Author and Publisher: Fifer Rose
Cover Artist: Pretty Indie: Book Cover Designs
Release Date: December 1, 2022
Genres: M/M Mafia/Billionaire Romance
Tropes: Mistaken identity, forbidden love, sugar daddy kink
Themes: dark themes, but taken fairly lightly and sprinkled with rom-com elements, professional/personal integrity vs. love
Heat Rating: 4 flames
Length: 128 000 words
It is the first in a series, but it can be read as a standalone.
It does not end on a cliffhanger.
Buy Links - Available in Kindle Unlimited
$0.99 sale runs from October 6 - 12
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?)
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BOOK 2 - COMING SOON
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