Just a tiny taste (totally unedited, of course) of Chapter 19 of Flight of Fantasy (Broken Pattern #2). Blowing Smoke, Broken Pattern #1, will be coming to a Kindle near you on March 5th….

Washington, D.C.
August 12, 2013
3:25 a.m.

Perry leaned against the tiled wall of the shower and fumbled with the shower valve, wincing as the cold spray hit him and turning the valve as far left as it would go. Even when it warmed up all the way, the water in his apartment was barely tepid, which was a pity.

Hauling himself upright, he filled his palms with coconut-scented soap and started to gently clean his shoulders and upper arms. The bruises were nothing to worry about, they’d fade, but he’d need to be careful with the bites. And no strapless gowns for Falcon for a while.

He laughed, surprised by how normal he sounded. He’d show his marks off with pride tomorrow night. Tonight. Whatever. And then, with any luck, they wouldn’t matter any more.

Once he’d taken care of the ragged marks on his shoulders, he grabbed the shampoo and lathered his hair. He hissed, as much in startlement as in pain, as he ran his palm over the back of his head. Probing the lump with his fingertips made him queasy; he backed into the stream of water from overhead, and stared at the red swirling around his feet.

Lochlann’s going to be pissed. The boss was fine if any of his boys wanted to cater to a rougher trade, but it had to be consensual. He’d been adamant, when he’d hired Perry: he wouldn’t let Big Boy get a reputation as the kind of place where a client could get his rocks off with violence.

“Because then I’d have to deal with them, and I hate the paperwork when I kill a client,” Lochlann had explained. Perry was sure he’d been kidding.

Pretty sure.

Yeah, he should have put a stop to it when his last customer decided to “take the fight out of” him by throwing him against the wall. He could have.

But he hadn’t wanted to. He’d needed it.