http://store.kobobooks.com/en-US/Books/shattered-secrets-1" target="_blank">Kobo</a> | <a href="https://ebookstore.sony.com/ebook/rj-scott/shattered-secrets/_/R-400000000000001077062" target="_blank">Sony</a> | <a href="https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/328822" target="_blank">Smashwords</a><br /><br /><br /><b><span style="font-size: large;">Reviews</span></b><br /><br /><a href="http://mmgoodbookreviews.wordpress.com/2011/09/06/shattered-secrets-by-diane-adams-and-rj-scott/"><b>MM Good Book Reviews 4/5</b></a> - I thought the way that Rob handled everything was masterful, Jamie was headstrong and willful the supporting characters were incredible, too. They really added to the story. The story line is fantastic and written really well. Hopefully, this is opening up a new avenue in shifter stories where we have more realistic story lines and a different aspect to the ‘mating’ rules. If you love shifter stories, hot men and crime stories then this is for you. Diane Adams & R.J. Scott, I can’t wait for the next one.<br /><br /><br /><a href="http://mmgoodbookreviews.wordpress.com/2011/09/06/shattered-secrets-by-diane-adams-and-rj-scott/"><b>MM Good Book Reviews</b> </a> For those of you thinking about writing a paranormal series, Shattered Secrets would be an excellent case study. Scott and Adams took a lot of time world building, without distracting the reader away from the main plot. The characters are wonderfully developed. I especially like the evolution of Rob. The attraction between Rob and Jamie is instant, but the love match takes a lot longer to develop.<br /><br /><b><a href="http://www.darkdivasreviews.com/?p=6527">Dark Divas Reviews</a> </b>- 4 Delighful Divas from Dark Diva Reviews... "Rob and Jamie are sexy, hot, and you want them to push through all the ugliness to reach their happily ever after. I look forward to reading more of the intriguing world... introduced us to in Shattered Secrets."<br /><br /><a href="http://www.nightowlerotica.com/nor/Reviews/Sandra-reviews-Shattered-Secrets-by-Diane-Adams-and-RJ-Scott.aspx"><b>A Night Owl Reviews Book Review</b></a> - Shattered Secrets was pretty well written. I enjoy it a lot and will gladly recommend it to those who like Shapeshifter romances with redemption, love and forgiveness. The rescue and danger ramped up the story and made it a good read.<br /><br /><b><span style="font-size: large;">Excerpts</span></b><br /><br /><b>Chapter 1</b><br /><br /><br />The music was loud, and the lighting was bad. Silver Moon was a typical dance club, filled with too many sweaty bodies, too much loud talk, and too many people desperate for a connection. Despite the crowd, Jamie Adamson drew attention as soon as he walked in the door. He ignored it; he knew how he looked and how to use it. Unfortunately for the masses, he was there for something—someone—specific. Jamie scanned the crowd, particularly the area around the bar. That’s where Jamie had met the guy he’d hooked up with the week before; Rob was a cop. Jamie knew it. A cop wasn’t his first choice for go-to sex, but damn the guy could fuck. Good enough for an encore, despite all the problems.<br /><br />Jamie wound through the crowd, avoiding groping hands with a charming smile and a wave at the bar. His intentions were to grab a Coke and cruise the rest of the place. Maybe he’d get lucky and Rob would turn up. Smirking, Jamie glanced out at the writhing bodies on the dance floor. He was probably going to get lucky whether Rob showed or not. Conversation ebbed and flowed around him, much of it about shifters and most of it negative. Not a surprise considering that, despite its name, the Silver Moon was a pure club, meaning no wolves. Well, officially anyone could come to the club because it was against the law to have a rule excluding wolves, but it was common knowledge the Silver Moon was where the lupophobic crowd hung out. Jamie paid no attention to the comments. There wasn’t a guy in that club he couldn’t take, even if they ganged up on him five to one.<br /><br />His normal hangout was Larry’s, a bar that was wolf friendly. It was closer to the apartment he shared with some friends, but the week before, he’d let Doug convince him to tag along and visit a pure bar. Doug was Jamie’s best friend but that didn’t stop him from being twisted. It turned Doug on to screw guys who didn’t know he was wolf. The more they hated shifters the better Doug liked it. Thinking about his crazy friend, Jamie laughed. A lot of shifters felt that way and it was an easy payback for a lot of the bigoted shit that was shouted at them by prejudiced assholes.<br /><br />Jamie could smell the other wolves in the club mingling without fear of discovery. When a shifter was human, he was human. Hanging out undiscovered with pures wasn’t really passing, though that’s what the ’phobes called it. Sure Jamie was stronger and faster and never had to go to a gym to maintain his perfect abs, but he was all man when he walked on two legs. Jamie hadn’t set out to fool Rob. There’d been dancing and, fuck all, Rob. Jamie couldn’t think straight once he got the man’s scent. Standing next to Rob made Jamie dizzy, and the sex was why Jamie was back in among the pures looking and hoping for one more hookup.<br /><br />Jamie scented the air. Maybe he’d get lucky and locate Rob’s scent mixed with all the other crap floating in the air, though it didn’t seem likely. He caught the scent of something, but it wasn’t Rob. Panicked, Jamie searched the crowd to find the source of what he smelled, but the throng was too thick and the scent dissipated almost as soon as he caught it. Scenting emotion wasn’t exact, especially not in his human form. He rarely depended on scent for much as a man, but that smell was recognizable—the panic, fear, and desperation of a broken wolf. A wolf was hurt. Female. Jamie scanned the crowd again. It was a pure club, not a gay one, so there were a lot of women, and doubtless some of them were she-wolves who had slipped in for the thrill. He scented again, but this time there was nothing. Maybe he had just imagined it? His body was still reacting and he inhaled deeply to attempt calm.<br /><br />Jamie felt a tingle in the back of his neck, an itch in his fingers. Shift, find, protect. It was an instinctive need to protect the weaker, not just wolves, but anything. Jamie forced back the urge to take to all fours. Sweat broke out on his forehead. He couldn’t always control the shift because he was young, but if he shifted in the middle of this club, he might not make it out alive. He staggered backwards off balance, and a strong arm slid around his waist.<br /><br />“Easy.” A single breath in his ear and Jamie’s heart skipped about ten beats before it started racing. Feeling a hard body at his back and the scent suddenly surrounding him made Jamie dizzy, and every blood cell in his body raced for his groin. Rob. Jamie’s mind supplied a slideshow of images from their last encounter that raised his blood pressure to dangerous levels. Without stepping away, Jamie turned into the embrace. Rob moved his hand to rest on the small of Jamie’s back, fingertips slipping under the waistband of Jamie’s jeans. Their eyes met, and Jamie made no effort to control the hungry way his tongue licked out to wet his lips.<br /><br />Rob was just as he remembered. Hair so dark that Jamie expected it to shine blue under the light was cut short, though it waved a bit on top and was long enough there for Jamie to tangle his fingers in it. Rob’s strong jaw was permanently shadowed, giving him a wild, dangerous look despite the button-down white shirt he wore paired with dark dress pants. His tie hung loose and the first buttons of his shirt were open, giving a tantalizing glimpse of the bronzed skin beneath. Jamie knew that under the shirt a tattoo of an eagle sat on Rob’s shoulder and that every inch of this man’s skin tasted like heaven. Everything was exactly how Jamie remembered it, including how lightheaded with lust he got just standing beside the guy.<br /><br />Apparently Rob felt the same. He shifted subtly, just enough that it brought their groins together. Pressed cock to cock revealed that Rob was hard too, and Jamie’s breath caught. Staring into Rob’s dark eyes, he was unable to find his voice. Rob’s pupils were dilated, reducing the irises to little more than dark gray borders around them. The fingers against Jamie’s back pressed harder, urging Jamie to take another small step forward. Their lips brushed, and Jamie’s fingers twitched. He had a vision of climbing Rob to wrap his legs around Rob’s narrow waist while devouring that full-lipped mouth with his own.<br /><br />Straight pure bar, Jamie thought, admonishing himself, trying to keep a grip on reality, however slight. The majority of pures were homophobes. Jamie assumed it went with the mindset. Molesting his really hot cop in the middle of this crowd was a bad idea. Rob’s hand found his and he tangled their fingers together, reminding Jamie that as hard as Rob looked, he was unexpectedly tender, a real touchy-feely kinda guy. It disconcerted Jamie at first, the actions so at odds with Rob’s rugged police detective appearance, but he grew to appreciate it before their first night had ended. Now, in the midst of this crowd where Jamie didn’t really belong, the unexpected feel of a hand in his was comforting.<br /><br />“Dance with me.” Rob’s voice in his ear brooked no argument, but Jamie held back, wide-eyed, for the same reason he hadn’t gone for the kiss moments before. He wasn’t shy, but neither was he suicidal. Rob chuckled at his expression and took his Coke. Tugging Jamie behind him, he deposited the glass on one of the tables they passed. Unable to resist, Jamie let Rob lead him through the twisting mass of bodies on the dance floor, working towards the center. Jamie realized there were a few same-sex couples already on the floor and began to relax. When Rob turned to face him, they were surrounded on all sides by people with no interest in anything but the music. Jamie doubted they could be seen by anyone more than a few feet from them. Jamie made no protest when a strong arm snaked around his waist once more, bringing their bodies together, hard muscle to hard muscle.<br /><br />Jamie remembered clearly what Rob’s body was like under those clothes—lean, muscled, and his skin a burnished gold against Jamie’s own fair skin. Jamie had never seen anyone but other wolves so leanly muscled. He thought pure humans tended towards bulk when they worked out. He’d learned the dangers of stereotyping, as well as the difference between muscle building and strength training, under the strong movement of Rob’s body over and inside his the previous weekend. The memory caused sweat to break out on his upper lip. Jamie closed his eyes and let the rhythm of the music seep into him from the soles of his feet upward. He moved, bringing their hips together. Nuzzling behind Rob’s ear, Jamie let the other man’s scent fill his senses. Rob smelled good, his crisp aftershave some citrusy, woodsy stuff that probably sold for way too much money at a better department store. Under that was the scent of his skin and the steadily increasing aroma of his arousal.<br /><br />Their groins rubbed, their arms wrapped around one another’s waists. Rob’s big hands cupped Jamie’s ass, pulling him in closer. Jamie clutched handfuls of Rob shirt and couldn’t repress the urge to nip the skin of his neck. Rob groaned and his hand was in Jamie’s hair, pulling his head back. Their mouths locked, tangled tongues sliding together in the wet heat. A high-pitched whine of need escaped Jamie, and he clutched Rob tighter, humping against him. Rob pulled back, his hand still fisted in Jamie’s hair, his eyes blurred and heavy lidded with lust.<br /><br />“We have to go.”<br /><br />Jamie didn’t protest. He held tight to the back of Rob’s shirt with one hand and to Rob’s hand with the other and followed close as Rob blazed a trail through the crowd that led directly to the front door.<br /><br />They made it to Rob’s apartment, clothes askew, zippers down, barely on the legal side of indecent exposure. Rob fumbled with his keys, and Jamie pressed close behind him, hands down the front of Rob’s pants.<br /><br />“Hurry or I’m fucking you out here.” Jamie rubbed the length of his cock against Rob’s ass. Rob dropped the keys in an instant.<br /><br />“Fuck.”<br /><br />“Oh yeah, baby, bend over.” Wrapping his hand around Rob’s leaking shaft, Jamie rutted hard against his upturned ass.<br /><br />Rob got the key in the lock and the door open. He hauled Jamie inside, slamming the door shut and backing Jamie up against it. Jamie allowed himself to be crowded against the hard surface for a few minutes, relishing the feel of Rob’s body against his, the burn of Rob’s stubble on his skin. They tore at each other’s clothes, buttons flew and material ripped.<br /><br />“God yes,” Rob breathed when he had Jamie’s naked chest under his hands, but when he wedged his leg between Jamie’s hard thighs, Jamie laughed low in his throat.<br /><br />“Not this time.” With a show of dexterity and strength that took Rob by surprise, Jamie switched their positions. Despite his slightly smaller stature, he manhandled Rob back until his back was pressed against the door, his ass pinned there by the pressure of Jamie’s hips. Their eyes met, Rob’s expression surprised but smoldering. “Okay?” Jamie paused long enough to be sure this was something Rob would want. A lot of alpha types couldn’t or wouldn’t roll over and take it, but Rob was different enough that Jamie had hopes he was versatile. Rob’s lips quirked up at the corner.<br /><br />“Okay.”<br /><br />Jamie’s mouth took Rob’s, the kiss hard and demanding with a touch of aggression. Rob’s pants slid off his hips and to the floor with little urging on Jamie’s part. Rob toed off his shoes and kicked his pants away. Jamie was momentarily at a loss; his brain froze, trying to decide what he wanted to do most—touch, look or lick. He was so hot he was in danger of coming with the least provocation, like the way Rob kept rubbing their cocks together. Rob held them both in one big-handed grasp, and Jamie groaned. He leaned his forehead on Rob’s shoulder.<br /><br />“I’ll come.” He didn’t have the willpower to reach down and stop the steady pull of Rob’s hand on their cocks. His throbbed and leaked; Rob used the pre-cum to ease the movement of his hand. Jamie gasped and thrust. “Stop.”<br /><br />Rob fisted a hand in Jamie’s hair and hauled him up for another kiss. “Come for me, Jamie. You’re a kid, probably won’t even get soft.” Rob growled. Growled. Jamie wondered exactly who was the wolf. The thought didn’t distract him for long, because Rob had one thing right. Jamie wanted to fuck him so bad he doubted his cock would go soft before that happened no matter how many times he got off. He thrust harder into Rob’s tight grip. Heat curled at the base of his spine, and his balls pulled up tight against the base of his cock. Jamie grunted and pumped his hips. He shouted when he came, hot and wet between them, coating Rob’s hand and their bellies. They held onto each other panting, Rob’s hand still on their cocks.<br /><br />“You,” Jamie prompted, grinding against Rob.<br /><br />“Not yet, I’m not a kid. Come on.” He led Jamie down the hall toward the bedroom. They finished stripping on the way and were naked by the time they arrived. They crawled into bed together and lay there admiring one another. Rob’s eyes flickered over Jamie, from his spiked blond hair to his feet, lingering on his hard cock. Rob smirked. “Told you.” The gleam in his eyes proved he relished his victory at being right about the state of Jamie’s cock. Rob reached for Jamie and pulled him close. Their bodies fit together just as well as they had the first time.<br /><br />“Why would I get soft now? I’ve been hard all week thinking about you.” Jamie traced his fingers up Rob’s back, reading the braille of his spine. Rob grunted as he mouthed Jamie’s jaw and nipped his earlobe.<br /><br />“You too? I haven’t jacked off so much since I was… well, twenty.” Rob laughed, his breath hot against Jamie’s neck. Jamie shuddered.<br /><br />“My cock should be sore and exhausted, but all it wants is to fuck you.” Jamie mapped a trail of exploration down Rob’s spine to the swell of his ass. Rob’s breath hitched, and he rocked his hips forward. Jamie’s heart pounded, and the hope he’d get what he wanted notched upward. Jamie captured Rob’s bottom lip between his teeth and tugged, sucking it briefly, then he pulled back to meet Rob’s eyes. “You’ve got a hot ass. Will you share?” Jamie’s eyes sparkled with mischief, but he was only half teasing. The hand resting on Rob’s butt moved in caressing circles. He’d obsessed over that ass all week. He was determined to have it, but if he didn’t get it tonight, there were plenty of nights ahead.<br /><br />Jamie wasn’t one to get emotionally hung up on anyone. Guys were guys, and they came and went. He had a vague idea that Mr. Right was out there somewhere, but Jamie figured he had plenty of time to play around before he got to the serious stuff. He didn’t dwell on his minor epiphany that he might want more than a couple of one-night stands with Rob. The sex was hot and the chances good that Rob wouldn’t object to hooking up a few more times. Jamie had no delusions beyond those thoughts.<br /><br />“You think you’re man enough to handle my ass?” Rob’s words pulled him back into the moment. The challenge in Rob’s eyes aroused him, and Jamie growled, a low rumbling that vibrated his chest. Rob’s eyes widened a little at the noise, but Jamie was already pressing him onto his back, crawling on top of him to claim the dominant position, his mouth locked on the soft skin under Rob’s chin, sucking and biting, marking him. Jamie held Rob’s hands pinned to the bed beside his head and straddled his hips. Rob pulled at his arms, obviously testing Jamie’s strength but making no real effort to get away. He lifted his hips, and their erections knocked together.<br /><br />Jamie licked his lips. “Try me.”<br /><br />Rob stared up at him for a long moment, his gaze obviously weighing the sort of man he judged Jamie to be—smaller, younger. Jamie wasn’t sure if Rob would really give in and let him dominate, or if he was just playing around. Jamie wasn’t sure he could let Rob take it back. The idea of struggling for top with Rob made him sweat. Jamie swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. He was a wolf and in his prime, but Rob was strong and trained. There was no assurance that Jamie could take him. Just when he thought the fight was on, Rob relaxed. His body turned pliant and inviting, and he stopped struggling against Jamie’s hold. He wet his lips, narrowing his eyes seductively.<br /><br />“Show me.”<br /><br />The sudden reversal of roles made Jamie dizzy. He stared at Rob uncomprehending for a few seconds, and then Rob moved under him, their cocks brushed, and all bets were off. Jamie let go of Rob’s hands to cup his face and leaned forward to bring their mouths together in a searing kiss. Instead of battling him, Rob’s tongue slid and intertwined with Jamie’s like a silken caress. Rob clung to his arms, rocking his hips and rubbing their cocks together. Jamie whimpered. Rob purred.<br /><br />“Turn over.” Jamie had some vague plan of teasing Rob, of tasting every inch of that hard, dark body before giving in and fucking him into the mattress, but somehow they’d gone straight to the main event. Jamie couldn’t wait, not even long enough to get a taste of that perfect cock, but he wasn’t giving up all of his fantasies, and kneeling there as Rob rolled slowly onto his stomach, Jamie’s most fevered imagining came true.<br /><br />Jamie slid back to straddle Rob’s knees instead of his hips. “Lift up.” Rob obeyed the whispered command immediately, pulling his knees under him and folding his arms under his head. Ass up and legs spread, Jamie couldn’t look away from the perfect curve of his lover’s spine, all the way to the soft skin at the base of his neck brushed by the soft black hair. An eagle tattoo spread over his right shoulder blade. Jamie didn’t know what it meant—if anything at all—though it was another indication of what appeared to be Rob’s Native American heritage. Just like the high cheekbones, bronze skin, and blue-black hair. The tattoo was attractive, strangely erotic for a tattoo of an animal. The wolf and eagle. For some reason the idea appealed to Jamie, and a shiver ran down his spine.<br /><br />Clearing his throat, Rob wiggled his ass. Jamie blushed, wondering how long he’d been staring. “So beautiful.” He ran the palm of his hand up Rob’s spine, following it with his tongue. He traced the bones slowly, learning the taste, feel, and shape of the man under him. Jamie nuzzled the back of Rob’s neck, his thumb rubbed the eagle tattoo, and his cock pressed against the inviting curve of Rob’s tight ass. When Rob shifted, moving away slightly, Jamie yelped in protest, grabbing his hips to hold him still, but Rob wasn’t trying to get away. A moment later lube and condoms landed on the bed next to Jamie’s leg.<br /><br />Jamie stared at them blankly before shaking his head to clear it and grabbing a condom. He’d almost forgotten. Wolves didn’t use condoms; they couldn’t contract or transmit STDs. A benefit to having a wolf lover was barebacking. Jamie never had a partner who didn’t take advantage of it. He’d never even had a condom on his cock, and wearing one now was not part of his fantasy, but he had the feeling if he confessed, there wouldn’t be a ride at all. Continuing to deceive Rob nagged Jamie’s conscience, but the call of his cock was louder. He tore open the condom and rolled it on, frowning. Damn stupid prejudices, but when he pressed his lubed fingers inside Rob, Jamie forgot all about them. In fact, he forgot everything but the feel of the man under him. Rob keened, pressing back onto the invading fingers; Jamie pressed deep and added another. He leaned over Rob, his breathing uneven, watching his fingers move into his lover. Sweat beaded Jamie’s forehead. God, Rob was gorgeous. Responsive.<br /><br /><br /><br />* * * * *<br /><br /><br /><br />“Jamie.” Rob gasped, palming his cock, rolling it against his belly. He was close. His cock throbbed under his hand, and his balls were hard, aching knots pulled up against the base. Rob wanted to come, but not before Jamie was inside. It wasn’t that he was a stickler for order, but tonight he wanted to get fucked while on the razor’s edge of arousal. He wanted… Jamie’s fingers were replaced by the pressure of his cock. Rob mewled, burying his face in his arms, and just that fast, he was on the edge. Wrapping his hand tightly around the base of his cock, Rob held off his impending climax. Sweat slicked his body, his ass burned, and he quivered under Jamie’s touch. Jamie set a steady rhythm of long, slow movements, his balls slapping against Rob’s skin as he pushed inside. Jamie’s fingers dug into Rob’s hips. Fuck, there’d be more marks. Rob thought blurrily he should care, but couldn’t find the energy. “Harder, faster; damn it, Jamie, fuck me.”<br /><br />Rob’s demand seemed to fan Jamie’s lust higher. He leaned over Rob and gave him what he asked for, his body slamming forward harder and faster with each thrust, until the sound of their skin slapping together was almost a continuous sound. Rob sobbed and begged into the pillow, driving Jamie on. Jamie reached under Rob and slapped his hand away from his cock. Jamie wrapped it in his hand. He squeezed hard, jerked once, and Rob climaxed. Ropes of cum spurted out with every pulse of his cock, thick strands that filled the air with the scent of his musk.<br /><br /><br /><br />* * * * *<br /><br /><br /><br />Jamie breathed deeply, and the scent of arousal, of completion, escalated his arousal to the point of no return. He was still easing Rob down when he went over the edge. Jamie slammed forward hard, burying his cock in Rob’s ass, arching backward, his body convulsing with the force of his release. When it finally ended, Jamie curled over Rob protectively, petting him, calming him, easing him, urging him away from the wet sheets to the dry side of the bed. Jamie finally uncoupled them, tying off the condom and dropping it off the side of the bed.<br /><br />Rob resisted being the small spoon, readjusting them so he was curved behind Jamie, wrapping him in a loose embrace and pressing his face behind his ear. Jamie lay still, letting his heartbeat slow to normal. He was exhausted. It was nice to know he didn’t have to move. Rob had him stay last time and apparently wasn’t going to chase him away this time either. Jamie relaxed against Rob, and he felt safe. Silly, since he never felt threatened, but it was nice.<br /><br />“Did I pass the top test?” Jamie teased, breaking the silence.<br /><br />Rob’s arm tightened around him. “What do you think?”<br /><br />“I could try again.” Jamie rubbed his ass against Rob, teasing. He had no interest in a second round yet; he couldn’t believe how Rob had taken it out of him.<br /><br />“Mmm.” Rob’s answer was noncommittal, but his cock stirred against Jamie.<br /><br />Warm and sated, Jamie drifted on the edge of sleep. The twitch of Rob’s cock curled his lips, but he didn’t open his eyes. He reached back and ran a hand along Rob’s flank, and his cock twitched between them again. “Damn, not many guys can out-fuck a wolf.”<br /><br />Shit, what did I just say?<br /><br />Part of him hoped Rob hadn’t heard the words, but when the body behind him stiffened and pulled back, he knew Rob had heard every syllable. The room temperature was comfortable, but the sudden space and air against his back felt cool.<br /><br />“What the hell did you just say?” Rob’s voice was hard, none of the fondness he’d exhibited for Jamie just moments before evident. Inhaling deeply, he turned to face the music.<br /><br />“Wolf… I… I’m a wolf. I was going to tell you.” He wasn’t lying. He had always intended to tell Rob, but in a carefully orchestrated situation. Not like this when he was naked and vulnerable with the air still reeking of their mating. This was wrong.<br /><br />“Get out.” Rob was up and off the bed with jerky movements. He pulled on a pair of sweatpants, pushing dark, tousled hair from his face. Jamie’s throat choked with emotion. He wavered between begging for Rob to accept he was a wolf and demanding to know why the hell it was a problem. If he thought about it, the first would probably have made the better option, but his emotions tumbled from his lips in exactly the wrong way.<br /><br />“What? Dude, what difference does it make? It’s not like I wolfed out on you or something. It wouldn’t happen like that unless… Well, some people are kinky weird, but jeez… It has to be on purpose; otherwise I’m just a guy.”<br /><br />“Who is also a wolf. I was in that type of bar for a reason, wolf.” Derision marked Rob’s voice. “Now get the fuck out.”<br /><br />Jamie was on his feet. His clothes were strewn somewhere between the bedroom and the front door. He didn’t care because being naked wasn’t an issue for him. “You’re a cop. You can’t be prejudiced like that. They’d never let you on the force. What the fuck is going on with you?”<br /><br />“One, you’re a liar, and I detest liars.”<br /><br />“Is it just the lying thing, ’cause I can—”<br /><br />“Two,” Rob continued with ice in his tone, “you’re a shifter.”<br /><br />“Rob—”<br /><br />“You’re right; I don’t detest shifters as a species. However, sex with another species is not something I’m into. It’s a personal preference. I do not appreciate that choice being stripped out of my control by your fucked-up little game. You, as an individual, I feel quite free to detest. Now get out.”<br /><br />Jamie searched for a response, temper and disappointment warring for control. In the end, his usual self-defense mechanism kicked in. He wasn’t going to argue with Rob. Clearly Rob was just like the rest of the people that had turned him away. He shrugged to indicate he didn’t care what Rob was saying. It didn’t matter he had lied, because in his head, it wasn’t a lie; it was just a delayed truth. Rob had left the bedroom. He moved to the door, opened it, and stood with arms crossed against his smooth, bare chest, waiting for Jamie to leave.<br /><br />“Whatever.” Jamie acted as indifferent as he could. “I don’t need you. I’m going.” He stooped to pick up his clothes but straightened to face his now ex-lover as he spat words he couldn’t stop into the room. “You know what, cop? My parents just kicked me out of my home for being gay. Now you’re kicking me out for being wolf. I mean, what the hell? I must have some screwed-up DNA, right? Fuck you.” Deciding between one heartbeat and the next to leave his clothes, Jamie shifted. With no theatrics, he’d been a man and now he was a wolf. If it had been a movie, it’d get booed for lack of effects. Jamie had no idea how it worked genetically, just that it did. Inside, he was two creatures and, with the speed of a thought, could shift between the two. There was nothing unnatural about it. His wolf made the decision for exit easy—the open window to the fire escape or the open door with Rob and his anger-filled eyes.<br /><br />He left the room through the window and down the steps, leaping the last distance and landing on four paws without looking back at Rob again. Keeping what he was from Rob had been a big mistake, but Rob’s reaction was nothing short of overkill. Just like his parents. Jamie was sick of being judged and found wanting for things he couldn’t control.<br /><br />Shaking off the evening, he left the alley at the side of Rob’s building. The cement sidewalk was cold and hard under his paws. Jamie glanced back at the alley, and lifting his muzzle into the air, he howled. The sound was lost and mournful in the dark. With a shrug of his wolf shoulder, Jamie turned and walked away. The breeze ruffled his fur as he went. Regret colored his thoughts, and his heart ached with the realization of what he had just done.<br /><br />With determination, he turned in the direction of Silver Moon. Shaking off his feelings, he toughened up. Putting others ahead of himself, he headed downtown. The scent of a she-wolf earlier had unsettled him and he was determined to see what he could find out.<br /><br /><b>Chapter 2</b><br /><br /><br />Rob didn’t bother with even trying to get back to sleep. He wasn’t capable of washing his brain clean of what had just happened. A shifter. A fucking shifter. Fucking a shifter. Being fucked by a shifter.<br /><br />Fuck.<br /><br />He wasn’t a lupophobe, and he prided himself on his acceptance and understanding of the shifters and their right to live in the city. Jamie wasn’t the first shifter he had encountered. Far from it. Hell, Rob’s formal squad title was the Wolf and Human Team, and it was tasked to handle the peaceful coexistence of both species in his city to the letter of the law. To his analytical mind, it was just two categories of humans being classified into groups on the basis of similar observable physical traits. In this case, they were part-time human and part-time wolf, and he was one hundred percent full-time human. In a city where status was paramount, he fought hard to ensure equality under the law was available to all.<br /><br />When Rob had signed up for this gig, after five years on the streets as a uniform cop, he had seen it all. It wasn’t only shifters that murdered or raped or conned any more than it was only humans. He had arrested both human and wolf on any given occasion. Both had their dark side and their good. Like every cop, he saw what happened beneath the surface, stuff that never made it to TV or the internet. There were numerous instances of equal and friendly relationships across the lines, even the deputy mayor was a wolf.<br /><br />Jobs were open to both, and no discrimination was allowed. Policymaking in government made everything as equal as possible, but there was a disproportionate number of wolves in the lower-income areas of the city he visited on a daily basis. Other humans avoided these holes, but he had compassion for those wolves who struggled with money, position, or lack of control over their own destiny. In them, he saw his own mom struggling to get him through college, working three jobs to keep a roof over their heads, and he recognized the same resilience in families there. Shifter kids were raised right, rules were mastered, respect for authority was instilled, and ironically, it was in these shifter ghettos that there was a real sense of working-class pride. He had shifter friends who were on the wolf/human liaison team with him. Nick Alexander and Joe Christie were third-generation city shifters and formed the other half of his small team, alongside himself and his partner, Dan Brooks. They went bowling, did guy stuff together. They frequently got drunk together. The shifters in the foursome always won at the bowling. They were friends—good friends. Whether they were wolf or man had no impact on that friendship.<br /><br />Once there had been legal restrictions on marriages between human and wolf, reinforced by ignorance and groups of high-powered pures. There were restrictions in immigration laws, even some spatial segregation, but the Equality Act put an end to a lot of that, even if it had taken some forty years to pass. Now these marriages weren’t common, but they weren’t unheard of, and it was legal, though often a difficult decision to make. The physical imbalance between the species made wolf/human relationships not just ill advised but downright dangerous.<br /><br />Joe had married a wolf and Nick only dated wolves. The other human on the team, Dan, was in a heavy relationship with a human girl called Rebecca. In Rob’s mind that was the best way, just because it kept everything simple and ordered. He only slept with other humans. Didn’t matter what he accepted about shifters and humans being equal or that he had sworn on his badge to treat all as equal. It was his preference.<br /><br />Lost in unpleasant memories, Rob stalked around his apartment. The anger he felt caused by Jamie’s lies coiled inside him, waiting to spill into violence. If he ever set eyes on Jamie again, he was going to completely ignore him and act as if the situation had never happened. Groaning, he slumped onto his sofa, shivering in the cold that permeated his apartment. He didn’t feel sick or changed or a victim of any of the horror stories spouted on street corners from those who battled the “scourge of the shifters.” Shifters didn’t disgust him. He just didn’t want to get into a relationship with one. His attraction to Jamie made him feel tired, old, and furious at himself for not recognizing Jamie for what he was.<br /><br />Disbelief at Jamie’s words, spoken as if it wouldn’t matter to Rob he was being fucked by a shifter, gave way to remembering the fascination of seeing Jamie drop his humanity and changing to his wolf form. It had been beautiful, instant, graceful. Wolves were notoriously private, rarely shifting in public. Rob had only witnessed it twice. Once, when he was pretending not to look, Nick changed and leaped away, following a trail of blood, and the other had happened when he attended a trial and witnessed a horrific first change, which was something he never wanted to see again.<br /><br />Seeing Jamie’s grace, the blond wolf standing, haughty and proud, then closing his eyes briefly and leaping out of the window, sent a frisson of guilt through him. He pushed it away roughly. Now was not the time to fall for the bullshit. The bottom line was Jamie had kept being a wolf a secret, stripping Rob of his right to choose. Rob’s desire to stay out of intimate situations with a wolf was the reason Rob went to Silver Moon, which was supposedly wolf-free and safe.<br /><br />Burying his face in his hands, Rob found himself enveloped by the scent of the shifter—of Jamie, his aftershave, and the musk of sex. Tormented by the mixed feelings the smell aroused in him, he went to the bathroom to shower. If he could scrub Jamie from his body then he might be able to scrub the whole thing from his mind.<br /><br />He stood under the pounding water for a long time, letting it relax his shoulders. Rob tried to focus only on his disappointment and anger. It was unsettling when all he could think about was how Jamie had been rejected twice, and how even in wolf form, he had seemed so sad when he left.<br /><br /><br /><br />* * * * *<br /><br /><br /><br />The bullpen was quiet with Joe scowling at a computer screen and Nick straddling a chair turned backwards, grinning at his partner’s distress.<br /><br />“How many times do I have to tell you? No porn at work,” Rob offered as he leaned against his own desk.<br /><br />“Not porn,” Joe muttered. He was clearly not rising to any teasing at the moment, which made whatever he was looking at important. Cop-attitude slid over Rob in an instant, and he straightened. He hadn’t been called in, but cases happened in the blink of an eye and maybe this was a new one. Murder possibly?<br /><br />“What have we got?”<br /><br />“An anniversary.” Nick smirked, and Joe threw him a dirty look. “A forgotten anniversary.”<br /><br />Rob relaxed. Not a job then, which was a relief. It looked like maybe the exhaustion from his rough night was going to remain hidden from prying eyes in paperwork duties. He had to get in the expected dig. “You forgot your anniversary? Shit, man, Mara is going to kill you.”<br /><br />Nick chuckled. “She already has. This is our wolf-boy post ear-bending.”<br /><br />“What are you going to get her?” It was an innocent question, but Joe looked up at him, and the distress on his face made Rob wish he’d kept his mouth shut. Dan arrived at his desk, holding two coffees, called a hello, and passed one to Rob, who gripped it gratefully. His partner certainly knew how to kick-start Rob’s day. He sensed Dan was going to say something as he was looking at him curiously, and he cut it off at the pass. “Come on, tell us your ideas so far.”<br /><br />“I don’t know. Everything I get her is wrong now. It’s like her hormones are perpetually screwed.” Compassion washed over Rob. He would never know what it was like to have a hormonal, pregnant wife, but he could sympathize with the real distress on his friend’s face. “I got her something for the baby for Christmas, this cute red T with a wolf pup and a slogan about mommy, but that was wrong ’cause it wasn’t actually for her, and did I think more of the baby than her? What kind of wolf am I to think his mate didn’t want a gift? Then, thinking on that, I got her this really expensive perfume for her birthday, but she just said it made her feel sick, and why couldn’t I think of the baby? I can’t freaking win.” He frantically pressed buttons on the scarred, dirty keyboard, as if the internet could solve all the problems in his life if he just hit the keys hard enough.<br /><br />“A rocking chair,” Rob said, as memories of his own mom holding his baby brother flooded back. “A gift for her, an antique chair, and a thoughtful gift for baby too, somewhere to sit and rock.” Both Joe and Nick looked at him with eyebrows raised, and he sensed Dan’s observation from a side glance. Joe looked as if he wanted to say something snarky, even went as far as opening his mouth, and then it seemed the penny dropped and sudden realization crossed his face. He turned his gaze back to the screen and started banging away at keys, muttering words like chair, rocking, and nursing under his breath.<br /><br />Dan continued to stare at him, and finally Rob turned to face him, seeing his partner’s eyes narrowing and a frown creasing his forehead.<br /><br />“What?” Rob said patiently. He hated the way Nick and Joe looked at him sometimes, like they had some kind of freaky shifter sense that saw right through him, but Dan had completely crazy skills of his own.<br /><br />Finally he spoke. “Jeez, Tarrant. Did you not sleep? You look like complete shit.”<br /><br />Great. “Late night.”<br /><br />“When the hell you gonna find some nice boy and settle your ass down?”<br /><br />“Why would I want to do that? Just ’cause you loved up with that girl in traffic doesn’t mean we all want it. Anyway, I can leave the nesting to that idiot there.” He gestured at Joe, who was grunting like a Neanderthal at his screen, a huge grin on his face.<br /><br />“Hey, everyone’s gotta settle down someday.” Dan patted him on the chest. “All this partying, man… I’ll tell you what’s happening. You’re losing your looks.”<br /><br /><br /><br />“Dude, you wish you looked half as good as this,” he said, pointing up at his own face. It was easy to joke with his friend, familiar and safe and so far away from shifters and Jamie and his lies that he felt himself relaxing. They laughed, easy and calm, and shared the coffee and joked all morning at Joe’s expense about absent fathers and night feedings and hormones. To Rob’s mind, it was that calm before the storm that made what happened next seem even worse.</div><div><b></b><br /><ul></ul></div>

Shattered Secrets (In The Shadow of the Wolf #1)

In the Shadow of the Wolf Series Written with Diane Adams   Book 1 - Shattered Secrets Book 2 - Broken Memories Book 3 - Splintered Lies   T...

+ Read more »