What happens when a stalker invades your life? Troy is about to find out. And it looks like he’s in for more than one surprise.
Not long after graduating from high school, Troy Marlowe is finally able to escape from his overbearing mother and stepfamily. He moves to California and into the house he inherited from his grandmother who also left him enough money to attend the college of his choice. To keep from tapping into that money, Troy accepts a job as a stripper in a private, members-only club. Little does he know he has two admirers—one wants to keep him safe while the other is consumed by a sinister obsession.
Deacon Landry served in the Army and started his own security business with his best friend Nelson Mathers. While running a background check for a former associate, Deacon is surprised to find himself falling for the young man in the photo. Now, he’s practically a stalker in his quest to keep Troy safe, but he needs to figure out how to insert himself into Troy’s life.
What happens when a series of murders leads investigators to Troy and Deacon? Who needs to be kept safe, and from whom?
Reader Advisory: This book makes references to prostitution, rape and murder and includes scenes of stalking, abduction and violence.
General Release Date: 29th August 2014
Early hours of Saturday morning, April 28th
The eyes were a cloudy green. They made him wonder how dark a green they had really been. Dozens of people scurried around—crime scene investigators, police, the medical examiners—the location was that of the latest victim of a serial killer who had been dubbed Jack. All three young men had been prostitutes, their throats slit and abdomens mutilated.
But this was LA, 2012, not London in the late eighteen hundreds. Michael Jennings ran his hands over his newly shorn hair. He’d gone for the buzz cut after failing to apprehend another serial killer who seemed to have dropped off the grid. He figured with shorter hair he could cross another distraction off his list. He and his partner Willa Lopez had a couple of theories about it, but with the new case they’d had to put it on hold.
Michael and Willa were on loan to the LAPD from the FBI. They had worked well together on a previous case, and the bureau wanted the camaraderie between the two divisions to continue. Michael looked down at the young man. He couldn’t have been more than twenty, if that. The ME glanced up from her perusal of the body.
“I’ll be able to tell you more tomorrow, but our vic had sexual intercourse before death.” Her matter-of-fact tone belied the sense that everyone working this case was angry.
Nothing had been found at the crime scenes or in any of the victims’ apartments to give them at least one clue to go on. It was beyond annoying. It was as if the perp was deliberately thumbing his nose at them.
Michael frowned. “Besides being rent boys and blond, what do our victims have in common?”
* * * *
Troy Marlowe stumbled out of the private entrance that led to the club where he worked. It had been a long night. He’d been working as a stripper for the past ten months. Luckily his boss Miles Evans had given him the rest of the weekend off. Troy had exams coming up and really needed to study.
He grimaced as he walked toward the VW Golf he’d gotten not long after moving to California. His mother and her husband had told him he couldn’t have his beloved truck if he went against their wishes and moved to California to live his life in the open. He looked up at the sky, silently thanking his grandmother—the only person in his family who actually loved and accepted him for who he was.
Pressing the button on his key fob, the chirp sounded obscenely loud in the brightly lit parking area. He glanced up and waved at the security camera mounted on the wall above his car. He knew Remus was in the booth while his twin Romulus was at the door.
Troy slid into his car and buckled his seat belt before cranking the engine. He laughed when he thought about the twins. After about six months of working at the club and being around the two massive black guys, he’d finally gotten the nerve to ask about their names.
Remus had smiled with bright white teeth in his dark face and told him their adoptive mother was a professor of Latin at UCLA. Troy was stunned when Remus pulled out a photograph of him and Romulus standing with a petite blonde woman. They were both wearing Marine Corps uniforms. Romulus had laughed and said the picture was taken when they had graduated from boot camp in San Diego.
Troy pushed aside all thoughts as he put the car in gear and pulled out of his parking space. He wanted to get home, take a hot shower, fall into bed and sleep until noon. Working weekends until the wee hours, while carrying a full-time load at USC, was exhausting.
The flicker of a flame lit up his face as he sat in a black Land Rover parked in the shadows and away from the prying eyes of the security cameras. It wasn’t like Deacon Landry was worried about someone being stupid enough to try and attack him. He was six foot seven and broad-shouldered with long, lithe muscles covering his frame. Most people avoided him because of that. Others ran or walked away quickly when they saw what he guessed was probably cold brutality in his eyes.
He’d survived an abusive father and ten years in the Army, most of that time as a Ranger. Now, he was head of his own security company. The same company that provided services for Gams, the nightclub on the main floor of the renovated Masonic hall, and Gander, the members-only male strip club upstairs.
Deacon found it amusing that the patrons of Gams were completely unaware of what went on upstairs. But he could understand why. Gams was the home of some of the hottest male and female go-go dancers in LA. He sucked on the end of his cigarette, letting the smoke fill his lungs before slowly blowing it out.
He really wanted to walk away from this new addiction. Smoking was bad enough. He didn’t need the added headache the sexy stripper provided. But for some reason, he was here every weekend either sitting at a table in Gander or hiding in the dark in his SUV.
From the moment he’d first seen a photo of the gorgeous young man, he’d been lost. He sighed, flicking the butt out of the window. He’d swing by Troy’s Silver Lake address and make sure he got home okay. Then he’d head home to jerk off, alone.
Personally, I don’t think I’m as much fun as the cast who lives in my head. But I try. I think it’s the fact that not everyone gets my humor or why I get excited to kill off a character.
Otherwise, I’m a mom. Spawn is reigning holy terror as the teen years roll along. I do have my fun embarrassing him like the day I figured out the real reason he wants to move to Japan. (He thinks the girls are cute. Hee hee.) And yes, you can insert the outraged “Mom!” if you would like because I mentioned this.
I am also one of the co-creators of an online LGBTQ friendly, YA sci-fi/fantasy series called The Ravens Crossing. TRC is a labor of love that we have been crafting for two years and over 1.5 million words.
I guess to sum all of this up I am a One Direction listening LGBT cheerleader, activist, Classics geek, Otaku, mom, and author. I never said I thought I was boring.
You can find me on Twitter (@WestThornhill), sometimes Facebook, my website/blog, or you can email me.
Reviewed by Sensual Reads
West Thornhill has penned an amazing tale with Private Dancer. The tension builds slowly but inexorably while the chemistry between Deacon and Troy is instantaneous. You cannot help but route for a happy...
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Reviewed by Tracy Gee Reviews
Ingenious. A very well thought out plot that wasn’t predictable in any way. The sex between the two is sizzling, there's just enough so that it doesn’t overpower the story. I want to read more...
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