RELEASE TOUR incl Exclusive Excerpt: The Attercop by Peter E. Fenton
How far would you be willing to go to keep the one you love?
Length: 62.5k words Series: The Declan Hunt Mysteries Book Number 4 Prior Reading: required (previous books are available to review) Genre: Contemporary, Cozy/Low Spice, Mystery/Thriller, Romantic Suspense Tropes: Mystery, Age Gap, Workplace Romance, Hot Detective, Canadian Romance Trigger/Content Warnings: “While there aren’t explicit descriptions, there are mentions involving homophobic comments, there is a beating, and there is a kidnapping that has elements of violence.” Designer: Erin Dameron-Hill
The Attercop is the fourth book in the Declan Hunt Mysteries series.
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Charlie Watts has found the perfect partner in Declan Hunt, and he hopes that they can spend the rest of their lives together. But when your boss is sexy and talented, sometimes you’re not the only one who wants to tie him down.
The Attercop, a clever adversary who is good with disguises, starts to spin a web of lies and deceit to get Declan for his very own. And as the two detectives look into a break-in where nothing is taken, and a random beating at a gay bar, their perfect partnership begins to unravel.Will Charlie be able to stop the worst from happening, or will The Attercop get his wish and take Declan away from Charlie forever?
Charlie drifted in and out of sleep. His dreams were filled with visions of people lurking in the shadows, clambering along ledges, silently breaking windows—his windows. He lay in bed looking toward the night sky. In one of the window panes, he saw the reflection of Declan’s side of the bed, but there was no one there.
Then he heard a sound…a breathy moan. It was Duck, softly whining.
What the fuck is he doing here?
Duck turned to Charlie, but he was somehow…different. He wasn’t the happy dog that drooled every time someone noticed him. His eyes were rheumy. He looked painfully sad. Duck lowered his head and snuffled his way to the bed. He put his front paws on Declan’s side and sniffed at the sheets, then made his way back to the windowsill and bayed at the outside world.
Charlie tried to move, but his limbs refused to obey. He tried to shout, but he couldn’t make a sound. He tried again, his lungs gasping for air, filling themselves to the brim—then, with all the power left in him, Charlie let loose a bellowing cry like his life depended on it. He hoped that Declan would rush to him from another room, toss himself onto the bed, grab Charlie by the shoulders and tell him everything was going to be okay. But Declan didn’t come. Was this a nightmare, or was this real?
Charlie fought to extract himself from the tendrils of the dream-world, using every ounce of strength he had to drag himself out of the dying night terror.
He tried to sit up again. This time, he could move. He opened his eyes and looked at his watch—nine a.m. Sunshine streamed through the window, but there was no dog, and there was no Declan.
