Thought this week I’d give you a snippet from the 2nd book in my Steel Door M/M BDSM Romance series: If You Can’t Take The Heat. This book broke a lot of my rules. Including the fact that it has more than 2 points of view. The enemy insisted he get his point across and while the heroes POVs are in past tense, he only spoke to me in present tense. And who am I to ignore such a scary as fuck creep?
This is his POV and from the very beginning of the book.
THE Artist watches, pleasure at the art piece in front of him filling him up. With two fingers, he taps the cheek of the canvas chained to the pipe. “It’s been fun,” he said in a soft voice. “But it is time for the coup de grâce.” He turns away, ignoring the whimpers and cries leaving the throat of his canvas. They are but a soundtrack to another successful evening. For months, the memory of the trickles of blood running down its body and of the beautiful holes, perfectly round, in its skin that he created via his tools, will keep him happy.
Besides. This is his last piece in Seattle. It is time he finds another city to decorate. After all, it is his fourth exhibit in the horribly rainy city. And that FBI agent who was on his tail for months is gone, making it not nearly as fun. Yes. This is it. His final display. A cold smile crosses his features. It is a good thing it will light up the city then.
One by one, he places cans of accelerant around his piece. There is enough here to blow up the entire block. Methodically he unhooks a camera from nearby and quickly sends the videos he recorded from the other three cameras up to one of his websites, knowing the feed will copy to a hundred others within minutes. He takes one more look at his art piece. Late twenties, blond hair, pale blue eyes, no eyelids… not any longer. He hates it when a canvas closes its eyes so it cannot see what he is turning them into so he always cuts those off first. But it is the overall display he finds pleasing. Blood. Bruises. Blemished skin. Purified.
One flick of a lighter held close to the piece’s hair and the beginning of the end is at hand.
Without another look, he walks away. Ten minutes later he is far away from the scene. As the sun has not come up yet, he sees a huge flash of flame in his rear view mirror at the same time a huge “Boom” rocks the air. Another cold smile covers his face as he presses down on the gas.
Time to find a new place for his art. Portland? No. Not again. Boise? He huffs. Not worth his notice. An annoying neon advertisement lights up ahead of him and he glares at it until his eyes fall upon a city name. Dallas. Well, now, that might be just the right place. He hasn’t been to Texas in years. His foot aches to press harder on the gas, but he ignores the desire. It will not do for him to get a ticket while heading home. For now he will sleep easy knowing he has once again finished another piece.
A pleased sigh leaves his lips as he pulls inside his garage and the door closes softly behind him. Tonight he will sleep the sleep of a man who creates beauty from destruction. The joy of producing his art will slowly diminish and chaos will once again reign. He will find that peace again. But not until his next art display.
Shudders. Good thing there’s an FBI man on his tail, isn’t it?
Austin Reynolds always wanted to be a firefighter but an accident when he was 18 killed that dream. Life as a chef, creating wonderful spicy food, fills that void. His monthly visits to feed the hungry firefighters and paramedics of Station 58 help as well. On one of those visits, he meets someone and is instantly attracted.
FBI agent Conrad “Rad” Strauss is on the hunt for a serial killer who tortures and then burns his victims alive. While he rarely finds time for activities outside of work, the need to fulfill the Dom side of him takes him to a BDSM club where he and Austin find they have more than firefighting in common.
As their attraction heats up, so does the pressure from the killer known as The Artist. For he has his eyes on Austin and unless Conrad can stop him, his lover is about to go up in flames.
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