Don't... Book 9
“My head. My body. My fucking heart behind it all.” – Jack Harrison.
Following on from
Natural-Born Cullers
Jack’s quiet confidence calls it out—he’ll get Martin back. It’s there in his soft smile to Jan, in the private brush of touch to the back of Gray’s hand. Jack’s meetings with his psychiatrist Dr Halliday are never missed, care-plans are adjusted with each no-show from Martin, and behind it all, Jack’s hold on to Gray and Jan is never more him: never more intimate.
Yet something tastes off to Gray. Like Jan, he’s only ever known Jack alongside Martin.
But now Jack has no mask to hide beneath…?
No Martin?
When a homeless youth with the heart and soul of a Gothic romantic drifts into Gray’s hall, his fingerprints acid-burned away, masking all identity – the concern is never more there for Jack. Jack’s longer, slower drift into the Unknown.
Slay Bells Ring
Carter. It would be him, wouldn't it?
Rush mostly passes through life unnoticed, so the 8:00 p.m. curfew shutting down festive streets across the UK has no meaning in his displaced world. He sold his phone to drown the Christmas blues anyway. But when a fall off his mountain bike forces him into the path of ex-lover Carter, missed time never becomes more paramount. There’s a twisted killer on the loose, one who has a kink for couples, and Rush and Carter are now the outstanding collectable item: the exes.
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Slay Bells Ring
Paranormal Romance Guild
Jack L. Pyke Official Sitcker
Slay Bells Ring