Title: No Good Men
Series: The Caro Mysteries, Book One
Author: Thea McAlistair
Publisher: NineStar Press
Release Date: September 16, 2019
Length: 65100
Genre: Historical, LGBT, 1930s, Age gap, Historical, Gay, Dark, Mystery, Anxiety
Add to Goodreads
Synopsis
In 1934, almost everyone struggles to pay the rent, and Alex Dawson is no exception. To support his writing habit, he moonlights with his mentor Donnie as a bodyguard for the mayor. It’s dull work, until the night a handsome, golden-eyed stranger catches his eye–and both his boss and his mentor are killed when his back is turned.
Jobless and emotionally adrift, Alex vows to find the murderer before the corrupt police can pin the blame on him. But he soon discovers he’s in over his head. The golden-eyed stranger turns out to be a mob boss’s cousin, and a suspicious stack of money in Donnie’s dresser leads Alex to discover that his mentor and the mayor were involved in something more crooked than fundraising dinners and campaign speeches. As the death count rises amid corruption, mob politics, and anarchist plots, Alex realizes that the murders aren’t political or even business. This is the work of a spree killer, and Alex and his new boyfriend are the only ones who can stop them.
Purchase
NineStar Press | Amazon | Smashwords | Barnes & Noble | Kobo
Just a Little Bit More
A novel goes through a couple drafts. In No Good Men’s case, it took three before it was in shape enough to be published. In those drafts, some things got cut, including this scene. Slotted between chapters five and six, it slowed the pace too much and was a little out of character for nervous Alex and confident Sev. But it’s always fun to get more Alex and Sev, so you can find it below:
My eyes darted to the door of the Cove at every sound. I couldn’t help it. The last time I’d been here, the police had raided the place and I ended up with an indecency charge and a dislocated shoulder. That had been pretty hard to explain to Martin, especially the part about how it took me hours to come see him when I could barely move from the pain.
Sev didn’t know that, of course. Even if he had, there weren’t too many options for places we could go. Most of the hidden speakies had closed when faced with competition from legitimate businesses. A couple restaurants had staff that would look the other way if they were slipped some bills, but that was chancy at the best of times. So the Cove it had to be, with its basement lounge and dark lights.
“Have I upset you?” Sev asked, his finger tracing abstract patterns on the condensation of his glass. White wine. Classy. “You look very uncomfortable.”
I straightened. “Oh, no, it’s not you!” I answered. “It’s um…” I didn’t want him to think me a coward, but I didn’t want to give him the wrong impression either. “I got caught up in a raid here once.”
“Ah.” His shoulders relaxed and leaned back against the booth. “That’s easy to fix then. We will leave.”
“And go where?”
He shrugged. “We can just walk until we find somewhere else. The point is to get to know each other, yes? You can do that anywhere.”
“Maybe we should finish the drinks at least?”
Sev glanced at my undrunk beer, then back at me. I’d ordered it, then found the smell brought me back to death. Was I ever going to get back to normal?
“…Or we can just go. As long as they’re paid for, I don’t think they will mind.” He spilled some coins on the table, more than was probably necessary, and stood. “Why should you stay somewhere where you’re unhappy?”
He did have a point. Being jumpy certainly wasn’t going to help the situation. So I followed him out the door, carefully keeping my eyes off of everything that sprung bad memories into my mind.
The night was cooler than expected, the last struggle of winter as it gave way to spring, and our breaths made little puffs of fog in the air. Sev pulled out his cigarette case and offered it to me. I took it without really thinking, desperate to smoke away my nervousness.
“You said you were a writer,” Sev mumbled around his own cigarette as he lit it. “What do you write?”
“Pulp trash, you wouldn’t know it.”
He shrugged and started strolling. “You give me too much credit, I think. My English isn’t good enough to read this,” he waved the cigarette and it sent orange sparks into the night, “great literature.”
“You speak it great though.”
“I’ve been here most of my life. When I was a child I had to learn quickly so I could translate for my mother. She’s better now, but…” He looked up at me, a smile quirked on his face. “I’m sorry, I got distracted. I would still like to read something you wrote, though.”
“Ah, well, I haven’t got anything new out now. But there might be a newsstand somewhere with some back issues. Or I’ve got the romance novel I wrote back at my apartment–”
“Is that an invitation?”
I hadn’t meant it as that, but I couldn’t deny that was where I was hoping the evening would end. I could feel myself flushing from my face to my feet and everywhere in between. “You don’t want to come back to my place. It’s a wreck.” I swallowed. “But we could go back to yours.”
“Ah…” His smirk turned awkward. “I, uh, do not live by myself so company is… not ideal.”
He didn’t live alone? Shit, did he have a roommate? A wife? He wouldn’t be the first man I’d met who was gratifying himself behind the backs of his spouse and kids. My thoughts must have played like a film on my face because he suddenly waved a hand.
“I am not a cheat,” he insisted. “There, see how bad my English is? I didn’t say the right thing. I… I… I am a bachelor and back in Italy you don’t just leave home unless you’re married and–”
“Are trying to tell me you live with your mom still?”
“Yes, but, not like the way you’re probably thinking! I–”
“Hey Sev?”
He stopped stumbling over himself. “Yes?”
“You’re really cute when you’re embarrassed.”
His cheeks turned red enough that I could see the color shift even in the dark. “Then I must be very adorable right now.”
“Adorable enough that I’ll have to take you home right now before I strip you in the street right here.”
Don’t forget to keep an eye out for more Alex and Sev in the future, including book two Boiling Over, also published with NineStar Press – coming soon!
Thea McAlistair is the pseudonym of an otherwise terribly boring office worker from New Jersey. She studied archaeology, anthropology, history, architecture, and public policy, but none of those panned out, so she decided to go back to an early love – writing. She can often be found muttering to herself about her latest draft at completely inappropriate times.
Facebook | Twitter
9/23 – Bonkers about books
9/24 – The Blogger Girls
9/25 – Love Bytes
9/26 – Bayou Book Junkie
9/27- MM Good Book Reviews
