Book Title: Till Death Do Us Part (Poireaut & Di Angeli, Book 1)

Author: Dieter Moitzi

Publisher: Self-published

Cover Artist: Dieter Moitzi

Genre/s: Cosy Murder Mystery

Trope/s: M/M romance, enemies to lovers, slow-burn, HFN, holidays

Themes: painful past, Egypt, cosy, slow romance, holidays

Length: approx. 101 750 words/approx. 305 pages

It is a standalone book.

Goodreads

Buy Links

Amazon US | Amazon UK

 

Come on board the Queen of Egypt and discover this new murder mystery full of witty dialogs, funny situations, and blooming love! Already short-listed for the French Gay Book Award 2020!

 

Blurb

When Auntie Agathe invites Raphaël Poireaut, a young Parisian bartender, on a Nile cruise, he isn’t really thrilled. To stare at old stones together with a bunch of old codgers—why, thanks for the gift. Unsurprisingly the trip starts off badly enough. Not only does Raphaël have an unnerving confrontation with a handsome but standoffish and haughty Italian guy, but he has barely stepped on board the cruise ship when he stumbles upon a tourist… who has been stabbed to death.

The young Venetian Stefano di Angeli agrees to spend his vacation in Egypt with his best friend Grazia. He hasn’t had holidays for six years. But his first encounter with a young, angel-faced, curly-haired Frenchie brings back painful memories. Besides, what could be worse to start a Nile cruise than to discover a murder has been committed on board? Cazzo—fate seems to bear him a grudge!

While the Egyptian police led by Colonel Al-Qaïb are investigating the murder, Raphaël and Stefano find themselves swept away by the events… and by the blooming feelings that inexorably draw them closer. Will they manage to sort out the truth from the lies and find the murderer? Will they be able to resist this mutual attraction that seems to overwhelm them against their wills?

A new, funny and light adventure by the author of “The Stuffed Coffin”, the French version of which has won the French Gay Murder Mystery Award 2019.

Falling in love with Raphaël and Stefano

 

Is my boyfriend listening? No? Good. So, I can tell you… but shush!

Here’s the thing. I might have fallen in love with Raphaël and Stefano.

Of course I would. I have created them for my Poireaut & Di Angeli-series, after all, the first book of which, “Till Death Do Us Part”, shall be released on June 24.

But please! Even if I had not created these two characters, how could I not fall in love with them?

Let’s take Raphaël. Young, lean-muscled, with bright blue eyes and half-long, blond, wild curls and—gasp!—nice chest-hair. An angelic and yet mischievous smile, tattoos on his arms, and that slight bad-boy-thing going. He’s everything I’m not. You see, I’m lean, all right, but if you detected muscles on my body, I’d urgently advise you to go see an ophthalmologist. My eyes oscillate between grey, green, and blue, depending on the lighting, the weather, and my mood. My head is shaved, with less and less left to shave. There is some chest-hair, and I do smile rather frequently (whether angelically or mischievously is in the eyes of the beholder, I’d say). No tattoos because I’m afraid the procedure might be too painful for me. As for the bad-boy-thing… let’s say that, despite my shaved head and nose piercing, I’m the kind of guy old ladies turn to for help when they can’t sort out their small change in a shop. Maybe because I’m no youngster anymore (cringe).

Apart from his physical assets, Raphaël would be right down my lane, too. He’s known for swearing if needs be, something we have in common, and doesn’t mince his words. He’s a quick-witted, rather easy-going lad, ready to listen, ready to help. He’s also an easy blusher, and my, is he cute when he gets all flustered and scarlet!

On the other hand, look at Stefano. Italian as they come. Well-built, tallish, devilishly handsome, with good taste as to his clothes, which are chic without being ostentatious. Raven black hair cut in hipster fashion, manly features, broad shoulders, trim waist. He’s thirty, which makes him six years older than Raphaël; but compared to me, he’s still a pup. Coming from an aristocratic Venetian family, he sometimes seems a bit aloof, almost haughty, but when you get to know him, you realize he’s a regular charmer with a beautiful smile he simply forgets to turn on more often.

Despite his apparent qualities, he tends to be a bit insecure, but when push comes to shove, he’s the perfect shoulder to lean on, the perfect man to assist you. He’s a loyal friend, an avid learner, down-to-earth and thoughtful, and has the memory of an elephant. Oh, I nearly forgot to mention two things: Stefano has that slight accent that is capable of melting glaciers. And he’s a hell of a good kisser.

I daresay they look appallingly good together… And yes, I’ve fallen in love with them just as they might be falling in love with each other. Whether they do and whether their hearts might guide them towards an HEA… well, you’ll have a whole series to find out.

 

 

Excerpt

The young guy hears my quiet steps, or he senses my gaze. He turns around.

Oh, hel-lo, man! My heart does a backwards flip. In my job I meet handsome guys aplenty. But this one is a class of his own. His face could be that of a male model, I kid you not. As if one of those unreal guys had stepped out of the glossy pages of Vogue Homme or GQ. Manly features, sensual mouth. Square chin, Roman nose, neatly trimmed designer stubble. His forehead is bare, his dense hair styled backwards and falling behind his left ear in a natural, lazy wave as if doing it spontaneously.

Alas, my immediate interest isn’t shared. On the contrary, he reacts as if suddenly facing a monster. He should be thankful the rail in his back prevents him from moving too far back and falling into the Nile.

Quite a boost for my self-esteem.

The handsome cretin pulls himself together at the last moment and scans me from head to toe. His cold gaze hovers over my naked chest, and he frowns, his eyebrows bushy but perfectly drawn. I notice that his whole body-language exudes barely concealed distance and aversion.

Despite his hostility, I murmur, “Hi”. Somewhat coolly perhaps, but still. I was raised like that. All right, I add “Asshole!” in my head, because, hello?

The young man answers with a nod. A black lock falls over his eyes, he puts it back in place. He seems to hesitate, then turns his back on me again.

Okay, asshole. Go ahead, continue your moody brooding, I don’t care. I don’t need no mens, even if they’re handsome as fuck.

HALF AN HOUR LATER, THE sun has started its race across the pristine sky for good; the heat has risen as well. The hipster slash asshole is still sulking in his corner when I sit on a shady deckchair. Our meeting was unpleasant, but he and the guy in pink belie my initial prognosis, and that’s a good start. We’re at least three on this boat to contemplate our sixties from below.

With the back of my hand, I wipe off the sweat trickling down my chest and soaking my chest hair. I realize I’m thirsty. There’s a bottle of water in the fridge in my cabin. Let’s go get it. You always need to stay hydrated, as Auntie would say. Granted, she means drinks, as in alcoholic beverages, but that doesn’t make it wrong.

The man in the pink tracksuit has apparently seen enough, too. When I get to the top of the stairs, he’s on the last step.

He’s waiting downstairs, holding the door for me.

“Thank you,” I say.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” he remarks in an affable tone.

I look up in surprise. His beautifully low voice doesn’t match his puny physique and the mousey face. He makes an affected hand movement. “The landscape, I mean. The light.”

Automatically, I think, Oh. Family. “Very beautiful indeed,” I reply. “And ‘splendid things gleam in the dust’…”

Recognizing the Flaubert-quote, he laughs good-heartedly.

The swinging door closes behind us. Another door slams softly somewhere down the corridor. In the first cabin, I hear a woman say heatedly, “… I think he got it. He won’t bother you anymore, tweety.”

Tweety! Smirk. I really wouldn’t want to be pet-named tweety.

We pass other cabins; the vague noises of conversations, no more than murmurs, drifting out. I can hear showers running as well. The ship is waking up. A nice smell wafts through the corridor, a woody, leathery perfume for men that strikes me as familiar. The pink, mousey guy in front of me must have sprinkled himself with it.

A few doors before mine, the young man stops. “See you later,” he says.

“See you later,” I reply. When I pass behind him, I get a whiff a his pronounced citrus perfume, very fresh, very pungent. Oh. He’s not the source of the leathery perfume smell…

He turns the key and opens the door. “Mon chéri—are you awake?” he asks. The door closes behind him.

I was right. Mon chéri, not ma chérie. He is family. I’m not the only gay guy on this ship.

I walk to my door while rummaging in my shorts pockets. Let’s see… mobile… pencil… notepad… h-m. Where have I put my keys? Did I take them? Damn—don’t tell me I locked myself out…!

And then—

Suddenly—

A YELL. “AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!”

I JUMP, turn around, gaze down the empty corridor. What was it? Who was it? Where was it? What am I supposed to do?

“MY GOD! MICHEL!”

Michel?

A bad feeling bubbles up in my guts.

 

For a longer excerpt, please visit my author page: http://dietermoitzi.com/till-death-do-us-part

 

 

Born in the early 70s, I grew up in a little village in Austria. At the age of 18, I moved to Vienna to get my master’s degree in Political Sciences, French, and Spanish. Today, I’m living in Paris, France, with my boyfriend and work as a graphic designer.

In my spare time, I write, read, cook fancy recipes, take photos, and as often as I can, I travel (Italy, Portugal, Morocco, Egypt, the UK, and many more places). My literary tastes are eclectic, ranging from fantasy, murder mysteries, gay romances to dystopian novels, but I won’t say no to poetry or a history book either. I’m more a hoodie/jeans/sneakers kind of guy than a suit-and-tie chap.

So far, I’ve published two short-story collections as well as four poetry collections. My first murder mystery novel “The Stuffed Coffin” featuring Damien Drechsler and the dashing Greek student Nikos has been released on January 6, 2019 and is also available in German and French. The French version has won the prestigious French Gay Murder Mystery Award 2019 (Prix du roman policier – Prix du roman gay 2019). You can also find me on Rainbow Book Reviews, where I write book reviews under the pseudonym of ParisDude (for French reviews, have a look at my review site livresgay.fr).

 

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