Book Excerpt: One Last Heist

One Last Heist profile Picture


Excerpt:

“Would you just admit you can’t see in the dark?” Toshiro snapped in pure frustration. “Mack. Are you listening to me?”

“I’m fine. My ears work perfectly.”

Fine.

He’s fine.

Right.

Fine, my arse.

Well, my arse is fine.

“You walked into the table.” Toshiro watched in the darkened room through the night vision on his camera while his stubborn husband stumbled around. “And into the sofa—oh, and the wall. Classic. You’re supposed to crack the safe, not take a header into it.”

“Toshi,” Mack whispered his nickname sharply. “Couldn’t you yell at me in Cantonese or Japanese or any one of the hundred languages you speak? It would still be distracting, but I wouldn’t understand a word of it.”

“I speak thirty languages—not a hundred.” Toshiro grinned even though Mack couldn’t see it. “I suppose the point of a timed run-through of cracking the safe might require your full attention. Oh, look, you tripped over the carpet again.”

Toshiro Ueda-Easton.

Gregor Tempest Mackay Ueda-Easton. Fine, fine. I’ll be quiet. Continue walking into the wall, but I’m not explaining your concussion to the others.” Toshiro continued to ramble about the idiotic stubbornness of his husband in Portuguese, one of the many languages he’d picked up over the years. “Idiota.

“I understood that one.” Mack tossed one of the drill bits of his safe-drilling rig in his husband’s general direction—missing him completely. “Keep cussing me out in Spanish.”

“Portuguese.”


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iTunes: https://apple.co/2paNGjg

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All digital links: https://books2read.com/last-heist

Book Excerpt: One Last Heist

One Last Heist profile Picture


Excerpt:

“Would you just admit you can’t see in the dark?” Toshiro snapped in pure frustration. “Mack. Are you listening to me?”

“I’m fine. My ears work perfectly.”

Fine.

He’s fine.

Right.

Fine, my arse.

Well, my arse is fine.

“You walked into the table.” Toshiro watched in the darkened room through the night vision on his camera while his stubborn husband stumbled around. “And into the sofa—oh, and the wall. Classic. You’re supposed to crack the safe, not take a header into it.”

“Toshi,” Mack whispered his nickname sharply. “Couldn’t you yell at me in Cantonese or Japanese or any one of the hundred languages you speak? It would still be distracting, but I wouldn’t understand a word of it.”

“I speak thirty languages—not a hundred.” Toshiro grinned even though Mack couldn’t see it. “I suppose the point of a timed run-through of cracking the safe might require your full attention. Oh, look, you tripped over the carpet again.”

Toshiro Ueda-Easton.

Gregor Tempest Mackay Ueda-Easton. Fine, fine. I’ll be quiet. Continue walking into the wall, but I’m not explaining your concussion to the others.” Toshiro continued to ramble about the idiotic stubbornness of his husband in Portuguese, one of the many languages he’d picked up over the years. “Idiota.

“I understood that one.” Mack tossed one of the drill bits of his safe-drilling rig in his husband’s general direction—missing him completely. “Keep cussing me out in Spanish.”

“Portuguese.”


Buy Links:

Amazon US: https://amzn.to/2IwvZHc

Amazon UK: https://amzn.to/2IzVYxy

Amazon CA: https://amzn.to/2ka8sxa

Amazon AU: https://amzn.to/2wX4mlh

iTunes: https://apple.co/2paNGjg

Nook: http://bit.ly/LastHeist-Nook

Kobo: http://bit.ly/LastHeist-kobo

All digital links: https://books2read.com/last-heist

Excerpt: The Botanist

Amazon

Are you serious about this leaving shit?” Trace sat across from him at one of their favourite bars in Coronado—McP’s Irish Pub. “I thought you’d be in until you hobbled out with no hair or teeth, clinging to your walking frame.”

“They pay you by the joke?” Wyatt flicked one of his onion rings across the table at him. “I’m done—nothing left for me to accomplish.”

“Weak sauce. Utter fucking weak sauce.” Trace leaned forward with his elbows on the table. “It’s the gay thing, isn’t it?”

Wyatt didn’t even blink in response. He waved the bartender over for another round of Guinness; Hamish had gotten all of the SEALs hooked on it. “What gay thing?”

“The fucked up policy that says you can’t serve if you’re open about who you are.” Trace pushed the plate of nachos to the side. “None of us give a shit who you fuck—or who you love.”

Wyatt knew the men under his command respected him, thought of him as a friend. SEAL teams were almost always tight-knit units. They only had each other to count on in the middle of treacherous missions. “None of you?”

“None of our element.”

Excerpt: The Caretaker


Amazon

“Frederick?”

Freddie paused at his full name—no one other than his angry dads called him anything other than Freddie. He paused by the front door to see Taine had caught up to him. “Yes?”

“Thank you, Frederick, for coming out to help us poor sods out.”

He had to clear his throat to respond. The man’s deep voice saying his name caused his stomach to flip and his lower region to rise in interest. He smiled through it. “I’m always happy to help.”

They stood awkwardly. Neither knew what to say. A loud thud was their only warning before a stumbling Scottie slammed into the back of Taine, which sent him into Freddie like a row of dominos tumbling to the floor.

Freddie groaned under the mass of muscle. He cringed inwardly when it dawned on him that Taine would now be able to feel his earlier piqued interest. “Could you get off me?”

“Want me to help you get off?” Taine’s murmured comment sent a shiver down his spine. “I wouldn’t mind.”

“No, I want you to help me get up before my ribs decide to cave in completely,” Freddie replied tartly, if a bit unsteadily. “What do they feed you rugby types?”

“He’s calling you fat, Tens,” Scottie teased from somewhere above them. Freddie couldn’t see him through the bulk of the man crushing him to the floor. “Up you two get, or I’ll start making assumptions that’ll have me blushing.”

The weight of Taine lifted off him, and a hand reached down to yank him up to his feet. Freddie frowned at Scottie, who hadn’t quite removed his fingers yet. The tall, muscled, blond man had an edge to him that was worrying.

Scottie.” Taine shoved his friend down the hall away from them. “Go see Caddock.”

“Aye aye, Tens.”

“He’s—something.” Freddie chose to stick with his fathers’ advice to not be rude when it wasn’t necessary. He glanced up to find Taine’s intense gaze focused on him. “I should get going. My dads will wonder what happened.”

“Your dads?”

“My family is a modern one.” Freddie had no intention of explaining his family to a man he’d only recently gotten to know. “Was there anything else?”

Taine cocked his head to the side as if assessing Freddie. He slowly smiled—a wide, dangerous sort of grin, rather akin to a predator who had just caught his prey. “Can I have your number?”

Pardon?

Not the question I thought was coming.

“Why?” Freddie shook his head at himself. Do I care why an incredibly attractive man wants my number? He internally shrugged before holding his hand out. No, no I don’t care why. “Give your phone over—I’ll add it for you.”

The bemused expression on Taine’s face made the tingling in his spine at the brush of their fingers worth it. Freddie quickly entered his mobile number under the name Nurse Bunny. He imagined the man would have to go to great lengths to explain it to anyone who saw it.

“Enjoy your weekend with the lads.” Freddie started towards the door, tossing the phone over his shoulder. “Don’t get too drunk. I’m not making another emergency visit to cure hangovers.”

Book Excerpt: One Last Heist

One Last Heist profile Picture


Excerpt:

“Would you just admit you can’t see in the dark?” Toshiro snapped in pure frustration. “Mack. Are you listening to me?”

“I’m fine. My ears work perfectly.”

Fine.

He’s fine.

Right.

Fine, my arse.

Well, my arse is fine.

“You walked into the table.” Toshiro watched in the darkened room through the night vision on his camera while his stubborn husband stumbled around. “And into the sofa—oh, and the wall. Classic. You’re supposed to crack the safe, not take a header into it.”

“Toshi,” Mack whispered his nickname sharply. “Couldn’t you yell at me in Cantonese or Japanese or any one of the hundred languages you speak? It would still be distracting, but I wouldn’t understand a word of it.”

“I speak thirty languages—not a hundred.” Toshiro grinned even though Mack couldn’t see it. “I suppose the point of a timed run-through of cracking the safe might require your full attention. Oh, look, you tripped over the carpet again.”

Toshiro Ueda-Easton.

Gregor Tempest Mackay Ueda-Easton. Fine, fine. I’ll be quiet. Continue walking into the wall, but I’m not explaining your concussion to the others.” Toshiro continued to ramble about the idiotic stubbornness of his husband in Portuguese, one of the many languages he’d picked up over the years. “Idiota.

“I understood that one.” Mack tossed one of the drill bits of his safe-drilling rig in his husband’s general direction—missing him completely. “Keep cussing me out in Spanish.”

“Portuguese.”


Buy Links:

Amazon US: https://amzn.to/2IwvZHc

Amazon UK: https://amzn.to/2IzVYxy

Amazon CA: https://amzn.to/2ka8sxa

Amazon AU: https://amzn.to/2wX4mlh

iTunes: https://apple.co/2paNGjg

Nook: http://bit.ly/LastHeist-Nook

Kobo: http://bit.ly/LastHeist-kobo

All digital links: https://books2read.com/last-heist

Book Excerpt: One Last Heist

One Last Heist profile Picture


Excerpt:

“Would you just admit you can’t see in the dark?” Toshiro snapped in pure frustration. “Mack. Are you listening to me?”

“I’m fine. My ears work perfectly.”

Fine.

He’s fine.

Right.

Fine, my arse.

Well, my arse is fine.

“You walked into the table.” Toshiro watched in the darkened room through the night vision on his camera while his stubborn husband stumbled around. “And into the sofa—oh, and the wall. Classic. You’re supposed to crack the safe, not take a header into it.”

“Toshi,” Mack whispered his nickname sharply. “Couldn’t you yell at me in Cantonese or Japanese or any one of the hundred languages you speak? It would still be distracting, but I wouldn’t understand a word of it.”

“I speak thirty languages—not a hundred.” Toshiro grinned even though Mack couldn’t see it. “I suppose the point of a timed run-through of cracking the safe might require your full attention. Oh, look, you tripped over the carpet again.”

Toshiro Ueda-Easton.

Gregor Tempest Mackay Ueda-Easton. Fine, fine. I’ll be quiet. Continue walking into the wall, but I’m not explaining your concussion to the others.” Toshiro continued to ramble about the idiotic stubbornness of his husband in Portuguese, one of the many languages he’d picked up over the years. “Idiota.

“I understood that one.” Mack tossed one of the drill bits of his safe-drilling rig in his husband’s general direction—missing him completely. “Keep cussing me out in Spanish.”

“Portuguese.”


Buy Links:

Amazon US: https://amzn.to/2IwvZHc

Amazon UK: https://amzn.to/2IzVYxy

Amazon CA: https://amzn.to/2ka8sxa

Amazon AU: https://amzn.to/2wX4mlh

iTunes: https://apple.co/2paNGjg

Nook: http://bit.ly/LastHeist-Nook

Kobo: http://bit.ly/LastHeist-kobo

All digital links: https://books2read.com/last-heist

Book Excerpt: One Last Heist

One Last Heist profile Picture


Excerpt:

“Would you just admit you can’t see in the dark?” Toshiro snapped in pure frustration. “Mack. Are you listening to me?”

“I’m fine. My ears work perfectly.”

Fine.

He’s fine.

Right.

Fine, my arse.

Well, my arse is fine.

“You walked into the table.” Toshiro watched in the darkened room through the night vision on his camera while his stubborn husband stumbled around. “And into the sofa—oh, and the wall. Classic. You’re supposed to crack the safe, not take a header into it.”

“Toshi,” Mack whispered his nickname sharply. “Couldn’t you yell at me in Cantonese or Japanese or any one of the hundred languages you speak? It would still be distracting, but I wouldn’t understand a word of it.”

“I speak thirty languages—not a hundred.” Toshiro grinned even though Mack couldn’t see it. “I suppose the point of a timed run-through of cracking the safe might require your full attention. Oh, look, you tripped over the carpet again.”

Toshiro Ueda-Easton.

Gregor Tempest Mackay Ueda-Easton. Fine, fine. I’ll be quiet. Continue walking into the wall, but I’m not explaining your concussion to the others.” Toshiro continued to ramble about the idiotic stubbornness of his husband in Portuguese, one of the many languages he’d picked up over the years. “Idiota.

“I understood that one.” Mack tossed one of the drill bits of his safe-drilling rig in his husband’s general direction—missing him completely. “Keep cussing me out in Spanish.”

“Portuguese.”


Buy Links:

Amazon US: https://amzn.to/2IwvZHc

Amazon UK: https://amzn.to/2IzVYxy

Amazon CA: https://amzn.to/2ka8sxa

Amazon AU: https://amzn.to/2wX4mlh

iTunes: https://apple.co/2paNGjg

Nook: http://bit.ly/LastHeist-Nook

Kobo: http://bit.ly/LastHeist-kobo

All digital links: https://books2read.com/last-heist