For Arresting Behaviour, one of my main characters is a detective, and the other is a Native American called Quinn. It was a challenge to write his character, because although I have a small amount of Native American blood, and have known several Natives, my life experiences have been markedly different than Quinn’s. Plus – each tribe has its own unique traditions, beliefs and history – much of which is not available to outsiders.
I was very fortunate to have my editor fill me in. It is ironic – one of those serendipitous things – that she used to live in that area, and interacted with the tribal councils through her work. Who knew? She was an endless resource for me, and I think it helped add to the authenticity of the character.
Read on for a sexy excerpt and links ;-)
Native American Quinn and Detective Jake come from two opposing worlds. But when opposites attract, the result is explosive.
The Bondage Butcher has just claimed his third victim, and newly promoted homicide detective Jake Gutierrez is anxious to speak to the one man who has been intimate with all three victims—Quinn Verdugo. The reclusive and mysterious artist and poet stays just out of Jake’s grasp, until one night when they catch him trespassing at his ancestor’s ancient ruins.
Quinn is devastated by the recent murders, and for the men he once dallied with. Not trusting his heart to anyone since a cruel rejection in his teens, he trusts the police department of Mesa, Arizona even less. He is determined to find the bastard who is committing these gruesome murders, and take care of things himself.
When Jake and Quinn finally meet face to face in the interrogation room, both men are startled at the direction things take. Agreeing to work together, they have no idea the dangers they have yet to face. But what is more dangerous – the murderer, or the spark that has been created between the two very combustible men.
He was in dangerous territory by staying alone with the man at his place. There couldn’t be any nonsense going on between them. Besides, Quinn hadn’t exactly invited him over, he had just barged his way in. Now he was feeling foolish. Had he overstepped his boundaries? It was just that he’d been so upset when Quinn had told him about the previous night—a knot of fear had settled in his stomach at the thought of that sick bastard being alone with Quinn, touching him, getting ready to do God-knows-what.
He would be completely professional. He was only there to keep watch. That was it.
It was going to be a long night.
He also needed to head to the station early in the morning to make sure that the whole poetry night sting was set, and brief the lieutenant on his progress. Plus, he had to follow up on the list Quinn had given him of previous partners. He couldn’t just remain glued to Quinn’s side, even if that did seem like a nice idea.
He could feel a stirring in his jeans, and wasn’t sure all the resolve in the world would help him if he were to arrive at Quinn’s place with a hard-on.
They got there ten minutes later, and Jake felt he had himself under control. It was a gorgeous starry night, and he marvelled at the display in the sky this far out from the city lights. That was one of his favourite things about the desert—everything seemed much purer out there.
He jumped out of his truck as Quinn languidly got out of his car then walked towards him. He had the briefest sensation the man was going to punch him or something, because his pace quickened and he moved with such intent. The light from the waning full moon illuminated Quinn’s graceful and sexy form as he drew nearer. Just as he got to him, Quinn reached out, grabbed the back of Jake’s head and clamped his mouth onto Jake’s lips.
His breath was startled right out of him, but all he could do was melt against Quinn’s muscled body, and reach up to twine his fingers in the man’s glorious mane of hair. This was exactly what he wasn’t supposed to be doing, but all reason and sanity had disappeared once Quinn had locked lips with his.
There was nothing polite or reserved in the kiss. It was raw and feral, and everything Jake had dreamt it would be. They used their hands everywhere on each other’s body, as Quinn continued to plunder Jake’s mouth. He felt himself being guided towards Quinn’s front door. At some point, Quinn managed to get it open—no lock as he’d said—and they stumbled inside, still tangled up with each other. Quinn kept pushing Jake farther in, and he began to feel the smallest stirrings of concern.
It’s not right. I shouldn’t—not yet.
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