M.J. Calabrese has a new Gay/Bi mystery thriller out: “Warrior’s Way.” And there’s a giveaway!
Friends since childhood, Albuquerque detective Eagle Woodard and criminal profiler Adam Coulter are dragged into a serial killer case. Gay couples are being murdered and tortured and the FBI needs their help to capture the sadistic murderer.
Deciding to implement a plan to trap the killer, Adam and Eagle go undercover as an involved gay couple. Or is it really pretend?
Faced with their toughest challenge yet, they must find the active serial killer before he strikes again. With the powers that be not cooperating and the killer proving to be elusive, will Eagle and Adam be able to stop the murderer while navigating their changing relationship?
Please Note: This is the first book in an ongoing story arc. Although the case is solved, the relationship ends on a cliffhanger. Contains graphic violence and scenes of torture.
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Trying not to be too obvious, Eagle looked at the man next to him. It never ceased to amaze him how his housemate could go from extremely hungover to completely sober in a matter of minutes, Uncle Eddie’s remedy notwithstanding.
“Of course, Agent…,” Adam hesitated, unable to remember the FBI agent’s name. He looked up at the other man across from him.
“Kessler, Rick Kessler, Dr. Coulter.”
For an instant pale, blue eyes met bloodshot green. Adam felt out of his element for a moment. He couldn’t explain what was happening, but he found the Agent’s blatant sexual assessment of him unnerving. He couldn’t decide if Kessler saw him as a potential hook up or if he saw him as a rival for Eagle’s attention. Much to his surprise, Adam began to consider rising to the challenge. He felt naked, exposed by the other man’s intense gaze, yet something in it made his cock respond and begin to get hard. Coulter frowned and cleared his throat, forcing his eyes back to the photo he held in his hand.
“I assume you’ve had your own profilers evaluate this killer for you, so why do you need our opinion?”
“I’m not looking for a second opinion, Doctor. I think our forensic psychologists have this guy pegged.”
“Guys, plural, Agent Kessler. Whoever wrote the words on the victim’s chests is left-handed. The person who tore the duct tape and tied the victims up is right-handed. One is very organized, detailed, bringing the equipment they need to accomplish this extensive mutilation and torture.” Adam explained, pointing out the discrepancies. “The other one is disorganized, subservient to the dominant, better organized partner. You would have caught him by now because he would have left some condemning evidence behind. Trust me Agent Kessler. Look at all the incongruencies.”
This time Coulter didn’t allow himself to look up. He was too tempted by this man who pushed all his sexual buttons. Eagle knew nothing about his bisexual tendencies because he’d learned long ago his friend wouldn’t be able to keep his emotions separate from the sex act and this would complicate their relationship. He wanted Eagle, but not at the price of losing him after the fact, when he couldn’t give his friend what he would have demanded…a committed relationship instead of just a one night stand.
This time it was Kessler’s turn to frown. He disliked it when someone, even the noted Dr. Adam Coulter challenged his authority.
“I’ll take your analysis into consideration, Dr. Coulter, but the FBI profilers are some of the best in the world. In their analysis, everything points to a single male perp. We noticed these variants, but our profilers think it is part of his signature or it probably reflects a dual personality in conflict. He seems normal most of the time, holding down a good job, maybe has friends, maybe even a wife until his rage builds to a crescendo and he kills again.”
Feeling more confident within his element of forensic psychoanalysis, Adam turned the photos to Kessler, pointing out more contradictions that indicated a second killer, but Kessler was reluctant to back down. For each argument Coulter set forth, Kessler had a retort. The tension in the room grew as an amused Shelby and a concerned Woodard watched their verbal tennis match unfold. Both waited to see where the ball would finally land.
When it looked as if the contest would be a draw, Coulter’s gaze suddenly faltered, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “Crap! Excuse me. I think I’m going to be sick.” Breaking out in a sweat, he slammed his hand over his mouth and sprinted toward the hall bathroom. Despite the closed door, deep mournful moans punctuated by the sounds of tortured gut-wrenching vomiting cut the silence in the room.
Shelby shook his head, “Did you give him some of Uncle Eddie’s Death Elixir?”
Eagle nodded, “I guess I could’ve mixed up a few of the ingredients wrong.”
Another roar of retching echoed from the hallway. Shelby sighed, “That boy should seriously consider going into rehab.”
My mother now regrets her fateful words she offered the day I came home from our small town library in Palm Springs, California (yes, I’m a Cali girl) complaining that there were no more books to read. “Then why don’t you write some.”
My father never saw his old Remington portable until I entered college and they gifted me an IBM Selectric. By then I had produced at least two dozen unpublishable novels which make me cringe when I read them today.
I found inspiration in innumerable odd jobs (from migrant work as a Date palm pollinator to the person who cleans the washing machines at the launderette to professional Dominatrix) for stories. After a stint in Rehab for Alcohol and Heroin abuse (so when I write those scenes, I know what I’m talking about), I cleaned up and have stayed that way for 29 years. (Me and Sir Elton, LOL). My gypsy lifestyle gave me a unique perspective on the different people who inhabited the Washington, Oregon, Arizona, California, and New Mexico areas where I have lived.
After 3 very bad marriages to men, I finally figured out what was wrong and fell in love with a woman when I lived in Portland, OR 23 years ago. We’ve been married since 2008 (yes it was legal in California at that time). We now live in Asheville, NC and love the people in this liberal and accepting corner of the mountains of North Carolina.
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