Book Hooks is a weekly meme hosted by Marketing for Romance Writers as part of the MFRW Authors Blog. Readers have the chance to jump from one author to another who share hooks from their current WIP (work in progress) or any previously published book.
For this week’s edition of Book Hooks, I give you a teaser from my holiday short story Tied Up with a Bow.
He’s got the perfect Christmas present for the community’s chief—vengeance wrapped in a shiny box with a red bow on top.
Joseph Slade Indian isn’t angry. He’s pissed. Pissed that the man who threw over his love for glory and money is back, and now leads their Ojibway community as the new chief. Holding the pain deep in his chest, Slade knows how he’ll celebrate the most miserable day of the year—opening a gift of recompense after being dumped by the one man he dared to love.
Gavin Pemmican is full of regret. He knows he made a big mistake leaving Slade for a materialistic dream of power and prestige. No longer the poor bullied misfit but an educated lawyer, he’s ready to put his skills to the biggest case of his life by brazenly challenging Slade in the kangaroo court of sexual torture he’s daring to stick Gavin in—and win back the only man he’s ever loved.
Genre(s): Multicultural, m/m contemporary romance, adult, LGBT, erotic.
Heat Rating: Level 4
Publication Date: November 29, 2019
Publisher: eXtasy Books
Slade pulled up in the driveaway. Perfectly plowed. Gavin had probably gotten the maintenance crew to keep the snow at bay. As if his manicured hands would pick up a scoop to clear the snow.
A lamp burned low in the main window. Another was lit where Slade assumed the bedroom window was. He switched off the truck. There wasn’t a sound present. No kids shouting or hollering. Not a vehicle driving by. Only lit houses with Christmas lights of green, blue, red, silver, or gold shimmering in the dark.
He snatched the bag and got out. Gavin’s slim silhouette stood in the shadows the light cast in the living room.
Even though Slade’s fingers itched to tug at the collar of his parka, he wouldn’t. There’d be no mercy. No nothing. Yes, he loathed bullying, which was why he’d given those assholes a well-deserved beat-down when he’d caught them kicking Gavin around at school in grade six. But Slade’s retaliation was justified. A guy who bit the hand that dared to feed him didn’t deserve mercy.
He tromped up the steps and banged on the door.
It fully opened. Gavin stood front and center, arms folded. “You’re late, but I’ll let you in.”
Let him in? Slade stomped down his growl and banged his boots on the mat before entering. Why he was showing Gavin any consideration after that remark was beyond him.
Slade stood in the utility room, mud room, or whatever people called these kinds of rooms. He set his bag on the washer and removed his parka.
“I’ll hang that for you.”
Nope. Slade needed easy access to his coat when he left, so he shook his head and set the parka on the washer and grabbed the bag.
The door to the utility room was open. Gavin motioned at Slade to step in farther.
He did, walking into the kitchen and eating area with the adjoining living room. The door to the master bedroom, to Slade’s left, was closed. He was familiar with the home’s setup because his sister had the same model, since houses on reserves were bought pre-packaged. Whichever year the cribs went up, every place was the same.
But the renovation done to Gavin’s crib didn’t match Slade’s sister’s house. Hardwood floors. Granite countertops. Custom cabinets. Fancy appliances. It was like an interior designer had shown up and remodeled the place to today’s contemporary city standards, from the elaborate ceiling lights to the plush sectional in the living room.
Well, Slade wasn’t here for a social call. This was business. He shoved his chin at the bedroom door.
“You didn’t want something to drink first?” Gavin motioned at the fridge, arching a perfectly groomed brow. “I can heat some water for tea.”
No, Slade didn’t find Gavin’s newfound confidence a turn-on. Or how his dark eyes were unfazed by Slade’s most determined stare. He shook his head. At least Gavin had made the job easy with loose pants and a pullover draping his slim but toned body.
“I see. This is your game? Fine.” Coolness lurked in Gavin’s smooth voice, a voice that had always draped Slade in velvet.
Bristling, Slade threw open the door and huffed into the bedroom to a king-sized bed that was too big for the small space. It was right there, almost banging into his knees. He pointed at the plush duvet.