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Monday, June 24, 2013

Past Tense by Ethan Stone



Release date: 29 May 2013
ISBN: 978-1-925031-15-7
Category: Gay Mainstream

Sub-Genre: Action/Adventure, Contemporary, Fantasy/Paranormal, Mystery/Suspense, Romantic

Link: https://www.wildecity.com/books/gay-mainstream/past-tense/#.UbEdjJxyXFI








Blurb:

Jason Holt was a young man when he lost everything; his family, his boyfriend, and his safety. He’s been on the run since, hiding from an evil man bent on revenge. Las Vegas was supposed to just be another pit stop in his travels but when he learns the very man he’s hiding from is in Sin City Jason decides it’s time to stop hiding.

Private detective Quinn Reynolds lost the man he loved several years ago and since then he has been hiding from life. He can’t move on and is obsessed with making the man responsible for his lover’s death pay for the crime.


When Jason comes to Quinn for help, Quinn finds a reason to move on. The dangerous situation around them quickly escalates and together they face an unimaginable evil. Can they survive the darkness and make it through to the light on the other side?


Excerpt:


Jason
Something roused me from my deep sleep but when I opened my eyes, what I saw didn't make sense: a dog. A dog standing upright? I closed my eyes, but when I opened them again, the dog was still there. I woke up enough to realize it wasn't an actual dog but a man dressed as a dog. Not in one of those cutesy, furry dog costumes, but in the leather fetish style. The kind of costume for the hard core kink guys into puppy play. Not my scene, though I did spend a week with a guy who was very into it. I didn't mind the mask or the butt plug dog tail, but I just didn’t care for the barking.
“Who are you?” I demanded. “How did you get past my security?”
Leather Dog chuckled but didn't answer the questions.
“Who. The Fuck. Are you?”
“Someone you don't want to know.” His voice was raspy like he had smoked too many cigarettes. “Hiring Reynolds was not your best decision. Demos keeps an eye on him and his clients. We wouldn’t have known you were in town if you’d gone to someone else. We got pictures of you guys at Mandalay Bay.”
I tried to sit up, but his hand snapped out faster than anything I'd seen before. His fingers wrapped around my throat and kept me pressed to the bed.
“Don't move again, Jay.”
“I was just sitting up.” It was hard to speak with his hand on my throat. “It's not like I could do anything. I'm in bed...naked, and I'm sure you're armed.”
He nodded and pulled back the sheet. I didn't move because doing so might set him off. I had a couple ways to play this: smart and flippant or scared. I'd have to be stupid not to be scared, but I wasn't terrified. I’d been through enough shit to know staying calm even when afraid was important. I decided acting frightened was the best option.
“Are you gonna k-k-kill me?” I stammered.
“Eventually,” he replied, chuckling again. He reached out and stroked my chest. “You're a fine piece of meat. I might have to partake in a few pleasures of the flesh...before I cut your skin from your bones.”
“Please, I'll do anything you want.”
“Oh, I know you will. But taking what isn’t offered is much more fun.” He pulled out a knife with what looked like an eight inch blade, and he ran it around one nipple, then down to my cock.
“Please, don't cut me. I hate blood.”
“Pain and blood are a few of my favorite things,” Leather Dog said with a throaty laugh.
I'd been counting on him being a sadist. Sexual satisfaction was often also a man's weakness. He ran a hand over his leather clad body and down to his crotch. The leather suit was skin tight, and I could tell he was fit and built and had an erection. He cupped his genitals.
“Are you scared, Jay?”
“Y, y, yeah.” I wiped the tears from my eyes.
“Good,” he whispered. “That will make it even better.”
He grabbed my arm and flipped me on my stomach. He was a man who got off on rape and force, but he had mistaken me for someone who didn't know how to take care of himself.
He lay on top of me, and I felt the zipper on his crotch scratch across my bare ass. He held my hands to the bed and I cried out, begging him to stop.
“Yes, cry, boy. Cry out. Beg me to stop.” He roughly pushed his crotch against me. He was desperate for the next part, and for that he would have to let go of one of my hands.
I screamed and begged and pleaded. He laughed harder.
“I’m going to enjoy making love to your tight ass, boy. You’re going to scream.”
He released my left hand and I felt him reach between my ass and his crotch to unzip. My left hand slipped under my pillow, grabbed the hand held six-inch taser I kept hidden there. I reached backward and zapped him on the neck on one of the only bare spots of skin I’d seen. His body shook as three hundred thousand volts traveled through his body. I pushed him off me, he fell to the floor, and I was off the bed and out of the room as fast as I could move.
I knew my escape plan by heart, not that it was very complicated. Unfortunately, the lack of clothes was a problem. I didn't stop to grab even a coat as I ran into the bathroom and locked the door. I didn't think the lock would hold him for long, but I hoped the taser would keep the dog incapacitated long enough for me to get through the bathroom window. The window was small enough that a normal size man couldn't fit through, but thanks to my small stature and flexibility, I could. I undid the lock on the window, removed the block that kept it from opening from the outside and turned off the alarm tied to the window. I jumped when the bathroom door rattled.
“Little boy, little boy, let me come in,” he said in a singsong voice. “Or I'll huff and I'll puff and fuck you 'til you hemorrhage from your ass!”
I wondered how he had recovered so quickly but didn’t slow down and was halfway through the window when he slammed against the door. I expected the door to burst open, but instead the man screamed. Not a cry of frustration at not getting in, but a cry of deep, sharp agony. It didn’t make sense, but I couldn’t stay and figure it out. As I dropped out the window, I heard him smash against the door and he cried out in pain again.
“Poutanas gie!” he shouted. I didn't know what he said, but I knew he was speaking Greek.
I ran as soon as my feet hit the ground. The night was warm and humid, and I started sweating right away.  The hard cement tore my feet apart, but I didn’t stop. Living in one of the worst parts of Vegas was entirely intentional. Every place I had lived in the past several years was in the bad part of town because abandoned homes or warehouses were always nearby.
At that moment, my destination was a church a couple blocks away. This church had access to a basement from outside, making it damn near perfect for me. Still naked as the day I was born, as well as most Friday nights, I ran down the street. Vegas may be busy twenty-four/seven on The Strip, but where I lived it stayed quiet at night. However, a few people wandered around. Most of them were drunk or stoned, but up ahead I saw a white woman with a phone in her hand.
“There's a naked man running down the street,” she cried into the phone. “I'm calling the police,” she told me as I ran by.
“Good!” I yelled. “Be ready to call again when you see the giant leather dog following me.”

I darted down an alley and found my sanctuary. I opened the basement access and slid inside. I had a few items stored there, including a disposable cell phone, food, and a change of clothes. Grabbing the cell, I dialed Quinn’s number.

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