Maggie Blackbird

Book Hooks is a weekly meme hosted by Marketing for Romance Writers as part of the MFRW Authors Blog. Readers can jump from one author to another who share hooks from their current WIP (work in progress) or any previously published books.

For this week’s edition of Book Hooks, I give you a teaser from my recently release publication Twisted Beauty, a m/m dystopian romance.

His community or his enemy.  He can’t have both.

Deep in the badlands, long after the fall of modern civilization, Hunter patrols the area as the war chief for his Lakota community.  His latest mission is to hunt down a marauder who robbed his neighbors of their precious goods.  He’ll act as this man’s judge, jury, and executioner.

Having lost everything at his former Ojibway encampment, Chassis is far from home.  He wanders the badlands, a grim reaper bringing death to those with what he needs to survive.  But there is one man courageous enough to challenge him.

When the duo faces off, neither expects the sizzling chemistry to erupt between them, nor for their duel to touch what both have denied themselves.  Now they must choose to either remain together and sacrifice their beliefs, or go their separate ways, losing what they’ve spent their lives searching for—love.

Genre(s): M/M Dystopian Romance, LGBTQ+, First Nations Romance, Native American Romance
Heat Rating: Level 4 (violence, dubious consent)
Publication Date: November 3, 2023
Publisher: eXtasy Books

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Drawing in a breath, he repeated his earlier performance of squint straight ahead and then shift his gaze to the ground. There still wasn’t a hint of the marauder anywhere, but the fucker was here. Somewhere. He took another glance at the ground, continuing to ensure he didn’t snap or crush anything that could alert others to his presence. The bandana still wrapped his temples, and he’d donned his buckskin jacket because the temperature had dropped a good ten degrees. He’d also tucked his ponytail within the jacket to keep his hair out of the way.

He sidestepped a huge rock that enabled him to inspect the uneven, pebbled shoreline, and then glimpsed around his hiding spot.

Nothing. Just evidence of a campsite. During his one-mile trek, he’d seen no signs of the Mustang, but this was the marauder’s resting place for the night. He took in a water skin, flannel shirt, leather jacket, bedroll, backpack, and a rabbit in a wooden cage.

Rabbit?

Hmm, the furry critter must be the marauder’s dinner.

The deliberate snapping of a twig pricked Hunter’s ears. He whipped on his heel but was too late.

Before he could aim his gun, the tip of a hunting knife lay against his throat. A strong hand with long fingers gripped his wrist. His opponent was smaller with a compact build of maybe around five-seven, no match for Hunter’s height of six-foot-three. Hope rose. If he outweighed and outsized the marauder, he could escape with his life.

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