The Shadow of a Honeybun will be Book 1 of my new Honeybun Cousins series. The book will initially release through Red Rose Publishing as a free read, and will be followed with many more stories about the Honeybun's large and sexy extended family.
Dolfe Honeybun is a bad boy. Skimming the dark edges of society in his job as a private detective, he’s seen way too much of the dark side of human behavior and become cynical. So when he catches the pretty black woman with mischievous, golden brown eyes sitting in the middle of his crime scene, he’s just not happy to see her, despite a delicious tightening low in his gut when he gets too close.
Blaise Runa likes to push the envelope. But her party girl ways are destined to come back to bite her. Blaise doesn’t take anything seriously. Unfortunately for her, serious, in a truly yummy form, is about to settle around her like a dark fog. And he’s already not amused by her antics.
Her wide, golden brown eyes blinked rapidly against the light. She sat cross legged on the grimy floor, holding one foot in her hand. He could see a dark smudge across the heel that might have been blood. Her soft lips drooped in surprise as she stared back at him, her gaze fixed on the nine millimeter Glock in his hand.
Pretty, white teeth showed between the kissable lips.
Still holding the gun on her, Dolfe climbed to his feet, the light of his flashlight swinging around the space as he used his hand to shove himself off the ground.
She sat like a statue, nothing moving except her chest, rising and falling in careful breaths. “Are you hurt?”
She just stared at him.
He shone the flashlight around the space before asking the question again.
She finally blinked and said, “I cut my foot.”
The Glock stayed focused like a laser beam on the space between her pretty eyes. “Where’s the gun?”
She blinked again. “Huh?”
“The gun. Where did you ditch the gun?”
She just shook her head and looked at her foot. “I’m bleeding.”
Dolfe adjusted the flashlight downward. She was indeed bleeding. A thin line of blood ran from the cut, over the heel, and dripped onto her hand. “You’ll want to get a tetanus shot. Once you get to jail.” He lifted an eyebrow as her gaze flew back in his direction.
“Jail! For what? It was just a tiny bit of pot. Come on, man. Haven’t you ever partied on a Saturday night? Jeesh!” Blaise dropped her foot and tried to stand.
The gun stayed focused between her eyes. “Stay right there, miss. Don’t move!”
She made a rude noise with her lips and shoved herself off the ground, turning her back to him as she stood. She came up butt first, the micro-mini skirt of her dress bunched up around her narrow hips.
Dolfe’s flashlight found the firm roundness of her butt and glued itself there. His jeans tightened at the view and he found himself licking his lips in appreciation.
As she wiggled her butt in an effort to stand, the alcohol wreaking havoc on her balance, he had to shake his head to regain his focus on the subject at hand. Gunshots, drugs, suspicious female on scene. He swiped a hand down his face and took a deep breath.
He was back.
She finally stood sort of upright, teetering dangerously as she tried to keep weight off her injured foot. Brushing her hands down the sides of her dress, she turned to him with a grimace. “It’s a pigsty in here. And it stinks!” Wrinkling her nose, she placed a hand on one hip and cocked her head, apparently oblivious to the fact that her sexy, lace thong, in pulsating, vibrant red to match her lips, was showcased below her bunched hem. “What was that gunshot earlier? Was that you?”
Dolfe stared at her. His focus was wobbly on the edges again. He was torn between reaching over and yanking down her dress…continuing to enjoy the view…and slapping her into handcuffs.
His jeans tightened even more on that last thought.