Welcome to #MidWeekTease
Where it's our job to tease titivate you ad make you wonder—what next. Let's hope I can manage that here...
Eilean Bàs (Death Isle)
Killers don't fall in love...
Kirsten thought her life was over when she met Mac, ‘the Jeweller’, a government sanctioned dispatcher.
Instead it was just beginning.
Admittedly, being kidnapped, tied up, and tortured with sexual pleasure might not have been the best beginning for a relationship, but their instant connection cannot be denied.
There is only the not so small matter of Mac’s job to consider.
He cannot possibly condemn Kirsten to a life lived in the shadows, because there would never be a chance off escape.
The choice is hers to make.
Fantastic cover courtesy of the amazing Jay Aheer
“Fuck it, who’s there?” Mac snarled and rubbed his cock absently, as he remembered the asshole’s last words of ‘watch your backs, they’ll get you somehow. None of you are safe.’
“Speak or sod off and I’ll go back to what I was doing.”
“Mac, sorry but I need you.” That was Milo, the third member of the committee who controlled the island, damn him. Was the asshole’s prophecy coming true? Mac had the uneasy feeling that Milo wouldn’t have called him unless he really had to. He knew Mac was tired, and no doubt randy and had a hot date with his imagination.
“Fuck off unless the island is sinking. I’m in the middle of a cock-hardening wet dream about a blonde German erotica author who’s on her knees in front of me and saying she’s mine all mine.”
Milo’s laugh was tinged with more than a little sympathy. “If it’s who I think it is she’s collared and happily married.”
“So? A man can dream, can’t he? Ah hell, now she’s got up and stalked away. Bratty sub.” Mac sighed and kicked the covers off him. Somewhat damp covers and it wasn’t just sweat on them.
Well it had been a fucking arousing dream.
“Okay” he said, resigned to not getting his rocks off or getting any sleep. “What do you want me to do?”
Half an hour later, dressed in black and with his face camouflaged Mac stood next to Milo and pointed to the security screen in front of them. “So, two somethings that shouldn’t be there. Any clue what?”
Milo shrugged and blackened his own face. “Nope, but they were not far from the bay on the mainland when I saw them. Now they’re getting too close for comfort, so we need to sort them. Which one do you want?”
Mac shrugged. “Makes no difference, does it? I’ll be pissed off whichever one I get my hands on. That was a fucking arousing dream I was in. My cock feels deprived and ready for retribution. God help whoever I catch. The mood I’m in I’d fuck whatever I found, be it male or female. Bugger it. I’m on your left so I’ll go for the one on the left. Who I reckon is heading towards Graveyard Bay so that’ll do for a starting point. Mind you,” he grumbled more because he could than he needed to. Work was work whatever time of the day or night. “The bloody fog is gonna make it difficult.”
Milo swatted him on the back. ‘Not for you, oh eagle-eyes. Okay, you go for lefty there and I’ll go see what the other thing is.”
Mac nodded. “I’ll check the security cameras on the island while I’m at it.”
Five minutes later he left Milo and the boathouse and silently paddled his canoe out from its hidey-hole at the south of the island toward Graveyard Bay. So named because of its eerie skeleton of trees and rocks that looked like headstones.
If whoever it was were intent on reaching Eilean Bàs—Dark Isle in English— undetected they would have been better to choose a night where the wind and waves were up. They’d be a lot more likely to go undetected then. He chuckled as an errant gust of wind rippled the water. And probably drown but then that would be doing everyone a favor.
Mac moved swiftly in his craft of choice. Low, quiet and fast, it worked for him over and above any of the other vessels he had at his disposal. At least in the mist-rapidly-turning-to-fog there would be little likelihood of other boats around, especially at night. The loch might look pretty and tranquil to the tourist who sat on the shores and ate ice creams or threw sticks for their dog, with only a sightseeing steamer or two and the occasional pleasure craft to disturb the peace, but those in the know understood its secrets and undercurrents.
Mac was one of them. He paddled silently as he strained to hear any sound other than his breathing. A heron flew somewhere above him in the gloom, the only indication of its presence the slow flap of its wings. A duck quacked and he lifted the paddle to drift and listen. Another quack answered and Mac was satisfied it really was waterfowl and not a human imitation. He moved on slowly searching for something that shouldn’t be there.
Where was that damned blob? What was it?
Shit, he needed a smoke.
Godalmighty, what was he thinking? He gave it up years ago.
~~~~If you enjoyed this #MidWeekTease and would like to read more, The Jeweler, by Kera Faire, will be out on Wednesday 29th June from Evernight Publishing ~here~ That's today if you're reading this on #MidWeekTease day...Excited is me...
And you can catch all the other #MidWeekTease blogs ~here!
love R x