Aftermath
Darren Brown spent two years running from his past, but he could only run so far before he was found.
Darren Brown lost the only two people he loved just days apart. His mother first, then his best friend. Guilt over his friend's death drives Darren to wander for over a year before he winds up in the town of McKinton, Texas.
Lee Bausch served his tour in the Army then started his quest to find answers only one person could give him—except that one person had moved away. It takes him almost two years to find Darren Brown, and it turns out Darren doesn't have the answers Lee needs—he is what Lee needs. Darren is shy and so sexy Lee can't get enough of him, but he still needs answers because he can't shake the feeling someone he loved was murdered.
After a terrifying experience at the motel, Darren knows he has to tell Lee about the spirits in McKinton. And there's one spirit, scared and alone, who has the answers Lee seeks, if only the spirit knew how to tell Lee his suspicions are right.
What Remains
Severo and Laine thought they had it all. They had great friends, each other—and the spirits of McKinton, TX.
Until Sev gets a call from his sister asking to visit. He's been the family pariah for most of his life. This sudden offering is something Sev had never even dared to hope for. Laine is suspicious but supportive. Then their world is altered when all the spirits in McKinton vanish on the same day.
Missing spirits, a coven of Wiccans, and a sister and her family all hit McKinton at the same time. Laine doesn't know who has stolen the spirits, but he's going to find out.
Was it the well-meaning Wiccans? Or is there something more sinister at work in McKinton?
Publisher's Note: This book has previously been published under the same title. It has been expanded, revised and re-edited for re-release with Pride Publishing.
General Release Date: 15th September 2015
Excerpt from Aftermath
Darren Brown eyed Red, the Rhode Island Red rooster, cautiously, watching for any signs of agitation from the bird. Generally he didn’t have any problems when it was time to feed the critters and gather eggs, but every now and then that red rooster got his feathers ruffled and decided Darren looked like a walking whipping post. The rooster tipped its head to the side and clucked. It was the sign Darren had been waiting for. He wouldn’t have to toss the food from the bucket and run for cover this morning.
A ripple of unease clambered down Darren’s spine as he stepped off the front porch of old Widow Hawkins’ place. Virginia, the café owner, and Deputy Nixon, along with Nixon’s life partner, Carlin, had bought the place with the intention of turning it into a hang-out for the elderly. There’d been talk of Darren staying on once the conversion was done, kind of like a groundskeeper or something, Darren wasn’t sure. The talk never went far since Darren didn’t do much to encourage it. He didn’t know how long he was going to be in town and hated the idea of letting anyone down if he left. As it was, Virginia and the others had agreed to let Darren stay here as long as he kept the place up—and took care of the chickens, a job that had, up until Darren moved in a couple of months ago, belonged to Deputy Nixon.
Darren glanced around as the uncomfortable feeling increased. He knew that sensation, the one that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. It was the one that told him someone was watching him, and his heartbeat accelerated until he thought he might burst an artery. But as hard as he looked, he couldn’t find anything suspicious. Nothing was out of place, and there was no one here but him and the chickens. He’d heard rumors of ghosts—spirits, Severo insisted they be called, and didn’t that little guy creep Darren out? Those pale eyes seemed to drill right into Darren, so he did his best to avoid meeting them.
Still, despite the talk, Darren didn’t worry about such things as lingering spirits. People just stopped when they died. He knew that, believed it if he didn’t believe anything else. One second they were there, laughing, loving you, then they weren’t, and everything about them vanished except what you carried in your memory. Even if you wished you didn’t carry anything of them at all.
Darren shook off the paranoia that threatened to swamp him. No one was here besides him. He hefted the bucket of chicken feed and waved it at Red. “You looking for this?” Darren flinched. The sound of his own voice only seemed to emphasize how alone he was, yet he couldn’t shake the idea that he was being watched.
The rooster clucked and flapped its wings. Darren shoved aside his discomfort and reached into the bucket for a handful of feed. He tossed the mixture on the ground and waited. Sure enough, Red gave him a haughty look, or as haughty a look as a chicken could give, then strutted to the feed and began pecking at it. Soon the hens joined the rooster, fussing and clucking as Darren spread the food around.
“Be nice,” he scolded when a few of them got agitated. “There’s plenty to go around.” Darren edged around the chickens and went into the coop, gathering eggs and placing them in the bucket. When he thought he had them all, he left the coop and headed back to the house. He’d put the eggs in used egg cartons and take them to Virginia, the owner of Virginia’s Café and his boss, who liked to use them while they were nice and fresh.
Since it was Sunday and the café wasn’t opening until eight a.m. instead of the usual five a.m., Darren had plenty of time to get to work and deliver the eggs. Used to waking at four or earlier, he’d found himself wide awake and bored out of his mind by four-thirty. He’d tossed and turned and even beat off, but had finally given up on sleeping in and got up at five-thirty. Now it was a little after six and he figured there was no reason to hang around any longer. Virginia would already be at the café, and he could go in early. She wouldn’t mind.
Darren loped up the porch steps and that creepy feeling ramped up in intensity until he couldn’t draw a breath. Hand tightening on the handle of the bucket, he pivoted slowly and scoured the area. Nothing. No one. It looked as it had every day so far. Darren inhaled and forced air into his lungs then shuffled to the front door. He hadn’t got more than three steps inside before he heard the pop of the screen door at the back of the house slapping shut.
The bucket of eggs slipped from his suddenly lax fingers. Fear flashed through him, settling in his joints, turning them to gel so that Darren’s knees buckled and hit the floor. Fragile shells cracked under his weight, warm wet yolk and albumin seeping through his denim jeans.
Dizzy with the intensity of his fear, Darren caught himself as he fell forward. His hands slipped in the mess he made, undermining his efforts to keep himself from going down. Darren’s chin cracked sickeningly against the floor but he didn’t notice it or feel the pain. All he could hear was the voice in his head telling him he’d been found and begging him not to run again.
Excerpt from What Remains
Sheriff Laine Stenley stood outside squinting against the bright morning sun. A sharp, biting wind slapped against him, cold enough to sting his cheeks and have him pulling at his jacket. He lined up the tab then proceeded to zip the heavy material shut.
Octobers in Texas could be tricky things, weather-wise. One day it would be sunny and in the seventies, and the next, like today, the temperature dropped so fast and the wind kicked up and all a person wanted to do was find a warm place to hide away.
If he had a choice, he’d be home in bed with Severo, his partner of over three years. Just thinking about all that smooth, honey-brown skin pressed against him was enough to warm Laine more effectively than his jacket had. He closed his eyes and let the memories from earlier this morning work through him. Sev, smiling, his celadon-colored eyes heavy lidded with sleep, his full lips stretched in a sultry grin. Flashes of taut, dark nipples and ridged muscles, silky black hair and nimble fingers, a firm, rounded ass and a hard, dripping cock—everything about Sev still called to him.
There’d been no lessening of the desire between them, no doubting their love or commitment. The years had sped by so quickly once Sev had come into his life. Laine figured he’d blink and be standing here, a whole decade gone by, and still he’d feel this all-encompassing love for his partner.
A little fear niggled at him, telling him things couldn’t go on as they had been. It was tempting Fate or God or someone way up the food chain, being this happy.
And I’m just a melancholy, moody fool. Laine shook his head and tugged his Stetson lower, shading his watering eyes. One of these days he was going to break down and buy some sunglasses before the Texas sun fried his retinas. Sure enough it must have already cooked a few brain cells, making him all contemplative and, though he hated to admit it, superstitious. He couldn’t shake the unease caused by his guilt over being happy. And that’s what it was, Laine knew it. Sev was always on him about feeling responsible for everyone, trying to convince Laine he wasn’t—but he was, in a way, and his failures cut deep.
A bright yellow Miata turned in the parking lot, as if summoned by Laine’s thoughts of guilt and responsibility. He watched as the driver parked. Rich Montoya got out of the vehicle and Laine waved at him.
“Did you lose your trucker?” Laine called out, smiling slightly at the way Rich lit up with the mention of his lover.
“Nah, Chris is at the house visiting with his mom and a few of her friends. Coven. Whatever.” Rich grimaced as he approached, and if Laine wasn’t mistaken, there was a ruddy flush crawling up the man’s neck.
“Thought you got along with Miriam.”
Rich’s cheeks darkened. “I do,” he said, his shoulders tensed. “It’s just weird, having a Wiccan High Priestess for a mother-in-law. She and a crew—well, some of her coven, I mean—just did some extra special blessing thing for us. I figured why argue, it couldn’t hurt anything.” He shrugged, glancing down as he scraped the toe of his shiny boot over a crack in the sidewalk. “Chris said she was bringing the High Priest, too. They want to bless the Hawkins Senior and Youth Center.”
The way Rich muttered that last bit nearly made Laine chuckle. He swallowed it down, aware of how uncomfortable Rich was and what the man was asking without saying. “When do they want to do it? I don’t think Carlin and Virginia will have a problem with it, but I’d need to clear it with them first.”
Hopefully it wouldn’t be during the ribbon-cutting ceremony or something like that. McKinton was a great little town, a lot more tolerant than it used to be, but some of the residents might freak over having a Wiccan High Priestess and High Priest dancing around— Laine narrowed his eyes at Rich. “They aren’t going to be dancing around naked or anything like that, are they?”
Rich paled, his normally warm brown skin going an unattractive shade of gray. He gulped and muttered, “God, I hope not.”
Laine arched an eyebrow at Rich. It was getting harder and harder not to snicker. “Are you planning on participating in the ceremony?” Laine might just go along to keep an eye on the whole deal himself instead of assigning a deputy the task. Maybe he’d bring Sev along, too—Sev would make sure Laine didn’t put his foot in his mouth or tease Rich too much.
Of course, if there was dancing involved, Sev would probably be right out there in the middle of it. Especially if it was naked dancing. That didn’t do anything to discourage Laine from the idea of bringing his partner at all.
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