**Apologies to Pride Promotions and author Lissa Kasey. I forgot to schedule this and it was stuck in draft mode till now.**
Now check out the cover for Lissa Kasey's Model Citizen
Book Name: Model Citizen
Publisher: Dreamspinner Press
Cover
Artist: Garrett Leigh
Release
Date: June 22, 2015
Blurb:
Oliver “Ollie” Petroskovic’s life as an international
supermodel was heading in the right direction. He worked part-time for his
brother at his detective agency—Petroskovic Haven Investigations—and had just
bought his dream house. But all that changed when he found his brother dead, a
victim of PTSD-induced suicide.
Almost a year later, Ollie is trying to keep his
brother’s business afloat, but can’t get his PI license. Then his brother’s
best friend, Kade Alme, shows up, fresh from the battlefield after a close
brush with death. Kade is looking for a new life, in more ways than one, and
with PI license in hand, he’s exactly what Ollie needs to keep PHI running.
When one of Ollie's childhood friends gets in trouble,
Ollie feels he has to help. Kade insists on investigating if only to keep Ollie
safe. Neither realizes the danger they’re in as someone tries to tear them
apart before they can find solid ground together.
Pages or Words: 82,000 words
Categories: Contemporary, M/M Romance, Mystery
Excerpt:
Kade pulled up beside a
building that had probably never had better days. At least I didn’t immediately
recognize it as someplace I used to play. “Call him. Tell him to come down.
This doesn’t look like a great place to linger.”
I snorted. Did he miss
the gas station with bars on the windows and bullet holes in the side? “You
want to see the bad side of Oakland? I can give you a tour later.” I dialed
Bob’s number, but the phone just rang and rang. I hung up when it went to voice
mail, and tried again. It was just after five
“Okay, maybe he fell
asleep or is in the shower or something? Let me run up and check.” The building
looked like it had one outside entrance and no secure door. I could pick a lock
if I had to but preferred not to do so in broad daylight.
Kade frowned. “I don’t
think that’s a good idea.”
I pulled the Taser and
pepper spray out of my bag and held them up. “I spray first, and if that
doesn’t stop them, I tase, then run. I’m up on self-defense 101.”
He sighed. “Anything
feels even remotely hinky, you come back down immediately.”
“Sure,” I promised as I
hopped out of the car. “Who even says hinky anymore?”
I made my way to the
door and searched through my phone to find the apartment number. The main door
opened into a stairwell dirty enough to double as Pig-Pen’s playhouse. The
stench of pot drenched the building. Bob was in 310, which meant he was on the
top floor all the way to the left. I followed the brass numbers. The stink of
weed made me dizzy. How could people stand it? It was like sweaty socks left in
the sun too long. Maybe getting high killed the stink or made you not care
about the smell, but I couldn’t imagine enjoying it either way.
I tried to breathe
through my mouth, which only made it worse, forcing me to stop twice to cough.
Finally arriving at the end of the hall, I knocked on Bob’s door and waited.
Nothing. Just an air conditioner running somewhere, or maybe a really noisy
fridge.
“Bob?” I called and
knocked again. “Robert Wilcoxson?” I dialed his number and could hear the phone
ringing inside the apartment, but again no one answered, either the door or the
phone. What the hell?
I tried the doorknob to
see if it was locked. The door snicked open and swung inward. I hesitated and
debated calling Kade for a minute because the whole scenario screamed bad
horror movie. But I pushed the door wide, Taser aimed like a gun, finger on the
trigger while I clung to the walls, pretending I was SWAT. I had taken official
classes on how to operate the Taser. I’d even experienced its sting myself, so
I knew I could and would pull the trigger if someone jumped out at me. At least
no one was behind the door. The apartment was dark, with all the blinds drawn
to keep out the bright California sun and let the shitty air conditioner do its
thing.
The counters were piled
with dirty dishes and packaged foods. The carpet had seen a couple dozen years
and was stained too badly to recognize the original color of the hideous shag.
The walls were the dingy white of most apartments with a smoker, though all I
could smell was weed. The guy needed to open a window. I was starting to feel
lightheaded, but at least it appeared there was no axe murderer ready to jump
out at me.
“Bob?”
Still nothing. A glance
at the single bedroom proved it was empty and a petri dish of brewing bacteria.
Okay, I was a bit of a slob, but crap, never like this. The stench of shit made
me gag. Or maybe that was the weed. I’d probably breathed enough of that crap
to give myself a buzz for a week.
The bathroom door was
slightly ajar. I headed for it just as my phone rang. “What?” I answered, a
little annoyed. Didn’t he trust me?
“What’s taking so long?
It’s been like ten minutes,” Kade said.
The stink intensified
near the bathroom. I pushed the door back, and the smell wafted over me like a
living thing. It took a minute to make sense of what I was seeing. Bob—well,
presumably Bob—hung from the shower rod. His face was purple, eyes bulged out,
and his mouth was contorted in a silent scream, teeth bared in a grimace. He
was naked from the waist down, with only a leather harness on top. His dick
hung lower than any dick had a right to—past his knees—dark purple and huge,
filled with blood.
“Fuck! Oh fuck!” I
swore, bile rising in my throat.
I raced from the
apartment, barely making it to the hallway before heaving up tea and stomach
acid on the puke-green carpet. The phone dug into my palm, but I clung to it
like it could somehow erase the memory of the past five minutes of my life.
Muffled curses trickled over the line.
Kade appeared a moment
later, huffing and out of breath, his limp heavier than normal. He was without
his cane, but I couldn’t recall him bringing it with us when we left the
office. He wobbled like a picture out of focus. Or maybe that was just me.
“What the fuck? Talk
about giving me a heart attack. I thought you said you’d tase and then run.
Fuck, Ollie.”
“He’s already dead,” I
grumbled at my shoes and heaved a little more. The hallway twisted and turned
around me like a multicolored circus tent on a Tilt-A-Whirl.
Kade stepped around me and disappeared into the apartment.
He was back seconds later, cursing and dialing his phone. He wrapped an arm
around my waist and led me toward the exit. Fresh air had never tasted so sweet
as when he dropped me unceremoniously next to my illegally parked VW. Whatever
he said to the cops had them arriving in a hurry. Probably a first for the
residents around here. I laid my head against the front headlight and shut my
eyes. Maybe the swirling would stop.
Sales Links:
Tour
Dates & Stops: May 22, 2015
Multitasking Mommas, Parker Williams,
Cate
Ashwood, MM Good Book Reviews, Nephylim,
Divine
Magazine, Elisa - My Reviews and Ramblings, Love Bytes, Fangirl
Moments and My Two Cents, BFD Book Blog, Inked Rainbow Reads,
Bayou
Book Junkie, Dawn’s Reading Nook, Wicked
Faerie's Tales and Reviews, The Fuzzy, Fluffy
World of Chris T. Kat, Molly Lolly,
Rainbow
Gold Reviews, Mikky's World of Books, Scattered
Thoughts & Rogue Words, Velvet Panic,
My Fiction Nook,
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Reviews, Rants, and Raves, Vampires,
Werewolves, and Fairies, Oh My, Wicked
Faerie's Tales and Reviews, It’s Raining
Men, Michael Mandrake, Happily Ever
Chapter
Lissa Kasey lives in St.
Paul, MN, has a Bachelor’s Degree in Creative Writing, and collects Asian Ball
Joint Dolls who look like her characters. She has three cats who enjoy waking
her up an hour before her alarm every morning and sitting on her lap to help
her write. She can often be found at Anime Conventions masquerading as random
characters when she's not writing about boy romance.
Where to find the author:
Twitter:
@parisbvamp
Website: www.lissakasey.com
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/lissa.kasey
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