Dead Man Stalking

by TA Moore

  “You visited me in the hospital after Madoc rescued me.”

  West licked his lips. “I…. We were lovers, Took, remember. That meant something to me, even if it was just a distraction from Madoc for you.”

  That might have worked a month ago, not now that Took had taken the time to think things through. He was always better when he could hide behind a theory instead of having to fumble with emotions.

  “It was the first time that I was alone,” Took said. “The first time Madoc or one of the Biters wasn’t with me. I remember, because I woke up afraid, as though someone had come in the night and whispered suspicion in my ear. It probably worked better than you thought it would, I was suggestible and there was already so much about my mind I couldn’t trust.”

  West stared at him. “Ridiculous.”

  Took shook his head. “I was wrong about you. I never rated you as a profiler, but you played me like a fiddle for years. Asked just the right questions to make me convince myself, sowed just the right seeds and lied to me about what my psych report said.”

  That took a second. “I didn’t think you were ready,” he said. “The psychiatrists didn’t know about your paranoia, your irrational fears—”

  “They do now.” Took tapped his finger against the DVD case again. “I’m going to tell Madoc about this. If I was you, I’d think of something useful to tell him when he finds you.”

  He turned to leave, but West stopped him on the way out the door.

  “There’s no proof,” he said. “Not of anything.”

  Took studied West’s face in the glass. “I don’t think that matters,” he said. “Madoc loves me. He’ll believe me.”

  “I LOVE you,” Took said as he handed Madoc an envelope and dropped down into the chair on the other side of the desk. “I should have trusted you. No matter what. I want to make that up to you.”

  Madoc stared at him over the desk for a second.

  “You love me?”

  “Yeah,” Took said. “I do, and I know that what I did—what I thought—is hard to forgive, to get past, but I want to.”

  Madoc tilted his head. There was something darkly sensual in the slow once-over he gave Took. It made Took shift in the chair with a slow, familiar cramp of lust. “How?”

  “That.” Took pointed with his chin at the envelope. “It’s the only secret I have left. The only one I remember, anyhow. So now you have it.”

  Madoc turned the envelope between his fingers. “So if you trust me—finally, now—with this, I have to forgive you. It’d be churlish of me not to?”

  “I… not have to,” Took stammered. “I just wanted to… I know I can trust you. Whatever you want to do with that, I know it’s the right thing.”

  Madoc flipped the envelope open and slid out the old, heavy photo. It was one of the only things that Took still had from back then, from the first time he’d shed his life. He’d been nine or ten and Gabriel had him up on his shoulders. They looked happy. Maybe that was why his mother had taken the picture and kept it long enough to give to Took before he left.

  “That’s my father. His name’s….”

  “Gabriel,” Madoc said as he propped the photo against his lamp. He smiled thinly at Took’s shocked expression. “I’m not the profiler you are, but I have done this for a long time. When you thought the Hounds might be involved in this, you kept it a secret. That means you had a connection to them, and he let you live. Family.”

  Took inhaled. “Okay. What are you going to—”

  Madoc leaned over the desk, grabbed Took’s shirt, and dragged him into a sharp, sweet kiss. Blood mingled in their mouths as their tongues tangled.

  “I love you,” Madoc said as he leaned back enough to get words out. “I don’t need an apology. All I need is you.”

  “I should have trusted you,” Took admitted as he crawled up onto the table.

  “You should,” Madoc agreed. He leaned back in his chair and let Took chase his mouth. “And I will point that out in the future, but I still love you. You don’t have to jump through hoops for that.”

  “I would,” Took admitted as he brushed kisses over Madoc’s lips and down his throat. He scraped his fangs over the pale, cool skin and left red marks that faded slowly. “At least one.”

  Madoc pulled him into his lap. “Okay,” he said as he pulled Took’s head back and gently bit his throat. His fangs pricked the skin, dimpled it, but didn’t sink in. Madoc grazed his tongue over the tender spot as he said, “Say it again.”

  “I love you,” Took said. He tensed himself for the sweet slice of pain as Madoc bit down, against the jolt of pleasure as it spread out from there, but instead Madoc leaned back.

  “I have waited a long time to hear you say that,” he said as he studied Took’s face. “Took.”

  “Really?”

  “If you want,” Madoc said. “It’s a stupid name, but if it’s yours…?”

  Took hesitated. Part of him wanted to be Luke Bennett again, but that still felt dangerous. “Took,” he said. “For now.”

  This time Madoc didn’t hesitate as he bit down on Took’s neck. He lapped tenderly at the wound as he hitched Took back up onto the table and leaned over him.

  “Luke. Took. Gabriel’s son,” Madoc promised against Took’s skin. “You’re still mine.”

  More from TA Moore

  You don’t end up an ex-car thief and ex-con because you’re good at resisting temptation… and Cal Tate’s rich new boss is very tempting.

  Cal has always been the bad boy lovers don’t bring home to Mom, but now he’d like someone other than a debt collector waiting for him at home. He has a legit job as a driver with his brother’s company, he’s got a doctor on the hook, and he still can’t help crawling into bed with Joseph Bailey.

  Joe has never met anyone as easy in their own skin as his new driver. Or as ridiculously beautiful. He’s in London to downsize the family business… and to investigate the abusive emails that imply a dark secret around his mother’s death. But unpicking the lies he’s been told makes Joe realize he isn’t sure who is without them.

  When his life falls apart, the only person he can be himself with is Cal. But with the anonymous stalker’s threats increasing, Joe worries that someone will finish the job they started over two decades ago—and end any chance for a happy future between him and Cal.

  Digging Up Bones: Book One

  Cloister Witte is a man with a dark past and a cute dog. He’s happy to talk about the dog all day, but after growing up in the shadow of a missing brother, a deadbeat dad, and a criminal stepfather, he’d rather leave the past back in Montana. These days he’s a K-9 officer in the San Diego County Sheriff’s Department and pays a tithe to his ghosts by doing what no one was able to do for his brother—find the missing and bring them home.

  He’s good at solving difficult mysteries. The dog is even better.

  This time the missing person is a ten-year-old boy who walked into the woods in the middle of the night and didn’t come back. With the antagonistic help of distractingly handsome FBI agent Javi Merlo, it quickly becomes clear that Drew Hartley didn’t run away. He was taken, and the evidence implies he’s not the kidnapper’s first victim. As the search intensifies, old grudges and tragedies are pulled into the light of day. But with each clue they uncover, it looks less and less likely that Drew will be found alive.

  Digging Up Bones: Book Two

  Cloister Witte and his K-9 partner, Bourneville, find the lost and bring them home.

  But the job doesn’t always end there.

  Janet Morrow, a young trans woman, lies in a coma after wandering away from her car during a storm. But just because Cloister found the young tourist doesn’t mean she’s home. What brought her to Plenty, California… and who didn’t want her to leave?

  With the help of Special Agent Javi Merlo, who continues to deny his growing feelings for the rough-edged deputy, Cloister unearths a ten-year-old conspiracy of silence that taps into Plenty’s history of co
rruption.

  Janet Morrow’s old secrets aren’t the only ones coming to light. Javi has tried to put his past behind him, but some people seem determined to pull his skeletons out of the closet. His dark history with a senior agent in Phoenix complicates not just the investigation but his relationship with Cloister.

  And since when has he cared about that?

  A Wolf Winter Novel

  The world ends not with a bang, but with a downpour. Tornadoes spin through the heart of London, New York cooks in a heat wave that melts tarmac, and Russia freezes under an ever-thickening layer of permafrost. People rally at first—organizing aid drops and evacuating populations—but the weather is only getting worse.

  In Durham, mild-mannered academic Danny Fennick has battened down to sit out the storm. He grew up in the Scottish Highlands, so he’s seen harsh winters before. Besides, he has an advantage. He’s a werewolf. Or, to be precise, a weredog. Less impressive, but still useful.

  Except the other werewolves don’t believe this is any ordinary winter, and they’re coming down over the Wall to mark their new territory. Including Danny’s ex, Jack—the Crown Prince Pup of the Numitor’s pack—and the prince’s brother, who wants to kill him.

  A wolf winter isn’t white. It’s red as blood.

  Sequel to Dog Days

  A Wolf Winter Novel

  When the Winter arrives, the Wolves will come down over the walls and eat little boys in their beds.

  Doctor Nicholas Blake might still be afraid of the dark, but the monsters his grandmother tormented him with as a child aren’t real.

  Or so he thought… until the sea freezes, the country grinds to a halt under the snow, and he finds a half-dead man bleeding out while a dead woman watches. Now his nightmares impinge on his waking life, and the only one who knows what’s going on is his unexpected patient.

  For Gregor it’s simple. The treacherous prophets mutilated him and stole his brother Jack, and he’s going to kill them for it. Without his wolf, it might be difficult, but he’ll be damned if anyone else gets to kill Jack—even if he has to enlist the help of his distractingly attractive, but very human, doctor.

  Except maybe the prophets want something worse than death, and maybe Nick is less human than Gregor believes. As the dead gather and the old stories come true, the two men will need each other if they’re going to rescue Jack and stop the prophets’ plan to loose something more terrible than the wolf winter.

  Readers love TA Moore

  Skin and Bone

  “…this book checks all my boxes. I could not put it down.”

  —Love Bytes

  “I would totally read the next book in the series given the quality of writing and emotional engagement I had with the first two books in the series.”

  —Gay Book Reviews

  Every Other Weekend

  “It is nicely twisty and fun, with lots of excitement and unexpected elements that kept this one very engaging.”

  —Joyfully Jay

  “This is an absolute page-turner for me, and I’m becoming a big fan of TA Moore’s work.”

  —The Novel Approach

  Wanted – Bad Boyfriend

  “This was a twist on an enemies-to-lovers trope that was quite entertaining.”

  —Jessie G Books

  TA MOORE is a Northern Irish writer of romantic suspense, urban fantasy, and contemporary romance novels. A childhood in a rural seaside town fostered a suspicious nature, a love of mystery, and a streak of black humor a mile wide. As her grandmother always said, “She’d laugh at a bad thing, that one,” mind you, that was the pot calling the kettle black. TA studied history, Irish mythology, and English at University, mostly because she has always loved a good story. She has worked as a journalist, a finance manager, and in the arts sectors before she finally gave in to a lifelong desire to write.

  Coffee, Doc Marten boots, and good friends are the essential things in life. Spiders, mayo, and heels are to be avoided.

  Website: www.nevertobetold.co.uk

  Facebook: www.facebook.com/TA.Moores

  Twitter: @tammy_moore

  By TA Moore

  Every Other Weekend

  Ghostwriter of Christmas Past

  Liar, Liar

  Take the Edge Off

  BLOOD AND BONE

  Dead Man Stalking

  DIGGING UP BONES

  Bone to Pick

  Skin and Bone

  ISLAND CLASSIFIEDS

  Wanted – Bad Boyfriend

  WOLF WINTER

  Dog Days

  Stone the Crows

  Published by DREAMSPINNER PRESS

  www.dreamspinnerpress.com

  Published by

  DREAMSPINNER PRESS

  5032 Capital Circle SW, Suite 2, PMB# 279, Tallahassee, FL 32305-7886 USA

  www.dreamspinnerpress.com

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of author imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Dead Man Stalking

  © 2019 TA Moore

  Cover Art

  © 2019 Kanaxa

  Cover content is for illustrative purposes only and any person depicted on the cover is a model.

  All rights reserved. This book is licensed to the original purchaser only. Duplication or distribution via any means is illegal and a violation of international copyright law, subject to criminal prosecution and upon conviction, fines, and/or imprisonment. Any eBook format cannot be legally loaned or given to others. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the written permission of the Publisher, except where permitted by law. To request permission and all other inquiries, contact Dreamspinner Press, 5032 Capital Circle SW, Suite 2, PMB# 279, Tallahassee, FL 32305-7886, USA, or www.dreamspinnerpress.com.

  Trade Paperback ISBN: 978-1-64405-338-6

  Digital ISBN: 978-1-64405-337-9

  Library of Congress Control Number: 2019903599

  Digital published September 2019

  v. 1.0

  Printed in the United States of America