by
Three years of being the smartest person in the basement will do one of two things to you. It will break you, or it will make you meticulous, highly caffeinated, and completely right.
Peyton Ellis has the evidence board to prove it. Five deaths. Five human victims, all partnered with paranormals, their crime scenes staged, but no evidence left at all. He has the red string, the printed photographs and a judgmental spider for company. What he doesn’t have is anyone willing to believe him.
Then the Paranormal Task Force walks in.
Their lead operative, Menace, is an apex predator who should be terrifying, and absolutely is, until he crouches down on the bullpen floor, picks up Peyton’s scattered crime scene photos, and starts asking exactly the right questions. For a man who has spent years being laughed out of every room, being genuinely heard feels dangerous in the best possible way.
But working beside a growly, fiercely protective shifter while dismantling a murder mystery is complicated enough. Falling for the possessive alpha who refuses to leave Peyton’s side is something else entirely.
An MM paranormal romance for readers who love grumpy sunshine dynamics, competent underdogs, and protective shifters who choose violence, and yet love quietly.
Peyton has spent years being dismissed. He’s about to discover what it feels like when someone powerful refuses to look away.
Cover Artists:
Genres:
Pairings: M-M
Heat Level: 4
Romantic Content: 5
Ending: Click here to reveal
Character Identities: Gay
Protagonist 1 Age: Ageless/Immortal
Protagonist 2 Age: 26-35
Tropes: Alpha Character, Fated Mates / Soul Mates, Office / Workplace Romance
Languages Available: English
Series Type: Continuous / Same Characters
The collision was immediate.
Files exploded into the air - papers scattering like startled birds, photographs spinning, a folder hitting the ground and skidding under a desk. The person stumbled backward and would’ve fallen if Menace hadn’t moved on pure instinct, catching him by the arm.
Human. Male. Someone who looked like he’d been living on caffeine and attitude for at least a week. His wire-rimmed glasses were knocked sideways on his face, tie askew, and his shirt was wrinkled like he’d pulled it straight from the laundry basket without checking for creases.
Then his scent hit Menace’s nose. Coffee and spice, with something sweet underneath, like candy or sugar, mixed with the sharp edge of adrenaline and barely contained frustration.
The human jerked his arm free, shoving his glasses back into place with more force than necessary. “Watch where you’re…” He looked up mid-sentence, then stopped and stared.
READ MOREMenace stared right back.
The human’s heart rate kicked up - not quite fear, but definitely wariness, the kind of prey-animal response people had when they realized they were standing very close to something that could kill them without effort. The fact that the man staring at him had that reaction meant he had more than one brain cell, at least.
“You’re…” The human blinked, then seemed to remember how words worked. “You’re Paranormal Task Force.”
Not a question, more of an accusation.
“Menace.” He didn’t know why he’d offered his call sign instead of his actual name. Maybe because this human looked two seconds away from bolting, and Menace wanted to see what he’d do with the information.
The human’s eyes narrowed behind his glasses. “Of course you are.” He dropped to a crouch and started gathering his scattered papers. “Perfect. Absolutely perfect. Because my day wasn’t bad enough already, I have to walk into a Menace.”
Menace crouched too, picking up the papers closest to him. They were crime scene photos, autopsy reports, and what looked like geographic data with pins marking locations. He recognized the faces in the photos - Margaret Coon. Daniel Reeves. Lexi Hartwell. James Walsh. The papers related to the Couple Murders.
“Where did you get these?” His voice came out in a growl, and the human’s head snapped up, eyes flashing with something that looked less like fear and more like territorial defiance.
“I work here. This sort of thing is my job. Where did you get your interpersonal skills, a hostage negotiation seminar?”
Menace’s wolf perked up with interest. Humans didn’t usually snap back. They either ran, froze, or tried very hard to pretend he didn’t exist. This one looked ready to bite. Very interesting.
COLLAPSE
