Title: The Little Crow
Author: Caitlin Ricci
Publisher: NineStar Press
Release Date: September 12 th, 2016
Category: Romance Genre: Paranormal
Pairing: MM
Pages: 161
Cover Artist: Natasha Snow
Purchase Links:
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Blurb:

Detective Jamison Landry’s job isn’t easy. He’s dealt with the worst criminals imaginable and believes in his work and the community he serves. But he’s never met someone quite like Mal before.

The mysterious man, rescued from a basement in which he was chained by cultists, keeps Jamison guessing. He both confuses and excites him, and Jamison isn’t sure how he feels about that. Plus, things turn from unusual to downright strange when people start insisting Mal isn’t quite human. And Jamison’s creepy dreams of crows and graveyards don’t make things any better for him.

Will Mal stay around long enough for Jamison to figure out his secrets, or will this stranger leave him aching for more?

“Where are we going now?” Mal asked, sounding annoyed as he crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back against the seat.

“To the precinct. We should have been there by now. My captain is going to be furious.” Jamison sighed and ran his hand roughly through his hair. “Do you need anything before we get there? Are you hungry? We should be there inside of ten minutes.”

“Do you live near here?” Mal asked.

Jamison nodded. “Yeah, two exits up.” He pointed with his index finger over the top of the steering wheel. “Why?”

“I want to go to your house,” he said quickly, tapping his fingers on the armrest between them.

Frowning, Jamison shook his head. “No. Absolutely not. We’re going to the precinct. And no one goes to my house, especially not a witness.”

Mal chuckled darkly. “No one? Really, Jamison? When was the last time you took a man up to your bedroom?”

Not in a long time, Jamison slowly admitted to himself. He shook his head, refusing to answer the inappropriate question. He was getting them to the precinct, he’d take Mal’s statement, and then he’d get the man back to wherever he was supposed to be. “I’m going to do my job,” Jamison said aloud, though who he was trying to convince more was anyone’s guess.

“Ready to be free of me so soon?” Mal teased.

Jamison nodded. “What more could you possibly want from me?”

“I want to have dinner with you.”

Jamison had no interest in that whatsoever. “Take yourself out to dinner, Mal. If that’s even your real name.”

Mal sighed loudly. “It is. Or, well, part of it. But I like Mal. And I like when you call me by it. Are you going to stop then, Jamison? And is that your real name? Do you go by James? Maybe Jimmy? Or, oh, I bet you go by Jim-Bob sometimes, don’t you, Jamie?”

He snorted. “I go by Jamison. Nothing else. And yeah, it’s my name.”

“From where?” Mal asked, picking at his nails. He didn’t actually sound all that interested.

“My dad,” Jamison answered curtly. He pulled off the highway and turned down the first street on the left, which took him right past an old brick building. They were in the heart of downtown, complete with noise, crowded office buildings, and people who couldn’t park correctly. He shook his head as they drove by one such person getting out of her car.

Jamison parked the car and stepped out into the musty air. The sewer line had been damaged three blocks up last week, and it smelled like the city still hadn’t gotten around to getting it fixed. He heard children playing from a block to his right, and up ahead a woman was throwing clothes out a window as a man yelled at her from below.

He smiled, knowing he was home in this—the darkest part of the city. He’d chosen to work in this district because he’d felt he could do the most good here.

“This is where you work?” Mal asked, coming up to stand at his side. He didn’t sound impressed.

Jamison nodded. “I love it here. All the people genuinely needing help, getting to see my efforts having a positive impact on the families here—I enjoy it. I’m told that when the station first came here, there was a lot of pushback from the community. There were drugs, we have a big gang area right nearby, and there’s a brick building one block north that was the spot of a lot of prostitution. Now though we get smiles and waves when we come to work in the morning. That building is now a place for teenage mothers to stay and get life skills, to finish school so that they have a real chance at a good life.”

“So the area is all better? Somehow I doubt that.”

“No, it’s not perfect. But it’s better than it used to be, and the families that live here appreciate our efforts to make it a nicer place for their kids.” Jamison was proud of the work he and the others had done to help the community. They weren’t done, but it was better than yesterday, and tomorrow it would be even more so.

Caitlin was fortunate growing up to be surrounded by family and teachers that encouraged her love of reading. She has always been a voracious reader, and that love of the written word easily morphed into a passion for writing. She comes from a military family, and the men and women of the armed forces are close to her heart. She also enjoys gardening and horseback riding in the Colorado Rockies where she calls home with her wonderful husband and their two dogs. Her belief that there is no one true path to happily ever after runs deeply through all of her stories.

 

Email: authorcaitlinricci@gmail.com

Website: www.caitlinricci.com

Twitter: https://twitter.com/CaitlinRicci

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/caitlin.ricci.7

 

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