Book Title: The Lucky Cat
Author: L M Somerton
Publisher: Pride Publishing
Cover Artist: Louisa Maggio
Release Date: September 1, 2020
Genre/s: Contemporary M/M Romance, thriller/suspense, light BDSM
Length: 60 343 words/ 241 pages
It is the first book in a new series.
Buy Links
First for Romance | Pride Publishing
Antiques and ammunition do not mix well.
Blurb
The antique trade is not known for its life or death excitement and Landry Carran is happy that he has to contend only with furniture polish, woodworm and his irascible boss. He gets all the thrills he needs at his favorite BDSM club, Scorch.
Detective Gage Roskam is hunting stolen jewels taken from a Tokyo exhibition then shipped to Seattle. Mired in a deadly race involving the Yakuza, an enigmatic Englishman and too many indecipherable clues, he doesn’t have time to indulge in Dominant fantasies.
When their worlds collide, neither Landry nor Gage expects things to get quite as complicated—or dangerous—as they do. When Landry steps into the path of some powerful, ruthless people, it’s up to Gage to protect him. Along the way they might just discover what they both need.
By closing, Landry was tired, aching and grumpy. Mr. Lao had left him to lock up alone, saying it would be good practice for the next three weeks, so at precisely one minute past eight, Landry ventured onto a fogbound street to lower the security shutters.
He shivered as the damp air soaked into his thin Tshirt. The atmosphere was eerie with visibility so poor. The streetlamps and brake lights on passing cars had softened halos, their glow hardly penetrating the swirling gray mist.
Fuck, this would make a good setting for a horror movie. Landry grappled with the long pole he needed to pull down the rolling shutter. The metal hook on the end of the pole wasn’t that big and Landry had to squint to see the hole he was supposed to get it through. He cursed as he missed for the third time. He wouldn’t be much use at fending off a horror movie villain if he couldn’t even manage to bring the shutters down.
“Do you need a hand with that?” Landry jumped about a foot into the air and dropped the pole, which banged him on the temple then got tangled around his legs, bringing him to his knees.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck. And ow.” He rubbed at his head. “Do you always sneak up on people like that?”
Gage loomed over him, grinning. “On your knees already. I knew you’d be glad to see me. And I didn’t sneak, you weren’t paying attention.” He grabbed the pole, hooked the shutter the first time and pulled it down in one smooth motion.
“Typical.” Landry scrambled to his feet. He padlocked the shutters. “I would have got it next time.”
“Sure you would. I’ll carry the pole for you—you’re likely to brain someone with it. Probably yourself.”
“I’m quite capable of holding my own pole, thank you very much.” Landry made a grab for it.
“I’m sure you are.” Gage snorted with laughter and Landry realized what he’d said. “You can give me a demonstration later.” He kept hold of the pole.
“Oh my God. You’re still in high school. There was me thinking I was the immature one.”
“Sorry…” Gage could barely speak for laughing. “Are you ready to go out?”
“Do I look like I’m ready?” Landry stood in the middle of the sidewalk, hands on hips. “I finished work about two minutes ago.”
“In this fog, I can’t tell.” Gage peered at him. “You are a bit dusty.” He picked something from Landry’s hair. “And you have a pet spider inhabiting your mop.” He waved a few wisps of cobweb in Landry’s direction. Landry danced around, batting at his head.
“Is it gone? Is it gone?”
“I never actually saw a spider…just cobwebs.”
“You…you…” Landry stamped his foot. “You’re unbelievable.”
“And you’re a brat.” Gage gave him a swift smack on the ass. “Shower. I booked our table for nine.”
Landry debated the wisdom of telling Gage to fuck off, but curiosity won out. His ass smarted from one blow and he wanted more of that. Gage was infuriating but intriguing. He didn’t back off from Landry’s attitude—in fact, it seemed to attract him more. “We have to go around back.”
“I thought you’d finished work.”
“I have, but I live up there.” Landry pointed at the building. “Did that not come up in your background checks?”
“Probably… Must have missed that page of the report.” Gage, still carrying the pole, followed Landry down the side of the building. A gate in the boundary wall led to a small yard, stacked with terracotta pots of varying sizes. There was a barred door into the building between a pile of wooden crates and a plant of undetermined origin in a glazed urn. “You should have more lighting back here. It’s not safe.”
“The only thing likely to jump me out here,” Landry said, “is a rat. In this part of town, they grow to the size of wombats.”
“Wombats?”
“Why not?”
“I don’t think we have wombats in the US.”
“Well, we should. They’re cute. To get back to the point, I’ve never had a problem locking up. This area is safe-ish, and isn’t it a bit too soon to be getting overprotective?”
“No.”
Lucinda lives in a small village in the English countryside, surrounded by rolling hills, cows and sheep. She started writing to fill time between jobs and is now firmly and unashamedly addicted.
She loves the English weather, especially the rain, and adores a thunderstorm. She loves good food, warm company and a crackling fire. She’s fascinated by the psychology of relationships, especially between men, and her stories contain some subtle (and some not so subtle) leanings towards BDSM.
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