I’m not ready to lose it all for a beautiful dark temptation
Blurb
Tomás
I’ve lost everything.
Forced into a prison masking as a school, I find myself in the crosshairs of more than one killer. My savior? The arrogant prick who wants to control me. Kieran is a nightmare wrapped in a seductive package and when he sets his sights on me I don’t know whether to fight him or kiss him.
Kieran
I am the eldest bastard of one of the four founders of Arcadia University, and I will do anything to see my family fall.
The secrets I’ve kept hidden behind my heart now threaten to bury me alive with the arrival of Tomás. He consumes my space, my thoughts, my nightmares. I hate him for how he makes me feel. This toxic attraction between us forces me to question what matters most—vengeance, power, love. But Tomas doesn’t fit into my world of lies and violence and I’m not ready to lose it all for a beautiful dark temptation.
Excerpt
Kieran
The front door opened and closed as I put my dish away. Getting under Tomás’s skin made me feel alive. I couldn’t kill him yet, but I could f*ck with him.
He straightened when he caught sight of me. A hint of pain crossed his features, but he quickly schooled it before he grabbed a glass of water. Without paying me any attention, he downed the water. I couldn’t help but take in his profile. The soft line of his jaw, the smooth suntanned skin, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed. I had the urge to cup his throat, feel his pulse. He lowered the cup and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Why my d*'ck chose that moment to twitch made no sense. I wasn’t attracted to him. No way. My erection in the field had to do with the adrenaline rush, not him.
He rinsed the cup and put it away. “What?” he finally said. “You want to finish what we started?”
The image of him stretched out on top of me was what came to mind. My d*ck against his thigh. And the f*cker had grinded against me. I’d felt his erection too before he jumped off me as if his ass were on fire. Then he ran.
If I expected Fox to let go of Dasher, then I had to stop reacting to this prick like I wanted to shove him out a window. I still didn’t know Tomás’s true bloodline. Murdering him would cause attention and right now, that would be more dangerous than letting him live.
“I think we got off to a rocky start,” I said.
He snorted. “Really? I hadn’t noticed.”
Cocky f*cker almost made me smile. “You’re a part of the four whether we like it or not. Means that we might be family.” Bile rose in the back of my throat. I already knew we weren’t blood related, but he had to belong to one of the four.
That made him snap his mouth shut. I could see the want of his comeback. He vibrated with it. It took several seconds of silence for him to finally speak.
“I’m not your family,” he said in a tone that seemed absolute. As if he knew without a doubt that he had no blood ties to any of us. “My family is dead.”
My brain buzzed with all the questions I wanted to ask him. Why was he here? Who sent him here? What was his background? Who are you?
He lifted his hand to wipe his face and winced. Dropping his hand to his side he scowled at me. “You’re f*cking psycho. It was just a game.” He made a hasty retreat to his room, holding on to his ribs.
A game?
The asshole needed to learn the rules of this place.
I heard his door close but not the chair. I breathed in a moment, just letting myself calm down.
Not happening.
Reaching his door, I pushed it open without knocking. It almost slammed against the wall. Everything I’d meant to say drained away at the picture of Tomás bare chested in front of me. His pants were unbuttoned and hanging low on his hips. Every bit of him exposed awakened something feral inside of me. A desire so deep, I feared releasing it. I suddenly forgot how to breathe, to talk, to make sense of sh*t.
“What the f*ck?”
The angry sound of his voice snapped me out of my stupidity, and I remembered why I entered in the first place. “You think this is a game? Where the hell do you think you are? Who the hell do you think goes to school here? Because they aren’t friends, they aren’t life-long partners. They’re sons and daughters of assassins, drug dealers, mafia, cartel, and the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.” I should’ve shut up. But I couldn’t. For some reason, I needed him to understand. “Nothing in this place is a game. It’s a test to measure your strength, and out there,” I pointed at the window, “beyond the campus, they’ll rip you apart. So if I were you, I’d really start thinking about alliances. Consider who has your back before someone drives a knife right through it.”
His eyes widened, his mouth opened and closed, and I felt that stirring inside of me that burned all my nerve endings. Then he had to make it worse. “Why do you hate me so much?”
About the Author
Roxas writes dark, forbidden MM Romance with morally gray characters you will love to hate. Beautiful Dark Temptation is her first novel in a planned series.
In the heart of Sin City, two men on opposite sides of the law collide in a dangerous game of power, passion, and betrayal.
Blurb
In the heart of Sin City, two men on opposite sides of the law collide in a dangerous game of power, passion, and betrayal.
Isaac Thoreau, the son of a notorious crime boss, has spent nine years behind bars for his father's murder. Driven, cunning, and unfeeling, he's now back to claim what's rightfully his. But when an enigmatic security guard named Hawk is hired to work at his nightclub, Isaac finds himself distracted… and inexplicably drawn to Hawk, despite his best efforts to resist.
Special Agent Dallas Bradley's mission is clear: infiltrate the Hellhounds and bring their leader, Isaac Thoreau, to justice. Posing as Hawk, Dallas is determined to uncover the secrets of the Thoreau criminal empire. But as he delves deeper into Isaac's world, the lines between right and wrong blur, and soon an undeniable attraction grows between the two men, forcing Dallas to question everything.
Walking away before he's compromised would be the smart choice, but Dallas can't resist Isaac's magnetic pull, even if it means risking his life.
As love and duty clash, only one question remains: will Isaac and Dallas survive the fallout?
Isaac is the first installment of Light & Shadow Duet. It can not be read as standalone. This is a dark MM mafia romance that explores various sensitive subjects like violence, abuse, PTSD, etc.
BOOK 2
Dallas: Light & Shadow Book 2
Prepare for Betrayal and Redemption in Sin City.
As the leader of the Hellhounds and a valued member of the notorious Thoreau crime syndicate, Isaac has it all: power, money, fear. Falling for someone has never been on his radar. But for the first time in his life, Isaac thinks he's found someone he can truly trust—the mysterious security guard who shattered through his icy defenses and became the one person Isaac could be himself with.
Until everything goes up in flames.
Dallas Bradley has been treading an unstable line of deceit between righteousness and criminality. Isaac Thoreau's world is slowly turning him into Hawk, the man who doesn't exist, the man who's ready to do bad things to survive and remain close to Isaac. But when a dangerous deal goes south, in order to save Isaac's life, Dallas is forced to reveal the devastating truth—he's a Special Agent sent to infiltrate the Hellhounds and bring down Isaac.
Heartbroken and enraged, Isaac can't stand the man who betrayed him so deeply. However, when it's clear Isaac's fate is prison, Dallas strikes a bargain with his boss: help save Isaac from life behind bars and keep Dallas undercover to clean up the mess.
Isaac hates Dallas more than ever, but to escape the crosshairs they must work together once more. As tempers and stakes flare in the streets of Sin City, Dallas will risk everything to redeem himself in Isaac's eyes. But can their undeniable connection survive when trust has turned to ash?
Dallas is the second installment of Light & Shadow Duet. It should be read after Isaac. This is a dark MM mafia romance that explores various sensitive subjects like violence, abuse, PTSD, etc.
About the Author
N.N. Britt writes emotional romance novels about music and imperfect people falling in love.
Getting involved with a mafia don was a horrible idea. Falling in love with one was worse.
Blurb
Detective Micah Hart wasn’t sure when his fairly safe, predictable life became something more closely resembling a dumpster fire.
But if he had to pinpoint an exact moment, he would say it was the first time he went undercover as a prostitute in an attempt to bait the notorious serial killer that was stalking New York City’s streets – the media-dubbed Hooker Hunter.
It’s when Damon Romano plows into his life, with his fierce protective energy, and those thick thighs, and the bluest pair of eyes Micah has ever seen.
If only he wasn’t also a temperamental mafioso in charge of running one of the city’s largest criminal empires.
Damon fixates on Micah, obsessing over feeding him and making sure he always has a coat. He spoils him rotten with gifts and insists on taking Micah on as his personal escort – a “boyfriend” to get his nagging sisters off his back.
It’s weirdly sweet, and Micah doesn’t know how he’s become a soft spot in the ruthless man’s otherwise hardened exterior, but it would be a lie to say he didn’t want even more: a real relationship with Damon.
There was just one teensy, tiny problem with that.
Despite what Damon thinks, Micah isn’t actually a prostitute. He’s a cop for the NYPD.
Pretty Policeman is an M/M billionaire mafia romance, sprinkled liberally with rom-com elements, served with a side helping of sugar daddy kink and mistaken identity trope.
Excerpt
“I should- I should arrest you,” Micah said, making sure to empathize his point by jabbing a finger into Damon’s sternum.
It didn’t come out sounding nearly as intimidating as Micah meant it to. (Drunkenly tripping over your words would do that.) It was annoying, even as his lone sober brain cell was yelling at him to shut the f*ck up. Damon didn’t know he was a cop.
Damon’s scowl deepened, but he didn’t move to remove Micah’s finger. “For taking that asswipe’s drink?” he demanded.
“No,” Micah denied immediately. “For s-stalking, and being unconstitutionally sexy. It’s- it’s a violation to my eyes.”
Damon blinked. “I’m a violation to your eyes?” he repeated incredulously.
“Yes,” Micah agreed, drunk enough not to be completely humiliated by the words coming out of his mouth – thank God. “And your eyes. They’re unnaturally blue – they’re f*cking arresting is what they are. I’m arresting you for- for being arresting.”
Micah was sure he could have come up with more ridiculous reasons to bring the man in if he wasn’t so distracted by the feel of Damon’s hard body under his hands. At some point, the rest of his fingers had joined the one he’d poked into Damon’s chest, and they were currently tracing the ridged lines of muscle he could feel through the man’s dress shirt. For once, he wasn’t wearing a fancy suit jacket.
If Micah wouldn’t have been so distracted, he might have noticed the way Damon’s features softened at his bizarre declaration, the man’s angry scowl drifting away.
As it was, Micah was more focused on exploring Damon’s body. He trailed his fingers down his chest and stomach, hands inching to dive into the man’s pants, but, of course, Damon was wearing a belt.
Not that that stopped Micah. While one hand fiddled with the buckle, the other attempted to wedge fingers into the waist band of the man’s pants.
Micah had the vague, faraway thought that he was going to be the one who ended up being arrested – for public indecency. (He was attempting to grope another man in public, after all.)
Luckily – or perhaps, unluckily – Damon was still in control of his mental faculties, and he managed to take hold of Micah’s wrists and tug them away from his crotch before he could feel anything more than a hint of scratchy pubic hair. “You’re smashed, aren’t you?” he demanded.
Micah blinked. “What- what gave you that idea?”
About the Author
Fifer Rose is a happily married mother of four human children and two very spoiled cats.
When she is not wiping snotty noses or being bullied into feeding her cats (again?!), she can be found obsessing over M/M romance. She loves all the tropes, some of her favorite being enemies to lovers, hurt/comfort, sugar daddy, and mistaken identity. She also has a penchant for A/B/O dynamics.
While Fifer is a sucker for angst, a happily-ever-after is a MUST in all she reads and writes.
Unrelated hobbies include baking, attempting to golf (for her husband’s sake), and daydreaming about traveling. (No actual traveling because did you see the part about four kids?)
A dead prostitute. A mysterious meeting. And a retiring cop set on righting past wrongs…
Blurb
Kyoto mafia don Nao Murata is enjoying a quiet reign. Now that his boyfriend, Aki Hisona, has a clean bill of health, they can finally have some much-needed intimate time. If only a persistent detective wasn’t about to throw a wrench in those plans.
Aki’s ready to fully consummate their relationship, but Nao doesn’t appreciate his scandalous flirting in the office. Being left alone to deal with one of Nao’s top men, Aki ends up learning about a secret that puts a crack in Nao’s control.
Amidst worries about whether they’re as compatible between the sheets as they are on the streets, Nao and Aki are forced to work with the police to cement Nao’s reign. As the secret begins to unravel, they’re pulled deeper into a treacherous game of cat and mouse.
Now it’s no longer just their love life they have to fight for…
Prelude to Decay is the seventh book of The Yakuza Path thriller series. If you enjoy gripping suspense, authentic Japanese traditions, and a healthy dose of gay drama, then you’ll devour Amy Tasukada’s latest instalment.
About the Author
International best-selling author Amy Tasukada writes thrilling times of crime, love, and gore. Readers who crave diverse characters, unique settings, and edge-of-your-seat action will devour her Yakuza Path series. Readers who seek less blood and more love will swoon over the Yakuza Path Romance and Would it Be Okay to Love You? Series. Amy is an atheist, queer author who enjoys drinking tea, Japanese street fashion and visual kei music. Her calico cat, O’Hara, is never far from her side. Amy lives in North Texas, but is always planning her next trip to Japan.
Getting involved with a mafia don was a horrible idea. Falling in love with one was worse.
Blurb
Detective Micah Hart wasn’t sure when his fairly safe, predictable life became something more closely resembling a dumpster fire.
But if he had to pinpoint an exact moment, he would say it was the first time he went undercover as a prostitute in an attempt to bait the notorious serial killer that was stalking New York City’s streets – the media-dubbed Hooker Hunter.
It’s when Damon Romano plows into his life, with his fierce protective energy, and those thick thighs, and the bluest pair of eyes Micah has ever seen.
If only he wasn’t also a temperamental mafioso in charge of running one of the city’s largest criminal empires.
Damon fixates on Micah, obsessing over feeding him and making sure he always has a coat. He spoils him rotten with gifts and insists on taking Micah on as his personal escort – a “boyfriend” to get his nagging sisters off his back.
It’s weirdly sweet, and Micah doesn’t know how he’s become a soft spot in the ruthless man’s otherwise hardened exterior, but it would be a lie to say he didn’t want even more: a real relationship with Damon.
There was just one teensy, tiny problem with that.
Despite what Damon thinks, Micah isn’t actually a prostitute. He’s a cop for the NYPD.
Pretty Policeman is an M/M billionaire mafia romance, sprinkled liberally with rom-com elements, served with a side helping of sugar daddy kink and mistaken identity trope.
Excerpt
“Quit staring.”
“I’m not.”
“Oh, you are, honey, and I don’t blame you. Those shoulders go on for dayzzz.”
“I feel like you said that with a ‘z’. Possibly multiple of them.”
“Oh, I did, sweet pea. And that ass. I have one word for it: yum.”
“You literally sound like you’re drooling. Are you sure you’re not the one who’s been staring, Tessa?”
“Of course, I have been!” She didn’t sound the least bit ashamed about it either. “Look at that gorgeous specimen of a man. If he’s not the offspring of some Greek god’s bastard, I will chop off my right tit.”
He wrinkled his nose. “Gross.”
Even as he pretended to gag over his partner’s declaration, however, Micah found his gaze – and attention – drifting back to the man they were discussing: the supposed descendent of a Greek god.
He was tall, at least a couple of inches past six feet, and the suit jacket he was wearing clung to the expanse of his impressively broad shoulders. Said shoulders tapered off to form a trim waist, under which matching pinstripe pants gripped onto thick thighs – which Micah hadn’t known he had a thing for until now.
Seriously, even from a distance, Micah knew those things had to be ripped. The man’s entire body looked rock-solid. Micah couldn’t quite make out any facial features, but if there was any justice in the world, the man must have had the epitome of a butter-face.
Still, Micah could probably look past it, considering, as Tessa had so eloquently put it: “that ass”.
“Micah,” Tessa hissed into his earpiece. (Speak of the devil.) “I said to quit. You’re not even trying to hide your ogling now.”
“You also said to look,” he couldn’t help but point out, but he obediently dropped his gaze to the ground, anyway. He was wearing a pair of shabby red Converse. There were holes on the top of the right one where his toes threatened to peek out, and the left had a loose outsole that liked to flap when he walked.
Not exactly his usual style, but it wasn’t like Micah had picked them out himself. In fact, he hadn’t picked out any part of his current ensemble.
“I meant metaphorically. You’re in the middle of an undercover operation. You can’t let yourself be distracted by every hottie that walks by; you need to keep your wits about you.”
Okay, first of all, that wasn’t just any hottie. Secondly-
“You’re my handler,” he pointed out. “You need to keep your wits about you.”
“Oh, you don’t worry about my wits, honey. I’m not the one that’s thirsting after some babelicious stranger, completely ignoring the potential john coming in at three o’clock.”
Micah tensed, subtly peeking in the direction she’d indicated.
Tessa was right.
A man dressed in a cheap suit was quickly approaching, the graying hair near his temples and the deep-set wrinkles of his brow indicating he was probably in his late forties or early fifties. His uneven gait and the stumble in his step meant he was probably drunk.
Micah tried not to grimace as the man got closer and he spotted the wedding band on his finger. The guy didn’t really fit the profile they’d come up with for their perp – he was too old and looked to be married to boot.
Most likely, he was just another asshole going through a midlife crisis – not the serial killer going around killing male prostitutes they were searching for.
Micah voiced his thoughts aloud, muttering lowly into the mic hidden in his shirt – if the obscene, canary yellow crop top he was wearing could even be considered a shirt. “I doubt he’s our guy, Tess. Too sloppy.”
“Probably not,” the woman agreed, “but you never know. You of all people should know that looks can be deceiving. Let him pick you up. If nothing else, you’ll be able to arrest him for solicitation.”
Resigning himself to do as she suggested, Micah let himself sink into the brick wall he was lounging against near the mouth of an alley. He winced as the brick scratched against his exposed lower back where his shirt didn’t quite cover the skin, but he forced himself to school his expression as the man moved closer.
Honestly, he hadn’t expected to be picked up within the first fifteen minutes of his shift.
“How much?”
Apparently, Mr. Midlife Crisis wasn’t one for small talk. Which was unfortunate because Micah needed him to actually say the words. “How much for what?” he asked.
“Don’t be coy, you little tart.” Micah fought the urge to wrinkle his nose when the man took another step forward and the stench of alcohol hit him straight in the face.
He wasn’t intimidated – or, at least, that was what he told himself when arms braced themselves on either side of his head, effectively trapping Micah against the brick wall. Sure, he didn’t have his Glock, but Tessa was watching out for him. Not to mention the fact that he was well-versed in hand-to-hand if worse came to worst.
“$100,” Micah said, knowing he was highballing the man even before his bloodshot eyes widened in disbelief.
“$100?” he repeated, scoffing. “For a loose hole like yours? I’ll give you $50 if you can even make me bust my nut.”
This. douchebag.
Micah had planned on just wrangling the man’s hands behind his back and arresting him as soon as he’d said enough to incriminate himself, but now he was pissed.
“Oh, I’m sorry, I thought you were asking after my mouth,” he retorted. “If you want a piece of the filet mignon, the going rate’s 300 bucks.”
He heard Tessa sigh into his earpiece, and judging by the dull thud that followed, could perfectly picture her banging her head against the steering wheel of the undercover van she was parked in across the street.
“300 bucks?” Mr. Midlife Crisis sneered. “Who do you think you are? Sluts like you are hardly worth the time it takes for you to get me off.”
“You’re the one who approached me, buddy,” Micah reminded him. “Must be worth something.”
Admittedly, he wasn’t expecting for the guy to take him by the hair, backpedal him into the alley, and smash his head against the wall. The hit wasn’t hard enough to make his ears ring, but Micah’s eyes watered involuntarily when the man’s grip on his hair tightened, and he leaned his face into his personal space. “How about this, you little bitch? Since your ass is apparently off limits, why don’t you get on your knees so I can show you how you ought to be treating your customers with that smart mouth? Consider it a free lesson. If you manage to bring me to finish, I’ll even think about leaving a tip.”
Alright, play time was over.
This guy was more than just your typical drunkard looking to pick up a hooker – he clearly didn’t give a rat’s ass whether Micah was willing to blow him or not, he was going to make him. The fact that there were real people out there working the streets and being treated this way – probably pretty regularly – made anger burn hot in Micah’s gut. He was about to elbow the asshole in the throat and force him to his knees so he could slap the zip ties he had hidden on his person for just this reason around his wrists when Mr. Midlife Crisis was abruptly pulled off of him-
“Get your f*cking hands off him!”
-and punched in the face by the man he and Tessa had been ogling but five minutes earlier.
Micah watched, taken aback, as the Greek god lookalike pulled back his fist and pummeled the man again. And again. His assaulter fell back onto his ass after the third hit. He scrambled backward awkwardly, attempting to shield his bloody face from more attacks while simultaneously doing the crab walk.
Micah may have laughed if he weren’t so stunned.
Carra's Review
I usually stay away from stories with mafia characters as I’m not a fan of main characters who willingly engage in unsavory illegal dealings. Something about how Damon was introduced in the blurb snagged my attention though, and I decided to give this story a chance. I’m so glad I did, because this was such a good read!
I loved Damon’s protective caretaker personality, and how he considered Micah’s needs first. Behind his rough mafioso exterior he’s more like a teddy bear when it comes to Micah. As for Micah, he can take care of himself…though he doesn’t let Damon know that. They do make a great couple though, I really liked the two of them together, even when I was frustrated that Micah wasn’t telling Damon who he really was.
Along with the mistaken identity and enemies-to-lovers themes, there was the mystery of the serial killer to solve, so there’s drama to go along with the romance. More drama entered the picture from certain family members as well. All of it was plenty to keep my attention from page one through the end, and made this an engaging story.
Pretty Policeman was a strong 4-star read for me, and was a great M/M romance debut from this author. I wound up being okay with the more distasteful aspects of Damon’s life, mostly because of that soft side he exhibited with Micah. I think both hardcore mafia romance fans as well as those like me who are not really fans of the genre will both find a lot to like about this story. I do recommend this for readers 18+ for adult language and sexual content.
About the Author
Fifer Rose is a happily married mother of four human children and two very spoiled cats.
When she is not wiping snotty noses or being bullied into feeding her cats (again?!), she can be found obsessing over M/M romance. She loves all the tropes, some of her favorite being enemies to lovers, hurt/comfort, sugar daddy, and mistaken identity. She also has a penchant for A/B/O dynamics.
While Fifer is a sucker for angst, a happily-ever-after is a MUST in all she reads and writes.
Unrelated hobbies include baking, attempting to golf (for her husband’s sake), and daydreaming about traveling. (No actual traveling because did you see the part about four kids?)
