by Sidney Bell
Loose Cannon
By Sidney Bell
Don’t miss this brand-new male/male romance series from Sidney Bell, author of Bad Judgment
Released after five years in the system for assault, streetwise Edgar-Allen Church is ready to leave the past behind and finally look to his future. In need of a place to crash, he’s leaning on Miller Quinn. A patient, solidly masculine pillar of strength and support, Miller has always been there for him—except in the one way Church has wanted the most.
With his staunchly conservative upbringing, Miller has been playing it straight his whole life. Now with Church so close again, it’s getting harder to keep his denial intact. As they fumble their way back to friendship after so many years apart, Miller struggles to find the courage to accept who he really is. What he has with Church could be more than desire—it could be love. But it could also mean trouble.
Church’s criminal connections are closing in on the both of them, and more than their hearts are at risk. This time, their very lives are on the line.
This book is approximately 108,000 words
One-click with confidence. This title is part of the Carina Press Romance Promise: all the romance you’re looking for with an HEA/HFN. It’s a promise! Find out more at CarinaPress.com/RomancePromise
Carina Press acknowledges the editorial services of Anne Scott
Dear Reader,
It’s hard to write about April when it’s the day before New Year’s Eve as I’m writing this. I’m still full of good intentions and big plans for 2017, with my head full of ideas and goals. One thing I’m excited about is my new 2017 reading journal that I’ve created in a 4x6 planner I was gifted. I decided to try tracking my reading a little differently this year and go old-school tracking it on paper versus electronically. I’ve completely decorated it and tricked it out with a reading challenge, TBR lists and so much more. I wonder if I’ll still be using it when you’re reading this! Hit me up on Twitter or Instagram (links at the bottom of this letter) and ask me how that’s going—I’ll show you pictures, too, if you want!
This April, there are plenty of good reads to go in your own reading journal, starting with bestselling author duo Alexa Riley’s next full-length novel, His Alone, which features secondary characters from reader-favorite Everything for Her. A seemingly perfect hero has secrets only Paige can uncover, and his obsession with her becomes her greatest weakness. This sexy, romantic read is available in ebook, audio and print!
Rhenna Morgan’s first book in the Haven Brotherhood series, Rough & Tumble, received many reviews like this one: “Holy Hell what a great book this is! My first read from Rhenna Morgan and won’t be the last.” And now it’s time for Zeke’s story in Wild & Sweet. He doesn’t always play by the rules, and he’ll do anything for the woman he loves. Available in digital, audio and print at online retailers.
We have four fantastic male/male contemporary romance titles this month. Author K.A. Mitchell concludes the sweet but sexy story of Ethan & Wyatt in Relationship Status. As a couple, Ethan and Wyatt have faced jealous exes and disapproving parents, but now they face one of the scariest relationship tests ever: living together. Unfortunately, there’s no syllabus for real life. The first two novellas in this trilogy, Getting Him Back and Boyfriend Material, are now available. You can also buy the trilogy as one bundle in audio and print formats in June 2017.
Sidney Bell, author of Bad Judgment, begins a new series, The Woodbury Boys. In Loose Cannon, Edgar-Allen Church’s violent past is about to catch up with him, and it’s going to put his best friend—aka the man he’s secretly in love with—squarely in the crosshairs.
When a hard-nosed SEAL lieutenant and widower relies on his best friend’s little brother for child-care help, unexpected sparks fly—but will passion be enough to keep them together after the summer? Pick up At Attention by Annabeth Albert, the follow-up to the book readers raved about, Off Base. Both are available in digital and print at online retailers.
For fans of romance author Mariana Zapata comes a long-lasting male/male tale of slow-burn romance from debut author M.K. York. In the high-intensity hospital world, there’s no room for romance between surgical resident Neil and his gorgeous superior, cardiologist Eli, but when a near-tragedy strikes, a new question arises: Is a life without love a greater risk than laying their hearts on the line? Necessary Medicine will captivate you from first word to last.
Science fiction romance fans will be glad to see the start of a new series from Robyn Bachar. In Relaunch Mission, the first in The Galactic Cold War series, Privateer Captain Lindana Nyota faces her most dangerous mission yet, but to succeed she must rely on the one agent in the galaxy she trusts the least—Lieutenant Gabriel Steele, the man who betrayed her and broke her heart. This is a stand-alone romance, but look for the next book featuring secondary characters later in the year!
Maybe you’re craving something a little more kinky and erotic. Debut author Brianna Hale’s Little Dancer can help with that. Abby thought attracting the ire of the theater owner was going to get her fired, but Mr. Kingsolver has other ideas—he wants to be her dom, wants her to call him daddy and will bring her face-to-face with her darkest fears.
Last but not least is the rerelease of paranormal romance Bonded Pair from award-winning author Lauren Dane’s much beloved Cascadia Wolves series. Cade would do anything for his pack family, but his life isn’t complete without someone to share it with—only, he didn’t expect to find his reason for being in the heart and soul of the sister of his greatest enemy. Previously rereleased titles in this series include Wolves’ Triad, Wolf Unbound and Alpha’s Challenge, all now available in digital and print at online retailers.
That’s all for this month, but we’ve given you quite the lineup of romance genres for your April reading! If you’re interested in hearing more about my 2017 reading journal (now I’ll feel like I have to keep it up so I don’t embarrass myself!) you can Tweet me @angelajames or find me on Instagram @angelajameseditor.
Coming next month: two anthologies of paranormal romance, plus much, much more.
Once again, until next month, my fellow book lovers, here’s wishing you a wonderful month of books you’ll love, remember and recommend.
Happy reading!
Angela James
Editorial Director, Carina Press
Dedication
For Ty
Contents
Part One
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Part Two
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Part Three
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Epilogue
Excerpt from Bad Judgment by Sidney Bell
Author’s Note
Acknowledgments
Also by Sidney Bell
About the Author
Part One
Chapter One
2011
It felt good to hit.
After the day he’d had, or rather, after the week—oh, hell, after the life he’d had—it was a jolt of pure electric pleasure up his arm and down his spine to punch this bastard in the face. To watch as his cheeks rippled under the force of the blow.
The guy hadn’t gotten three hits in. Church was demolishing him.
For the first time since he took off (and don’t think about that, not yet, maybe not ever), he could feel his burden lightening. It’d been so long since he’d done anything but put one foot in front of the other that fighting back was sweet and heady, sex and candy.
He was a week and a half past his seventeenth birthday, he hadn’t eaten in two days, and he was going to be sleeping under a bridge tonight, but for now, this moment?
He was winning.
The guy staggered up, and Church only had to bump him to send him down again, a beached whale on the alley gravel.
The glee hadn’t begun to fade yet, but his anger had. The sky had been spitting rain since that morning, and his clothes were damp and heavy, cooling his temper further. He took a look around to figure out where he was. The neon sign of the twenty-four-hour liquor store blazed a couple blocks away. That was where the guy had started following Church to deliver a blistering tirade about Church’s personality and chances in life, just because he’d asked the dude to buy him some beer.
So they hadn’t gone far, which was a relief. When Church got pissed, his brain pretty much shut off. They could’ve swum to China, and he might not have noticed from beneath the adrenaline haze narrowing his vision.
Tired now, Church waited for the guy to get up. When he didn’t move, Church wandered closer, ready to kick in case it was a trick, and saw the blood spreading out in a pool beneath the guy’s head.
That was when Church knew he’d finally fucked up beyond fixing. He’d reached the end of the line, and this time there wouldn’t be anyone arguing that he was a mixed-up kid who had a shot if he could get away from his family. This was all on him, and he was fucked.
As if he could already feel their eyes and hands upon him, he hunched his shoulders. The pressure built, and all he could think was oh shit oh shit oh shit.
Blue, wet nighttime asphalt beneath his pounding sneakers. Murky water splashed and dampened his socks and pant legs. He left the main thoroughfare—which was empty at this time of night anyway—and entered a residential zone. The cramped old houses crouching along both sides of the road had dark windows and lawns marred by junked-up cars or mildewed children’s toys left out to rot.
Church was alone.
He made it about thirty more feet before he realized that if no one was chasing him, no one had seen.
No one would help.
He stopped, panting, and kicked the post of a bank of gray mailboxes hard enough that his toes sang. The need to get lost burned through his veins like heroin. Instead, he swallowed hard and walked up the sidewalk to the nearest house. He rang the bell until someone answered.
“Call an ambulance,” he told the wary old guy through the closed screen door.
Then Church sat down to wait.
2012
On his eighteenth birthday, Church was transferred from Roseburg Juvenile Detention Facility to Woodbury Residential Treatment Center, where he would serve the rest of his sentence. The sprawling campus hosted eleven cottages, a cafeteria and a school serving grades eight through twelve, in addition to offering online college credit to the older guys. The buildings were chipped redbrick, the sidewalks cracked, the walls so thick with their annual coats of paint that they might’ve been load-bearing even without their beams.
None of it—not the cramped rooms or mismatched furniture or the long, solemn lines of marching boys—bothered Church much. According to the brochure they’d given him, Woodbury was supposed to divert first-time juvenile offenders from serving time in prison, offering life skills and therapy to help at-risk youth forge new lives while still holding them accountable for their actions.
Sounded good to him. Church would talk about his feelings from dawn to dusk if it meant the last of razor wire and orange jumpsuits.
He’d been assigned to Monarch cottage, which housed behavioral cases ages fifteen and up. As the female staff member at the desk explained the schedule and rules, he studied the walls behind her: alarm boxes, shelves laden with boxes of blue nitrile gloves and thick binders with labels like Crisis Intervention Plans and Resident Treatment Plans. There was a padlocked bin marked Confiscated in the corner. A whiteboard listed various names alphabetically, with details printed beside them—status within the program, any health problems and any risks posed.
He found his own entry: Edgar-Allen Church, New Admission, None, Aggression.
He supposed that was fair.
When the staff lady was done, she sent him down a long hallway lined with bedrooms rather than cells. Getting a bedroom was improvement number gazillion over lockdown. Not as good as the lack of strip search (currently in first place) but better than finally being back in street clothes. There were alarms on the windows, he’d been told, but the doors didn’t lock.
He wasn’t an inmate any longer. He was a resident.
In the last bedroom on the left, he found two sets of bunk beds and a boy about his age sprawled on one, reading. He was handsome in an earnest, sensitive way, his face narrow, ears sticking out a little. He had a thick mop of light brown curls tumbling over his forehead almost to his strong jaw, and he wore a nervous smile as his blue eyes ran over Church.
Church wasn’t expecting to impress the kid. He wasn’t ugly, but he definitely had some things working against him that people had a hard time getting past. He was tall and lanky-skinny, with overgrown dark hair that stuck out all over, heavy black eyebrows—no unibrow, so maybe God didn’t hate him so much as strongly dislike him—and a big, honking Roman nose. Plus, he was half—Puerto Rican, which didn’t bother him any, but pissed off a lot of other folks for no damn good reason. A guy in school who’d wanted to kiss him had called him exotic once, though, so he had that shit going for him.
For the record, Church hadn’t kissed the jerk. Even at fifteen, he hadn’t been that hard up.
With a nod of greeting, Church claimed one of the naked mattresses and started putting on the sheets he’d been given.
“Hello. I’m Tobias Benton,” the other boy said, sitting up and straightening his collar.
“Church.”
“Nice to meet you.”
When he was done with the bed, Church sat, eyeing his new roommate. He’d learned in Roseburg that there was a wide variety of guys who got in trouble. Some were fuckups, some were stupid, some were mean, some were psychos. This one—Tobias—didn’t give off the usual tip-offs for any of the above, and he didn’t have that beaten-down manner that long-term victims gave off, either. His jeans and shirt fit well, his haircut was good, and his shoes were brand-name. He wasn’t a system kid. He looked like he should be on a sitcom, where problems came bite-sized and always got fixed by the end.
“Guess we’d better get the important stuff out of the way if we’re gonna be living together,” Church said. “Do you snore?”
“I don’t think so. At least, my old roommates never complained.”
“Good. Me neither. You got any pet peeves?”
“Pet peeves?”
“As a roommate. If there’s something likely to set you off, better to mention it now, yeah?”
&
nbsp; “Oh. I like my stuff really neat? Is that one? I’d appreciate it if you didn’t, um, move my things. Or touch them. It’s nothing about you, I promise. I’m just picky about where they go. What about you?”
“Don’t steal anything.”
“I wouldn’t.” Tobias’s eyes widened. “I mean, that’s not my issue.”
“All right.” And now the delicate one. “Are the bathrooms communal here?”
Tobias’s brow creased for a second. It cleared at roughly the same time that his face flooded bright red. “Ah, no. You can take care of that, um, in the shower.”
“Cool.” Church relaxed a bit. He wasn’t a prude by any stretch, but one of the weirdest things about living in lockdown had been getting used to the nightly not-so-furtive sounds of near-strangers jerking off five feet away.
“So what is your issue?” Church asked. “Unless you don’t like to talk about it.”
“Wayward,” Tobias said, as if that explained everything. It did, sort of. It meant regular teenage hijinks taken to extremes, and it covered everything from drinking to joyriding to refusing to go to school. Church couldn’t imagine how this Beaver Cleaver-wannabe had ended up in a place like this. “You?”
“Assault. Here from Roseburg.”
Tobias chewed on his bottom lip. He wasn’t as tall as Church, maybe five-eleven, and though he was built sturdier and no doubt stronger, he lacked that sharp edge that meant he knew how to use it. That was worth more than all the muscle in the world.
“I’m not gonna hurt you,” Church said. “Unless you start something.”
Tobias took a deep breath. “How do you feel about gay people? Is that—is that starting something?”
Church blinked at him. “No. I mean, I’m gay, dude.”
“Oh.” Tobias’s shoulders relaxed so fast Church was surprised he didn’t fall over. “Oh, okay.”
“Do you think they put us in here together because of that? The whole keep-the-gay-away thing?”
“Nah. This is the only room with open beds.”
