Details
GLBTQ, MM, Trope: Romantic Suspense, murder, sheriff, animal whisperer, wolves in the wild, animal artist
Kindle Unlimited – 29 September
Series: Book 2 in The Lake Prophet Mysteries
Length: 71,000
Cover Design: Anna Tif Sikorska
The Lake Prophet Mysteries
Romantic Suspense
RJ Scott
RJ Scott, author of M/M romance.Writing love stories with a happy ever after – cowboys, heroes, family, hockey, single dads, bodyguards
USA Today bestselling author RJ Scott has written over one hundred and fifty romance books. Emotional stories of complicated characters, cowboys, single dads, hockey players, millionaires, princes, bodyguards, Navy SEALs, soldiers, doctors, paramedics, firefighters, cops, and the men who get mixed up in their lives, always with a happy ever after.
She lives just outside London and spends every waking minute she isn’t with family either reading or writing.
The last time she had a week’s break from writing, she didn’t like it one little bit, and she has yet to meet a box of chocolates she couldn’t defeat.
RJ's Social Media Links in full
Eli Easton
Having been, at various times and under different names, a minister’s daughter, a computer programmer, a game designer, the author of paranormal mysteries, a fan fiction writer, and organic farmer, Eli has been a m/m romance author since 2013. She has published over 30 gay romances.
Eli has loved romance since her teens and she particular admires writers who can combine literary merit, genuine humor, melting hotness, and eye-dabbing sweetness into one story.
Eli's Social Media Links in full
Website – https://www.elieaston.com/
Newsletter – https://preview.mailerlite.com/sites/preview/843688
Email – jensenholmespa@gmail.com
BookBub – https://www.bookbub.com/authors/eli-easton?follow=true
Goodreads – https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7020231.Eli_Easton
Twitter – @EliEaston
Facebook Group – https://www.facebook.com/groups/164054884188096
Excerpt 1
My cell phone rang. I took it out of my pocket and glanced at it, not intending to answer. But it was a 360 area code—someone local. I accepted the call. “Hello?”
“Hey, is this Tiber?”
“Yes.” I didn’t recognize the man’s voice. For a second, my brain hiccupped, and I thought it was my ex, Jeff. A chill of dread passed over me. Please God, no.
“It’s Sam, over at the riding stables.”
“Oh. Hey! Sam.” My relief was immediate but short-lived. It wasn’t Jeff, because I wasn’t asleep, and this wasn’t a nightmare. But why would Sam be calling me?
When I’d first moved to Prophet, I’d opened a customer account at the local trail rides stables up at the Thompson Cabins and I’d gone out a dozen times. It had been a big ticket item on the ‘pro’ list when I’d contemplated moving to Prophet, honestly. I’d gotten into horses on the rez in Arizona when I’d stayed with my Navajo grandma during the summers. It was one of the best things to do there, and popular with natives and tourists alike. The red rock landscape had that Old Western movie vibe and that was compounded on horseback. But since I’d taken in Duke, I hadn’t had the extra time or energy to go riding.
As for Sam, who owned the Thompson Cabins and the adjacent stables, I didn’t know him well. but I knew he was Gabriel’s brother. Gabriel—the hot sheriff of Prophet. The hot, gay sheriff, and a man I’d put firmly in the friend zone. The thought something had happened to him made my blood run cold. “Is Gabriel okay?”
“What? Oh. Yeah, Gabriel’s fine as far as I know. He’s over in Seattle for some law enforcement training today. I’m really sorry to bother you.” Sam sounded upset. “I just didn’t know who else to call who’s a strong rider. And Gabriel thinks the world of you.”
I looked across at the three crows. Two had jumped off the rock and were now pecking at the ground but one was still eyeing me. Thanks for the heads up.
“Sure. What do you need?”
“It’s Billy.” I heard Sam take a shaky breath. “He took River out this morning about eight a.m., and he hasn’t come back yet.”
I checked my watch. It was almost four. “That’s not good.”
“No. I’m getting really worried. I thought I’d better do something about it before it gets dark. It’d be good to have someone along, just in case. And with Gabriel away and the fact that Deputy Devin doesn’t ride, I didn’t know who else to ask. But if you’re busy, I totally—”
“No problem. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
Sam gave me directions to the trailhead where he wanted to search. I gathered the troops and headed back up the game trail through the woods to my house. The dogs seemed to sense my mood had shifted, and that we were in a hurry. They came along quietly and without their usual reluctance to leave the lake.
I had time enough to worry as we hiked home. Billy Odette was the trail master for the Thompson stables. He was a Makah man in his forties—wiry, strong, and an excellent horseman. He’d grown up in nearby Neah Bay and knew the area well. There was no way he’d be out this long—for the horse’s sake, if not for his own.
I couldn’t help but flash back to the murder we’d had in Prophet just three months ago. Prophet, to all appearances, was a sleepy little town. It was historically an artist’s community. We were separated from the busy towns and cities around Puget Sound—including Seattle—by the Olympic Mountains, one of the densest, wildest, and wettest mountain ranges in the United States. On this side of them, in the open land between the mountains and the western seaboard, the population was sparse. As my mom put it, I’d moved to the ass-end of nowhere.
You’d think that would make Prophet a safe place to live. But lately, I’d begun to see the dark side of that isolation. People moved here who didn’t want to be found—me included. Maybe some of those people weren’t running from an abusive ex, or even themselves, but from the law. It drew people hoping to hide their sins in the deep, shadowed forests of the Olympics.
People who came here to escape the rules were especially angry when the local law tried to enforce them. As Mike Bressett had learned.
I prayed nothing like that had happened to Billy Odette.
