Book Title: Strapped For Cash
Author: K.L. Hiers
Publisher: Stormy Night Publications
Cover Artist: Korey Mae Johnson
Genres: Contemporary BDSM MM Mafia Romance
Tropes: Co-workers to Lovers, Sex Before Love, Master and Slave, D/S
Themes: Betrayal and Revenge, Never Know Who Your Real Friends Are
Length: 107 000 words/414 pages
It is a standalone book, but the author recommends the others since this is a prequel
Buy Links – Available in Kindle Unlimited
Blurb
After the Luchesi mafia family betrays him, assassin Mickey Tamerlane joins with gangster Boss Cold to seek revenge. But as they maneuver to take out their enemies and claim control over the city’s underworld, Mickey finds himself distracted by the newest member of Cold’s crew.
Cocky and handsome, Roger Lorre pushes Mickey’s buttons until Mickey pushes back hard.
Hard enough to hurt.
But no matter how well-used and sore he leaves Roger, once isn’t going to be enough for either of them.
Not even close.
Publisher’s Note: Strapped for Cash is a prequel to Cold Hard Cash and Hard Earned Cash. It includes spankings and rough, intense sexual scenes. If such material offends you, please don’t buy this book.
“Work going okay, Michael?” Pops asked once they’d parked.
“Real good, Pops. You need something? Want a bigger TV?”
“No, no, I’m fine. I was actually about to ask you the same thing.”
“Me?” Mickey blinked. “You think I need a bigger TV?”
“Do you need something, is what I mean. You know, like…” Pops gestured helplessly. “Like a friend.”
“A friend?” Mickey didn’t understand where this was going.
“I worry about you, Michael. You work all the time, you keep crazy hours… I just…” Pops frowned, clearly struggling to articulate his thoughts.
Mickey leaned back in the seat, and he quirked his brows at his grandfather. “What is it?”
“I want you to meet somebody, okay?” Pops huffed. “Somebody special.”
“Oh, God.”
“I wouldn’t care if you wanted to bring a guy home. I want you to date, kiddo.”
“Oh, God.” Mickey held his face in his hands. “Pops, I’m not dating anyone. I’m too busy working.”
“Well, your neck looks like a vampire got a hold of you.”
“It’s nothing.” Mickey would much rather be shooting someone than having this conversation.
“You know I want you to be happy,” Pops soothed. “There’s more to life than working all the time and carting my old ass around.”
“I’m fine, Pops.”
“This vampire of yours got a name?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Michael Tamerlane, you’re blushing.”
Goddammit.
“His name is Roger, but it’s nothing, okay?” He massaged his temples.
“Roger. Huh.” Pops sounded surprised. “Blond, tall, in real good shape?”
“Yes?” Mickey frowned.
Pops pointed out the windshield.
Mickey heard a low whistle and looked up to see Roger standing there in front of the open garage.
“What the fuck?” Mickey growled.
“Damn, now this is a car,” Roger declared. “Much better than that piece of shit with the broken window.”
“A window you broke, asshole!” Mickey snapped as he stepped out of the car.
“Let’s be honest.” Roger grinned. “It was a piece of shit before I broke it.”
Mickey stalked toward Roger. “What the fuck are you doing here?”
“Oh, I was just in the neighborhood.”
“Bullshit,” Mickey snarled.
Pops poked his head out the window. “Is that your vampire, Michael?”
“I’ll be right back, Pops! Work stuff!” Mickey pushed Roger backwards, forcing him up against the door of the adjacent unit and out of sight.
Roger went willingly, smiling all the while. “Vampire, huh? I can dig it.”
“How the fuck did you know I was here?” Mickey demanded.
“I smelled your manly aroma, and it drew me over.”
Mickey was going to kill him. He grabbed Roger’s jacket lapels and slammed him against the door. His blood was pumping furiously, and being so close to Roger was waking up all kinds of feelings.
It didn’t help he hadn’t been able to handle his earlier frustration. It was even worse that the source of that frustration was right here in front of him, writhing against him with a soft moan.
The exquisite spark he’d felt before was right there where they’d left it, and Mickey’s skin was burning to be near him again. The scent of his cologne was so familiar now, and Mickey breathed it in with an annoyed hiss.
Damn him.
“Stop making those fuckin’ noises! You’re so fucking weird!” Mickey barked. “The fuck do you want? Huh?”
“Oh, Mickey.” Roger grinned, rolling his hips forward with a longing sigh. He pretended to look shocked as he reached down and found Mickey’s straining dick. “You missed me.”
Mickey suddenly couldn’t think of anything else except getting his hands on Roger. He wanted to wipe that dazzling, infuriatingly smug smile right off his face. He was gonna find the nearest horizontal surface and bend him over it.
One last time.
“I’ll be right back, Pops!” Mickey suddenly shouted. “Gotta go talk some business.”
“As long as that business is your dick going in my mouth,” Roger said gleefully, “I’m totally in.”
K.L. “Kat” Hiers is an embalmer, restorative artist, and queer writer. Licensed in both funeral directing and funeral service, she worked in the death industry for nearly a decade. Her first love was always telling stories, and she has been writing for over twenty years, penning her very first book at just eight years old. Publishers generally do not accept manuscripts in Hello Kitty notebooks, however, but she never gave up.
Following the success of her first novel, Cold Hard Cash, she now enjoys writing professionally, focusing on spinning tales of sultry passion, exotic worlds, and emotional journeys. She loves attending horror movie conventions and indulging in cosplay of her favorite characters. She lives in Zebulon, NC, with her husband and their children, some of whom have paws and a few that only pretend to because they think it’s cute.
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