Monday, September 29, 2014

INTERVIEW: BA Tortuga plus #Giveaway!


Hello BA and welcome BACK to The Hat Party <3 Thank you so much for subjecting yourself (AGAIN!) to the RANDOMNESS that is a Raine O'Tierney interview! Please don your best hat, and let's get started!



BA: Hey darlin’! Thanks ever so for inviting me back. I appreciate it so.




INTERVIEW:


Describe yourself using lyrics.

I've been caught sideways out here on the crossroads
Tryin' to buy back the pieces I lost of my soul
It's hard when the Devil won't get off your back
It's like carryin' around the past in a hundred pound sack
Today, I'm gonna keep on walkin'
I'm gonna hold my head up high, gonna leave it all behind
Today, I'm gonna stand out in the rain
Let it wash it all away, yeah, wash it all away
From “Let It Go” by Tim McGraw

If you could go back and speak to your 13-year-old self, what would you say?

Run? ;-) No, honestly I’d say thank you, because that person was the one that survived so I could be happy now.

Tell us about a time someone did you a great kindness.

Okay, so. I have to tell y’all this story.

Back when I was in college, my best friend LK and I were out and about in the car and we blew a tire on the top of a Mixmaster in Dallas (now, if y’all don’t know what a Mixmaster is, go look here, we’ll wait: http://www.pinterest.com/pin/3518505932935152/).

Me, being the totally butch broad that I am, got down out of the car, jacked her up and got the tire off. Now, it’s August, 110 degrees and I swear by all I hold holy, those semis were passing me at a million miles an hour. I thought for sure I was gonna die.

This guy stopped, and I swear to God, y’all. We damn near freaked right out. He’s all creeptastic – gnarly hair and bad ink and no teeth. He helped us get the spare on and then says, “I’ll pull out, follow me, girls.”

So we creep down the Mixmaster and, against ever single bit of sense, we followed him. We had 100 miles left to go, we didn’t know what to do, so we followed.

The guy, Jamie, takes us to a garage, gets the tire replaced, and pays.

We offered him money, and he looked at us and says, “Three years ago my sister lost a tire. Two men stopped, shoved her in her car, raped her, and stabbed her. Before she passed, I promised her I would never ever leave a woman to the wolves.”

And he left.

True story.

It broke my heart.

You have 200 (MORE!) words—Make. Me. Swoon. (PLEASE!)

He parked his old Chevy out on the maintenance road and watched the last rays of the sun go down. He pulled out the pack of smokes and tapped the end against his palm a few times before pulling off the plastic. He’d have one while he waited.
The humidity made everything lazy, even the mosquitos, and he couldn’t help but think that tomorrow he was going to be out here, just another redneck driving down gravel roads acting like that was something special, and Mike would be in his perfectly clean little Toyota with his boxes and his books, heading to the East Coast.
It wasn’t fucking fair.
Oh, not that Jenson wanted to go back East anywhere. What he wanted was Mike. The trip to the beach had given them some stolen kisses and a few quick gropes, but Jenson wanted more.
He wanted full-on naked. He wanted to fuck. He wanted to hear Mike beg for it. He knew Mike would.
The very thought made his dick hard in his jeans and made him curse when his cigarette burned his fingers.
He heard a husky chuckle. “You ever going to learn how to smoke, man?”

If someone challenged you to a water-gun fight *to the death* how would you fare?

Oh, lovely. I’m a Texan and the daughter of the most competitive man on earth. I would wipe the floor with challenger.

What advice do you have for an author who may have stumbled on their path.

Write. Write every day whether or not you want to. When you’re not writing, read. 

A genre-specific virus has attacked you, rendering you INCAPABLE of writing your chosen genre. What do you do now?!

I’d write horror novels. Deeply scary, utterly messed up, creepy as hell horror novels. Either that or kids’ books…

What is the hardest part of writing?

Not having enough time to write ALL OF THE THINGS. Also, there’s that point in every story that you think, I can’t do this. This is crap. :P

Do you dance in the rain?

I live in the high desert. We rejoice in every single drop.

And finally, you’ve just inherited a dachshund farm. What do you do now?



Introduce them to the bassets. :D
~ ~ ~




Book Name: Say Something 
Author Name: BA Tortuga
Cover Artist: Angsty G
Publisher: Dreamspinner Press


Jenson has loved Mike his whole life, but he has never known how to tell Mike how he feels. After high school Mike leaves for college and his Hollywood dream, while cowboy Jenson stays behind in their small East Texas hometown. Neither man knows what to say to go beyond friendship, even though they come together through all of the best and worst times of their lives. The most amazing moments keep bringing them back together, but through huge love and terrible loss, sickness and health, their timing never seems right to take their relationship to the next level. When the universe gives them one final chance, Jenson must overcome his fear and say the most important something before it's too late.



Excerpt:
“So, this guy, he’s the one?” Ricky leaned over the edge of the bed, head dangling down.
“That kills brain cells, man.” Mike looked at himself in the mirror, working the thick pancake makeup to make the scar less noticeable.
“Uh-huh. So does green, and we smoke that. The scar is hot, honey. Leave it alone.”
Mike grunted. “He’s only ever seen it with stitches.”
“He’s, like, a real cowboy?”
“Uh-huh. We’ve been together forever. I just… I can’t believe he’s coming.” Really coming, here. Jenson. Finally. Mike touched up his eyeliner, and looked at himself again. Maybe glasses….
“You’re such a big queen.” Ricky laughed, waving at him upside down.
“You’re just jealous that I’m not your big queen.”
“Nah. You’re too toppy.” Ricky cackled, and Mike had to laugh. Everyone knew Rick would bottom up for anyone.
“Oh yeah. I’m a big bad leather daddy.” He turned and flexed, playing happily. Ricky was going to be a model. Hell, the guy was already working. Him, though, he still wanted to act.
He thought he could. His profs said he had talent. He just had his damned face to overcome.

The phone rang, and he spun around. “Oh God. Do you think it’s him?”


Available from Dreamspinner Press



BONUS QUESTIONS:


*What inspired you to write Say Something?

Music. I heard “Better as a Memory” by Kenny Chesney, then I heard “As You Turn Away” by Sugarland. “Cover Your Eyes” by Jason Cassidy, “This is How a Heart Breaks” by Rob Thomas. Then, I heard “Say Something” on So You Think You Can Dance and that was it.
                                                                                                       
*Is there anything special you’d like us to know about it?

I’ve written so many books and I’ve never been stripped to the bone like this. Right now, I’m crying thinking about this book. Bring Kleenex.

*What are your hopes for this title?

I want people to hear Mike and Jenson and cheer them on. They deserve that.


About the Author: 
Texan to the bone and an unrepentant Daddy's Girl, BA Tortuga spends her days with her basset hounds, getting tattooed, texting her sisters, and eating Mexican food. When she's not doing that, she's writing. She spends her days off watching rodeo, knitting and surfing porn sites in the name of research. BA's personal saviors include her wife (still amazing to say that), Julia Talbot, her best friend, Sean Michael, and coffee. Lots of coffee. Really good coffee.
Having written everything from fist-fighting rednecks to hard-core cowboys to werewolves, BA does her damnedest to tell the stories of her heart, which was raised in Northeast Texas, but has gone to the high desert mountains and fallen in love. With books ranging from hard-hitting GLBT romance, to fiery menages, to the most traditional of love stories, BA refuses to be pigeon-holed by anyone but the voices in her head.

Connect with BA:



This tour brought to you by the ever dapper...

Sunday, September 28, 2014

HAT PARTY PETS! Nutmeg and Cookie LOVE #LGBT Romance plus Amazon giftcard #GIVEAWAY!

It's Hat Party Pets day! I love this day because it means I get to see all the cool pets in all the cool hats and it means I get to wear a hat too :D (Only thing better than being a dachshund is being a dachshund in a hat!) Yep, that's a penguin on my head.

Today we're talking to Nutmeg who loves her hat and Cookie who hates hers.

We're starting a brand new Giveaway this month! New drawing for a $10 Amazon.com giftcard. So check it out.

--Klaus J. Dachshund


*~*~About Nutmeg~*~*


Amelia says: Five years ago, after several rescue-boxers, our family decided on a puppy. We were going to get two (sister boxers, proposed names: Nutmeg & Cinnamon) but Amelia chickened out and only brought Nutmeg home. She is a perfect dog. She never barks unless it's really important (like a person walking down the street holding an umbrella, or pulling a wagon, or something serious like that) and she is careful to divide her night sleeping time equally between the beds of both children in the house (so everyone is safe and knows they are loved). Nutmeg believes there is no upper "weight limit" for lap-dogs, and she knows the best way to demonstrate true happiness is with an aggressive butt-wiggle. Like the hat says: "Life is Good!" with Nutmeg around. :)


Klaus wants to know....


     ...What are Nutmeg's hobbies?

Her hobbies include keeping the backyard squirrel-free and taking long naps in the sun. 

And what book is Nutmeg bringing us today...?

Vincenzo is a witch with a short fuse, a sexy smile, and a dirty mouth.

Life demands little from Vincenzo. Treasured by his mother and grandmother, protected by his coven, and blessed with precognitive skills, he grew up happy and carefree in his snug home by the bay. 

Then a dangerously attractive Fae walks into his house to steal his beloved heirlooms, and into his dreams to steal his heart. Meanwhile, haunting visions of an unknown disaster on the horizon shake his secure world and force him to take responsibility for the first time in his life.
Now he must master his witchcraft, temper his impulsiveness, and listen to his heart.

It’s time for this witch to grow up.

Available from Amazon




*~*~About Cookie~*~*


Mia says: We can't remember how old Cookie is. We got her for a mere $150.00 from a breeder as we were there to buy Cookie's BFF, a white Himalayan who was way more expensive and we named JD Drew after a then Red Sox Player. Cookie, it seems, had been returned by her original owner for being too active and crazy. (Those are the aspects of Cookie we like the best) The breeder guilt-tripped us into taking Cookie too, saying she would be depressed without her BFF. Despite being the smallest and the youngest she rules the other three cats with an iron paw.  She will not hesitate to bite you if you annoy her. She refuses to be alone in a room without one of her humans. She is tenacious. If she wants a place on your lap, dammit, she'll get it. And she refuses to wear Boston Red Sox baseball caps.

Klaus wants to know....


     ...If Cookie were a bride, would she be a bridezilla?

OMG Yes! They would change the term from bridezilla to bride-alayan. (Cookie is Himalayan.)

And what book is Cookie bringing us today...?

Bradley Zelder can’t find his way in life. After struggling for nearly a decade, he has yet to complete his college degree. Working as a school custodian, living in blue-collar Landsbury, MA, his love life is as empty as the rest of his existence. But on his way home after another disastrous date, his truck breaks down in upscale Oceanside. When he thinks life can’t get any worse, a man who is the epitome of Boston elite and everything Bradley finds attractive and intimidating helps him move his truck to the side of the road. Ashamed of his lot in life, Bradley almost lets the opportunity slip away, but he comes to his senses in time and tracks Caleb down.

From a random act of kindness, romance begins to grow, filling all the dark corners of Bradley’s empty life—until a random act of violence threatens to take it all away. Bradley must step up and be the man Caleb believes him to be. Caleb rescued him from a life without hope. Can Bradley rescue him in return?


Available for pre-order from Dreamspinner Press





*~*~OCTOBER'S HAT PARTY PETS GIVEAWAY~*~*
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Friday, September 26, 2014

BOOK BLAST: Lissa Kasey's Hidden Gem plus #Giveaway!





Book Name: Hidden Gem
Author Name: Lissa Kasey
Publisher: Dreamspinner Press
Cover Artist: Siobhan

Blurb: Misaki “Aki” Itou is a psi—a person with mutated DNA granting him psychic abilities. He’s also a contracted companion—a whore. It may not be the perfect profession, but having a roof over his head, food to eat, and not being subjected to torture is a dream come true. He is the top companion at the Hidden Gem, and it makes him enough money to buy the prettiest, most sparkly shoes he can find.
Shane McNaughton is an Irishman who survived the Third World War and works as a cop. Head of Missing Persons, he’s good at finding people, but after the plague of the Third mutated his DNA, he has a hard time letting anyone see the monster inside. He’s been paying for Aki’s services for two years, both the psi and the sexual kind, but he wants more from the companion.
Shane needs Aki’s ability to see into another person’s past to track down a serial killer murdering the children of rich and powerful men, but the more they work together, the clearer it becomes that they are linked through a darker past than either of them realizes.

Excerpt:
First Glimpse by Lissa Kasey

Aki swept up a bottle of McNaughton’s favorite scotch and headed toward the broad Irishman. The man’s shoulders were arched forward, back tense, hair a sexy mess, and face covered with a couple days’ growth. Obviously the cop was on a difficult case. The detective hadn’t yet asked for him, just for his usual meal—almost bloody steak with a baked potato.
“You look like you could use a drink,” Aki told him as he slid into the chair beside him. He turned an empty glass over and poured three fingers of the golden liquid.
McNaughton sighed, his dark eyes roaming over Aki’s small body, platinum blond hair pulled up and styled with sparkling pins, see-thru knit top, and super-short skirt, then over his bare legs down to the gleaming heels. The shoes were a silver mesh of crystals that slid up just past his ankles. A gift from McNaughton. The cop sucked in a deep breath and slid his hand over the covered part of Aki’s thigh. He knew better than to touch bare flesh to bare flesh. Aki was a cognitive psi, could see entire lives of horrors with a single touch, and he was sure McNaughton’s past was filled with a lot of nasty memories.
“Wish you had time for me tonight. But I’ve got a feeling you’re booked up tight.” He glanced back at the room bustling with companions and potential customers. Aki was the only psi in the room, his pale-pupiled blue eyes telling the world that he was different.
“I’m sure Bart can fit you in.” Aki’s eyes scanned the room until he found his boss, who was engaged with negotiations with another client. “Looks like you need some trouble eased tonight.” He leaned in close enough his breath ran across McNaughton’s cheek.
McNaughton turned his head, lips nearly close enough to touch. “Would love a bit of time with your shine.”
“Words like honey, McNaughton.”
The cop flashed him one of his rare, heart-stopping smiles then nodded as Bart appeared beside them. “Table seven is ready, Aki. Number one.” Bart told him.
Aki grabbed Bart’s wrist with a gloved hand. “The cop needs some time tonight. You can make that happen, right?”
“Of course.” Bart nodded to them and took Aki’s vacated seat and Aki made his way to his next client of the evening. There were only two services Aki performed. A hand job and a blow job, one and two. This client wanted number one—which meant he was cheap since rarely did anyone ask for a hand job from him. But his prices were astronomical anyway.
“Hello,” Aki smiled at the man as he slid into the chair opposite him. The client was dressed nice, button down shirt, pressed pants, but he was bald and a little heavier around the waist. A politician probably. “If you’re ready we can head upstairs.”
The man barely spoke, but he leered, eyes tracing over Aki’s form more like he was cattle than a night of entertainment. Even in his worst moments McNaughton had never done that. It wasn’t appreciation, but something darker. Aki sighed internally and hoped this would be fast. He knew a thousand ways to get a man off in minutes. Something about him just set off Aki’s creep radar.
“I hear some wait months for the pleasure of your time,” the man said with slightly accented speech.
Not usually. The only ones who waited weeks were because their schedule and Aki’s conflicted or because they’d done something to upset him or Bart. Most clients got in within a few days if not the same day of requesting Aki’s time. And regulars were always given precedence over someone not yet vetted like this client. “If I don’t please you I can see if Preston or Royce is available.”
“I was hoping for Candy originally.”
Was always good to be told he was second choice. Aki gritted his teeth. “Candy only serves a special kind of client. And he does have a wait list.” Mostly because he took clients who wanted a little more kink than any of the other male companions preferred. Aki was going to recommend this client be removed from the premises after the service was over.
“I guess you’ll have to do then. Won’t you?” He gave Aki a chilling smile.
Bastard. Aki got up from his seat and offered his gloved hand to the man who followed closely. They’d reached the stairs when the man grabbed him, yanked Aki against him and shoved his hand up Aki’s skirt, groping him and sending him into a spiral of nightmares.
A dark room. The metallic stink of blood. Screams. The sound of knives being sharpened. Metal bars clanking. Crying. Pain. The music of an ice cream truck. How odd. It was all ripped away a moment later, but Aki’s stomach was already heaving. The small plate of fruit and yogurt he’d had for dinner was not going to stay down.
Someone carried him unceremoniously to the private companion bathroom near the kitchen and set him in front of the toilet just as the mash of fruits and dairy came up. Aki heaved a couple of minutes, his brain swirling with the images that thankfully began to fade just as quickly as they’d come. With any luck he’d be able to brush his teeth, wash his face and go about his work day.
He glanced up to find Manny, the head of security standing at the door. McNaughton knelt beside Aki. Had held his hair back and even used his jacket to cover Aki’s bottom. The skirts really were too short.
“Bart is already having the guy removed. He should never have touched you like that. Sorry I didn’t get to you quicker,” Manny told Aki. “Grateful to you, Detective, for responding so quickly.”
McNaughton stroked Aki’s back, using the soft material of the sweater to run circles over his spine. “Want to talk about it?”
Aki sighed. “Same crap. Just weird. Darkness, crying, smelled blood. Heard knives.” He shook his head. “The guy could work at a butcher for all I know. The memories get so jumbled.” Often with his own horrific past. “Thought I heard a kid. And bars rattling like in a jail. And the music from an ice cream truck.”
McNaughton nodded like it made perfect sense to him and helped Aki get up and make his way to the sink where there were spare toothbrushes and endless varieties of paste. The cop leaned over and kissed Aki’s hair. “Gotta go. I’ll have Bart reschedule me sometime this week though. Love that you wore my shoes.” He was gone a moment later.
Aki cleaned up and made his way back to work. At least the night was almost over. He was sad that McNaughton hadn’t stayed. Would have liked to see that smile another time or two. At least the rest of the night flew by without incident, even if the detective didn’t return.
“Sleeping with me tonight?” Candy asked as he stripped out of their work clothes, leaving just a pair of bright pink underwear and crawled into bed. His purple hair was already brushed and eyes heavy with sleep.
“Please,” Aki whispered. He stripped off everything but his underwear too. After putting his shoes and pins away, he washed his face.
“Heard that guy touched you. What a jerk.”
“He wanted you to begin with.” Aki curled up beside his best friend.
Candy flicked off the light. “I would have brought him down a few pegs.”
Aki smiled, but he didn’t want to think of the horrible man at all. Those memories just needed to go away. He had enough of his own to battle with each day. He fell asleep hoping to wake up with less nasty memories each day.
The next afternoon Aki was up early and at Artie’s for breakfast—best 24/7 diner in the area—when McNaughton arrived. The man sat down at his table without asking and pushed a pair of slim, jeweled, yellow flat sandals into Aki’s hands. “What’s this for?” Aki asked.
He just shook his head. He threw a stack of cash on the table and motioned to the waitress. “Anything he wants is on me.” He then got up from the table and headed for the door.
“Well that was weird,” Aki said to LuAnn, the waitress.
She pointed at the Vid screen. “He had a rough night. Caught the guy who was killing kids.” The Vidscreen was turned to the news. Something about a man named the “Ice Cream Killer” had been captured. Apparently he used an ice cream truck to lure kids in, kidnapped them, raped them and killed them. Real monster.
A picture popped up of the guy. It was the client from the Gem. Maybe that’s why McNaughton was at the Gem. No matter what he hoped the detective visited him tonight. The new yellow shoes would need a new skirt to match…

Available from Dreamspinner Press: eBook | Paperback 

Author Bio: Lissa Kasey lives in St. Paul, MN, has a Bachelor’s Degree in Creative Writing, and collects Asian Ball Joint Dolls who look like her characters. She has three cats who enjoy waking her up an hour before her alarm every morning and sitting on her lap to help her write. She can often be found at Anime Conventions masquerading as random characters when she's not writing about boy romance.

Author Contact: Twitter | Website | Facebook

Tour Dates: 9/26/14


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Thursday, September 25, 2014

INTERVIEW: Rodd Clark plus #Giveaway

Today we're talking to Rodd Clark, author of gay mysteries, who comes to us sporting a very handsome black cowboy hat! Check out his interview and don't forget to look into the giveaway below. 

Hello Rodd and welcome to The Hat Party! <3 Thank you so much for subjecting yourself to the RANDOMNESS that is a Raine O'Tierney interview! Please don your best hat, and let's get started!



What is your super-secret, wildest, most outlandish writing dream? (Nothing is too wild!)

Just being able to write for a living is pretty wild in my eyes.  I keep kicking myself to see if it’s all real or just a dream.

Give us 5 ½ words of wisdom.

Burn Your Bridges When Crossing

Tell us about a time you were changed.

I changed many times in my life, but my biggest overall change occurred when I decided to write full time and acknowledge myself as a writer as my chosen field.  It forever altered how I look at life and opportunities.

You’re writing along and you’re attacked by a horde of zombies…ON FIRE…how do you survive? Or do you become a zombie too?

Having never enjoyed following the crowd I would choose not to become a zombie on fire and ambling aimless through the city seeking brains to eat… so I would run, and run fast.  Do I survive the apocalyptic scourge?  Well to find that out, one must turn to the last page and like all readers enjoy the ending.

You have 200 words—Make. Me. Swoon. (PLEASE!)

Excerpt from Rubble and the Wreckage:

He stood there watching the bathroom fill with muggy heat and rubbing his crotch front to remind himself of the fabric straining against this own fully engorged member.  Was he that fucked up that he’d consider throwing himself at a man who had so easily killed so many folks across this country?  Apparently so, he reasoned…because he hadn’t moved yet.
His face was flushed as he stared at the open bathroom and quizzed himself what he thought was going to happen there.  But he could hear the man moving around under the water’s spray and the image was impossible to lose.  Fortunately before he could decide what actions, if any he would take, the water stopped and he could almost sense the water dripped from every sinewy bit of flesh.  The door opened and the man stepped out, but didn’t hear the tiny gasp from his writer as he reached for a towel.
He turned and smiled as he caught sight of Christian standing there dumbly.  When he did the author seized on the idea that it was all just a game the killer was playing.  He had somehow read Christian too well…he surmised the desires which had unwittingly surfaced.  Gabe made no attempt to cover his nudity, instead he stood there grinning sheepishly and then toweled off his full head of hair and just quietly asked…

Describe yourself using lyrics.

When the days are cold
And the cards all fold
And the saints we see
Are all made of gold

When your dreams all fail
And the ones we hail
Are the worst of all
And the blood’s run stale

I wanna hide the truth
I wanna shelter you
But with the beast inside
There’s nowhere we can hide

No matter what we breed
We still are made of greed
This is my kingdom come
This is my kingdom come

When you feel my heat
Look into my eyes
It’s where my demons hide
It’s where my demons hide
Don’t get too close
It’s dark inside
It’s where my demons hide
It’s where my demons hide

At the curtain’s call
It's the last of all
When the lights fade out
All the sinners crawl

So they dug your grave
And the masquerade
Will come calling out
At the mess you made

Don't wanna let you down
But I am hell bound
Though this is all for you
Don't wanna hide the truth

No matter what we breed
We still are made of greed
This is my kingdom come
This is my kingdom come

When you feel my heat
Look into my eyes
It’s where my demons hide
It’s where my demons hide
Don’t get too close
It’s dark inside
It’s where my demons hide
It’s where my demons hide

They say it's what you make
I say it's up to fate
It's woven in my soul
I need to let you go

Your eyes, they shine so bright
I wanna save that light
I can't escape this now
Unless you show me how

 When you feel my heat
Look into my eyes
It’s where my demons hide
It’s where my demons hide
Don’t get too close
It’s dark inside
It’s where my demons hide
It’s where my demons hide



You can go back to any point in your life to give you past self a pep-talk. How old is your past self and what do you say?

I would go back to aged twelve and tell myself not to follow the traditional path.

Your thoughts on libraries: GO!

Libraries are great, but fading quickly from the landscape with new technologies.  I often wonder if it’s for the betterment of civilization, or not.

What’s the biggest mistake you’ve made in your career and what did you learn from it?

Falling into the pattern that society bends your working life, I learned later than I should have that people need to do what they desire and not what pays the bills.

And finally, for THE most important question of all: what kinds of dachshunds are the BEST kinds of dachshunds?

Those you raise from puppies and those who become the best of constant companions.


~ ~ ~


Short Ride to Hell introduces Brantley Colton, who is struggling after his close friend is murdered by a serial killer, on the heels of the tragedy he is given a terminal diagnosis of brain cancer and chooses to locate Virginia Marsden’s killer and hunts him across several states to enact his own brand of justice.  

Excerpt: For Brantley Colton his crusade was over. There was nothing in the abyss left for him. Whatever he had once believed in had become a lie. There was no light at the end of the tunnel, just a long highway ahead, a dark road without signposts to direct him. Where would he go from there? The finality in his soul belied some joy in the closing moments. It was over, he could die now…but he couldn’t die happy. It had only been a few hours since he had put the Winter Glade Motel in his rearview, but it seemed longer. Colton drove the desolate highway but felt tired and needed sleep. The air conditioning was on high to fend off the humid Florida evening, the air against his face was the only thing preventing him from drifting into dangerous sleep, even so he contemplated the series of events that had him traveling down 1-75 in the middle of the night…with the blood stains of the murdered man still present on his shirt. He had used an alias to register at the motel, paid in cash, but feared something had been left behind which could tie him to the murder. He needed time to finish the job at hand and his sloppy second-guessing had placed him in peril. Colton had never been one for prayer, but felt like it was a good time to drop to his knees, to confess his crime and ask for forgiveness. Not that it would have done any good for him.

A Cache of Killers is the continuation of the Brantley Colton saga and after being on the run from the law himself, he finds himself in Portland, Oregon where he stumbles onto the abduction and eventual murders of gay hustlers and addicts within the city, with nothing left to lose, Colton treks another group of serial murders to once again find justice where there was none.

Excerpt: Colton had driven around the damp canyons of downtown Portland, he had traipsed through residential streets and cruised blocks where drug addicts casts webs, wooing others to their dens, as spiders ingesting blood from the creepy-crawlies they preyed upon. He had seen most portions of the city where the tourists visited and observed parts where the natives didn’t venture, and through it all he was still amazed at how much the city could astound him.
The deaths of the boys had their affect, but it seemed unremarkable to him. The world still revolved, papers were still sold on the corner stands broadcasting additional information and tastier news, business men still walked carrying attaché cases along the downtown streets, and preachers still held court from the pulpit on each and every corner and in every church…but few were obsessing over dead runaways and street urchins like Colton had been.
Somehow he suspected Art Peck was involved in the boys’ disappearances, but there was no proof to that. The only thing he had seen had been evidenced that Peck’s arrest for solicitation had been well-founded. He was a sexual deviant and patron of those purveyors of human sexuality. But that still didn’t make him a killer. As boring as his time spent trailing Peck had been, he rationalized he might have to do it again, choosing to wait until the upcoming weekend. If Peck was going to show him something, it might be then.
So before Peck could leave his office on Friday evening, Brantley knew he would be sitting across the street watching. He would prepare a basket of food or maybe take a canister to piss in if he needed; he considered buying a cheap camera from the same drugstore he had purchased that ashtray at just to get Peck in some candid photographs. If he encountered others Colton didn’t recognize, he may need to review the pictures later and it could prove his affiliation to others, who knew what became of Shane, Rance or Brian.

His proposal seemed sound and he decided to take the rest of the evening to research any connections that the attorney, or attorneys, might have to the Brewer victim and to possible others. Colton had once again found himself sprawling across his bed at the hotel, drinking coffee and working from his laptop, pushing back the voices which called to him from the distance, urging him to look deeper into their abductions and murders. The coffee was stale, a product of the tiny pot supplied as a hotel luxury, with too few packets of sugar, and those tiny plastic straws which sat on a bureau between the shower and his bed. He had made the coffee that morning, allowing it to become cold and bitter as he drove throughout the day, following Shane’s lawyer around. He absent-mindedly clicked the burner on as he entered the room, to reheat the old morning’s brew.

Available from Amazon: Short Ride to Hell | A Cache of Killers

BONUS QUESTIONS:

*What inspired you to write The Brantley Colton Mysteries?

The first book in the series, titled Short Ride to Hell was supposed to be a completed story, but I was enthralled with the hero’s angst and pain.  He wasn’t me represented on paper, but I began to enjoy the Brantley Colton Character a great deal.  My publisher wanted the book to become a series and while editing the first book I wrote A Cache of Killers, and I enjoyed the character even more in his development.  I am currently working on the third in the series No Place for the Wicked which I hope to have released next year.  I have another project coming out in January which is a big departure, as it’s a M/M Erotic Romance titled, Rubble and the Wreckage, it is a saucy piece with steamy pages and I hope will prove as much of a success as the Brantley Colton Mysteries.


*Is there anything special you’d like us to know about your book?

The writing voice in all my books is greater than the story at times, and I prefer to have broken, anti-hero types driving the wheel.  It is reflected in every work I complete and systematic of my love of tortured souls rising above their destinies.  I am grateful for all the fans in my genre and strive to give another perspective in a sea of talented authors.

*What are your hopes for this titles?

My hopes are that I can join the prestigious ranks of M/M mystery writers whom I enjoy; such as Susan Mac Nicol, Lee Thomas, Josh Lanyon, Marshall Thornton, Rafe Haze and many new and wonderful voices in the genre. I strive to satisfy readers who are eager for more, and willing to give me a chance.


About the Author: Rodd Clark currently resides in Dallas TX.  He shares his life with numerous cats, dogs and his partner of many years.  He has projects under his belt and is working on many others.  Some of his works are “There Is Always Another Boogey Man”, “Jesse”, “Justice Denied”, “Short Ride to Hell” and the recently completed “A Cache of Killers”.  Already penning his next work, Rodd likes to keep busy with writing and reading and of course his menagerie of critters.


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*~*~*GIVEAWAY TIME!*~*~*

Rodd will have free days and giveaways coming in early October, information is available on his publisher’s FB site https://www.facebook.com/beaucoupllc, so please keep an eye out for all the fun.