Sam's Sunday Snippet

The gang flips a 200-year-old manor house in the beautiful, rolling hills of Brown County, Indiana. Unfortunately the house is the site of a questionable death and is rumored to be haunted. Adam and Dirk get caught up in the story of the young couple who were torn apart by family, local events, and something sinister that still seems to be stalking the house. It might not be a ghost, but whatever it is, it has the potential to be deadly.

~~*~~

Scratch, scratch, scratch.

Adam tossed and turned on the cot, his sleep haunted by visions of dead animals, nooses, and blazing fire.

Scratch, scratch, scratch.

A cold nose nudged his arm and Adam grumbled, pulling his arm back from the edge of the cot and draping it over his stomach.

He started to doze, his dreams rising up to disturb him again. A hoarse scream pierced Adam’s half-sleep and he sat up with a gasp. Walter was across the room, digging at the closed door and whining.

Adam surged off the cot, got tangled in the sheet wrapped around his legs, and fell to his knees on the floor. A crash split the silence. Walter barked, frantically biting at the wood.

Adam realized the noises were coming from down the hall and, with a jolt of horror, understood that it had to be Dirk. He threw open his door and started running. Dirk’s door was locked, the handle refusing to turn in Adam’s hand. He screamed Dirk’s name as he pounded and Walter lunged at the door.

A horrible, wet, choking noise sounded behind the door and Adam lost all semblance of reason. He shoved Walter out of the way and stepped back, kicking the door beside the knob as hard as he could.

Pain sheared up his leg. He ignored it, kicking the door a second time. The choking sounds had grown more frantic by the time his third kick crashed the door back on its hinges. And his worst nightmare was realized.

Dirk hung from the iron fixture at the center of the ceiling, twisting and frantically clawing at the rope noose digging into his throat. As he spun, fighting death with every second, the fixture started to loosen from the plaster.

Unfortunately, it didn’t appear that it would fall in time to save Dirk. Adam ran over and grabbed at Dirk’s thrashing legs. In full out panic mode, Dirk couldn’t stop himself from flailing. His legs kicked in violent arcs, slamming against Adam over and over before Adam managed to get his arms wrapped around them.

Gritting his teeth, Adam lifted Dirk as best he could, managing only a couple inches. It was enough to allow Dirk to pull some air into his lungs. He gasped in a breath and cried out at the pain caused by the effort. 

“Breathe, baby,” Adam urged. “Just breathe. You’re gonna be fine.” Even as he tried to calm his lover, Adam looked around for a way to hoist Dirk up enough so he could remove the noose.

There was a chair across the room, lying on its side against the wall as if it had been thrown or kicked there. Adam had the sudden, horrifying thought that Dirk had done this to himself. He couldn’t reach the chair unless he let go of Dirk again and there was no way he was doing that.

Dirk’s legs started to slip through Adam’s arms and he panicked. His arms and shoulders were already straining from trying to keep him elevated in the clumsy hold. He glanced at Dirk. Can you get your legs over my shoulders?”

Dirk pulled on the rope with bloody fingers and managed to lift himself a little but he was weak from his struggles and grew quickly frustrated when his fingers slipped.

“Never mind, here…” Adam stretched out a leg and hooked his toe over the cot, dragging it closer. Dirk started to struggle again and Adam realized he was pulling on Dirk’s legs. He quickly readjusted to take the slack off the rope and reached out with his leg again. With much grunting and straining, Adam finally managed to hook his foot around the frame and tug the cot closer. The cot scraped over the floor until it was close enough for Adam to step up with one foot.

With his leg bent and supported by the cot, he settled Dirk’s feet onto his bent thigh. Dirk was able to shove upward onto his toes and give himself another couple inches of slack. He gasped, his bleeding fingers slipping over the rope as he tried to pull it past his chin and scrape it over his head. Finally he was free and he looped his fingers through the noose so he could lower himself to the floor. Adam held onto Dirk as he slid downward, supporting him as he dropped.

As Dirk’s feet touched the floor his legs collapsed beneath him. Adam caught him, grabbing him into a hug that nearly finished the job the rope had started. He finally loosened his grip when Dirk gasped in pain. Kissing Dirk’s face Adam thought his heart might pound right out of his chest. Dirk clutched him hard, his chest heaving.

“Who did this to you, Dirk?”

Dirk scraped a shaky hand over his face but didn’t respond. He was vibrating with adrenalin and his gaze was blank. He appeared to be shocky with fear.

“It’s okay, babe, we’ll talk about it later. Let’s get you to the hospital. We need to have that throat checked out. If it swells up you might not be able to breathe.”

Dirk sighed but let Adam help him to his feet and out the door. 

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Sam's Sunday Snippet

Book 2 in Declan's Hoale Construction Mystery Series Releases Soon!

And here's a little taste...

A 200 year old manor house, a disputed suicide, and a cache of stolen jewelry. Somebody’s willing to kill to keep Adam from figuring it all out!

Mink climbed out of the little car and stood, his handsome face alight with delighted disgust as it turned to take in his surroundings. “Good god, I’ve been picked up and plopped down right smack in the middle of Deliverance. I’ll bet the bugs are big enough to carry you away out here. Did you see those attack birds? They look prehistoric. What are those things called…pterodactyls? They’re huge! Doesn’t anybody have a rifle? You should kill those mothers before they hurt somebody. I’ll do it if you don’t have the stomach.” He turned a look back toward the pond, where said prehistoric monsters appeared to be tending to their extremely ruffled feathers and enjoying a ray of sun at the edge of the water. “It would be my pleasure.”

“You’re not killing Mike and Sue.” Adam told him in a bemused voice. 

Beside Adam, Maddy appeared to be choking. 

Adam leaned against his truck and covered his mouth with one hand. 

Walter sauntered up from a visit to the side yard and screeched to a stop beside Adam, his nails scratching ruts in the sun-softened asphalt. The big dog whined. Cocked his head. And then started barking, his thick fringe of a tail drooping between his back legs. 

Mink frowned. “What’s wrong with Walter?”

Maddy’s choking worsened, to the point where Adam thought he might have to smack her on the back, if he didn’t choke to death himself first. “What exactly are you wearing Mink?”

Mink’s eyes widened and he looked down, as if surprised he was wearing anything at all. “Oh, these, yeah, I figured it would be pretty wild out here so I dressed for it.”

Maddy’s choking finally emerged in a laugh. “This isn’t a flood zone.”

Mink frowned, obviously not catching her meaning.

Adam jabbed his partner with an elbow. “What she means, Mink, old buddy, is that you’re wearing fishing waders. They’re meant for wading into creeks, not walking around country manors.”

Mink glared at them. “I’m not stupid…”

Maddy doubled over in an apparent fit of coughing. 

Walter inched closer, a low growl throbbing in his throat.

“I know they’re fishing waders. But they’re also impervious to bugs, snakes, and raccoon teeth. Ted’s Sports was selling them at fifty percent off. I couldn’t resist.”

“Next time resist!” Maddy managed in a strangled voice before snorting in a less than ladylike way. 

Standing just about as far away as he could and still reach Mink, Walter poked his nose way out and sniffed the thick green rubber of the realtor’s footwear. 

“You think you’re gonna be attacked by a raccoon? In broad daylight?” Adam gave in and laughed with Maddy. “You’re a kook.”

Mink rolled his eyes. “Only the rabid ones. They wander around during the day until some kind soul puts them out of their misery. So…we’re back to that gun.”

Walter’s tail finally started wagging and he stepped closer, sniffing all up and down Mink’s legs.

“You’re very bloodthirsty today, Mink.” Maddy said, drying her eyes. 

Mink shrugged. “I’m a little out of my comfort zone in the country. You might have noticed.” Mink’s natural good humor asserted itself and He grinned.

Walter lifted his leg on one of the tall, rubber trees and peed. 

Mink was oblivious. 

“I suppose the dumb-fuck hat is part of your anti-rodent, anti-reptile protection too?” Adam threw Maddy a grin as she snorted out another laugh.

Mink wore a dark blue, large billed hat that tied beneath his chin. It looked like something a woman might wear on a boat at sea…if she didn’t care that she looked like an idiot. 

“Blood sucking ticks,” Mink clarified with a nod.

Adam knew he shouldn’t do it but he couldn’t resist. “There’s nothing there to protect you from coyotes.”

Mink’s gray-blue eyes widened and he grew pale under the dumb-fuck hat. “Coyotes?”

“Stop it, Adam.” Maddy strode forward and took Mink’s arm. “He’s just teasing you. There aren’t any coyotes around here.” She threw Adam a warning look. “I’m really glad you’re here, though. We just found out there’s an old slave cabin somewhere on the property. Adam and I are going to go try and find it.”

Mink’s face flared into horror. “Out there!” He threw an arm covered in long denim sleeves vaguely in the direction of the woods. “You want me to go into the wild and wooly wilderness to look for the rotted remains of a cabin?”

Adam wrapped an arm around his friend’s shoulders. “That’s exactly what we want you to do. Besides, look at you. Nothing could possibly get to you through all those clothes and…things.”

“But aren’t you going to show me the house first?” Mink asked in a slightly hysterical tone. 

Maddy shook her head. “You can’t go into the house just yet. Not until your rubber dries.”

“My rubber…what the hell are you talking about, Mads?”

Adam and Maddy just laughed.

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Sam's Sunday Snippet

A Hoale Lot of Trouble

This week's snippet is from my brand new M/M mystery, written under my alias, Declan Sands. Enjoy!

5 Stars from The Romance Studio: "The author has written this one so well I could have sworn I was part of the story as the characters felt like old friends. They are well drawn in a clever, solid plot that is very inviting."

Adam picked his way carefully through the prickly roses and stopped beside Walter, who was butt up, digging in the soft dirt. His cast was black halfway up his leg. “What are you looking for, buddy?”

Walter’s tail picked up steam and his upper body jerked as he tugged on something under the dirt. Adam trained the light on the spot but could only see Walter’s big head. 

Walter yipped excitedly, snatched at the loose dirt, then backed up and turned.

“Argh!” Adam jumped back. Walter had part of a skeleton clasped between his teeth. 

“Give me that, buddy!” Adam reached for the disgusting find and Walter took off, barking happily around the bones. “This is no time to play tag, Walter!” Adam turned to run after him, and something hard and unforgiving slammed into the side of his head, sending pain reverberating through his head. The last thing he was aware of was the frantic sound of Walter’s warning bark, before he plummeted toward the ground.

~~*~~

Something buzzed against his hip. Adam could feel the buzzing in the bones of his skull. 

Bzzzzt…pain…bzzzzt…agony…

He groaned and tried to smack the buzzing thing, his only wish to kill it dead. But his hand wouldn’t move. He tried to open his eyes but they didn’t work either. Some part of his brain told him he should panic. But Adam hadn’t climbed fully to consciousness yet so it felt like a dream. 

The buzzing finally stopped but the sound of nails on a blackboard followed. Adam groaned, wishing he could rub his head. It was screaming. Pain clawed across his skull with jagged fingers. 

The scratching sound increased and someone yelled, “Mark, Mark!”

Adam started to fall back into hazy darkness, preferring oblivion to the screeching pain and the inconsiderate ass calling for the unknown Mark. 

A while later he thought he opened his eyes. The chipmunk was sitting on his chest, its little nose quivering. Adam squinted, “What the hell?”

The chipmunk’s tiny paws lifted off its chest. Then it opened its mouth and asked, “You seen Mark?”

Adam’s battered brain scurried back to oblivion. 

When he woke for real, the first thing he was really aware of was heat. So much of it. Sweltering, broiling heat that pulsed off the walls and drew moisture from his skin. His clothes were soaked, his skin slimy with sweat.

His head still screamed but, unfortunately for him he was fully conscious so he could really enjoy the pain. Adam tried to sit up but his hands wouldn’t separate. He twisted his arms and realized they’d been bound together behind him. His shoulders ached from the unnatural position. He quickly realized his ankles were bound too. The scrape of cloth on his face explained why his eyelids wouldn’t open. 

His mouth felt like cotton. Probably because it was stuffed with it. He tried screaming against the gag but not much came out. In the distance he heard pounding and the screech of electric saws. The familiar sounds of construction. His crew was already on the job. Which meant it was after seven am. 

Good god! He’d been unconscious all night?

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Sexy, fun new Science Fiction Story from Two Very Talented Authors!

Today, I'm very pleased to introduce a great new book from a couple of extremely talented authors. Welcome Sloane and Robert! I've definitely added this fun story to my TBB list!

~~*~~

CLAIRE DE LUNE

Robert Appleton & Sloane Taylor

ISBN-13: 978-1-61124-011-5 (Electronic)
ISBN-13: 978-1-61124-995-8 (Electronic)
Amber Quill Press – Amber Heat
Genres: Science Fiction / Futuristic / Action / Adventure / Mystery / Detective / Voyeurism
Heat Level: 2
Length: Novel (70k words)
Buy Link http://amberquill.com/AmberHeat/ClaireDeLune.html

BLURB:

You’re invited to the galaxy’s most prestigious beauty pageant. Clothing optional. Romance and danger…fully provided…

Cocky young detectives Gerry Rappeneau and Sebastian Thorpe-Campbell arrive at the premier lunar resort expecting a week of eye candy and long massages. With a half-billion-credit purse up for grabs, this year’s pageant is the focus of a hundred worlds. And beauty isn’t the only thing in the eye of the beholder.

One contestant, Evelyn Lyons, is attacked and her assailant killed. Surely a simple case of a stalker gone mad, as nothing bad ever happens at the Selene contest. So the brochure says.

The closer Gerry gets to Evelyn, the more he is convinced she’s hiding something. His meticulous character sparks with her wild, sassy nature, and they embark on a torrid affair. Their forbidden romance isn’t the only thing set to ignite in Pont de Reves.

Sebastian’s infatuation with demure Claire Villiers, another contestant, threatens to put all four of them in harm’s way.

A deadly trail of corporate conspiracy, monstrous assassins and hot bikini wax is more than anyone bargained for in this incendiary erotic mystery. Get ready for some serious heat on the dark side of the moon.

EXCERPT:

Gerry raised his hand, then dropped it back to his side. Nervous as a teenager on his first date, he scrubbed his sweaty palms down his pant legs. A few deep breaths proved another fruitless attempt to calm himself. He stood straighter, ignoring the giggles from farther up the corridor, and cleared his throat. A few ahems later, he managed to find the balls to knock on Evelyn’s door.

His pulse quickened at the click of a switch inside the room. A trace of exotic perfume. The jingle of a purse chain. All familiar, but never old: the details preceding a first date.

A double beep signaled the door unlocking. Evelyn flung it open.

“Hey, thanks for being on time.”

Her greeting wasn’t the most romantic he’d experienced, but, Christ alive, her dress more than made up for it. A deep purple Aeon evening number, off-shoulder, the kind all the hottest policewomen wore to the annual ICLA social on Io.

He’d…um…encountered it before on a few occasions, but never on such mouth-watering curves. When she turned to lock the door, her pert ass and shapely hips, accentuated by a waist-hugging belt, roused his dick to Mach 9.

She wheeled around and flashed him a hungry glance. Her red lipstick, dark eyeliner, and blonde hair tied back, exposing her swan-like neck, conspired to steal his breath.

“You look lovely,” he whispered, ashamed it was the best he could manage without panting like a Labrador in heat.

“Thank you. Love that shirt.” She spun too quickly and almost clashed heads with him, before dropping her keycard into her purse and wrapping the chain around her wrist. She offered him her free arm and added, “Shall we?”

The touch of her soft white skin on his bare arm ghosted him for a moment as they walked to the elevator. He noticed her lip quiver—the girl inside the goddess—and it settled him into his old confident self. Charming, some might say. At the very least, a smoother groove from which to guide the evening.

“Where are we going?” she asked. “Not too far, I hope. We’re supposed to adhere to a strict curfew.”

“Farther than you’ve ever dreamed.”

“Goody. Rules are for wimps anyway. And you are my official bodyguard.” She squeezed his arm to her supple body, her soft breast pressing into him. “Is it expensive? Not that you should spend the Earth on me or anything, but—”

“It’s obscenely expensive. You’ve no idea.”

“Really? And a secret, I take it.”

“And a secret.”

At the elevator, he held the door open and gestured for her to go first. He then followed and pressed the button for the tenth floor. They were alone in the small space, which seemed to shrink as they climbed higher. He watched her reflection in the mirrored wall while inhaling the full body of her delicate honey scent. Delicious. He swallowed hard, mustering all his strength not to wrap her in his arms and kiss her senseless.

The doors pinged open and he led her across a beige carpet and into an elegant tunnel. Pastel murals of strange, exotic landscapes, encompassing all colors, morphed and blended into one another in a rolling three-sixty display that dizzied as much as it dazzled. Evelyn appeared fascinated as she brushed her hand in front of the imagery, wanting to touch those wild alien locales.

Gerry grinned to himself. So far, so good. If she liked this swirling intro, she’d flip for the full service.

~~*~~

LINKS:

Robert Appleton www.robertappleton.co.uk

Sloane Taylor www.sloanetaylor.com