by
A modern day re-imagining of Sherlock Holmes' most famous enemies!
Following his polite ejection from the SAS at the end of a decade-long military career, Captain Sebastian Moran is at loose ends. Between cheating at cards and freelance jobs as a security consultant, he's just barely managing to keep busy — but when a routine penetration test goes awry, Moran is thrown into the path of a brilliant, short-tempered hacker named Jay Moriarty.
Up until now, Moriarty has worked alone. But Moran is clever, unpredictable, and unlike anyone Moriarty has ever met, and the attraction between them quickly escalates into an intense, confusing relationship.
Together, Moriarty and Moran must face an aerospace executive covering up a deadly secret, a real estate developer who will do anything to climb the social ladder, a famous author funding a hate movement, a holiday resort full of international gangsters, and the treasonous leader of a rogue mercenary company.
Collects the first five installments of Kit Walker's Casefile of Jay Moriarty series, revised and expanded, plus three bonus stories!
Publisher: Independently Published
Genres:
Pairings: M-M
Heat Level: 4
Romantic Content: 4
Ending: Click here to reveal
Character Identities: Gay, Pansexual, Transgender
Protagonist 1 Age: 18-25
Protagonist 2 Age: 26-35
Tropes: Age Difference, Antihero, Badass Hero, Class Differences, Criminals & Outlaws, Forced Proximity, Rescue, Second Chances, Uncommunicative Masculinity
Word Count: 84000
Setting: London, England
Languages Available: English
Series Type: Continuous / Same Characters
Sebastian soon found himself in a converted warehouse loft in Camden. The place was massive—at least by London standards—with hardwood floors, exposed brick walls, and a balcony overlooking the canal; it was, in short, not the sort of place one afforded on an office drone’s salary.
“You’re not really an assistant, are you?”
“Not usually,” said Sebastian’s rescuer; his voice was light and soft, with the precise and carefully innocuous accent of a BBC presenter. He’d ditched the ill-fitting suit in favour of jeans and a soft plaid shirt, worn open over a loose t-shirt; Sebastian had to admit the whole look suited the man much better, especially when the neckline of the t-shirt slipped to expose the soft skin below his throat and the sharp ridge of his collarbone.
READ MOREThere was a pile of unopened mail on the kitchen counter, which Sebastian paused to riffle through. “So—” he lifted an envelope and scanned the address, “—James Moriarty—”
The envelope was snatched from his hand. “Jay.”
“Jay,” Sebastian repeated, correcting himself. “What the hell is Walter playing at? I know for a fact my fee isn’t high enough to kill over, even with the bonus.”
Jay glanced away, avoiding eye contact. “There are some very important files on that server. Files BPA can’t afford to lose track of.”
“They wouldn’t try to black-bag me for that.”
“They would,” Jay said slowly, “if they thought you took the files on purpose.”
Sebastian was developing a suspicion. “And why would they think that?”
“… Because that’s what I was trying to do when you pulled the server.”
Jay was tense, eyes flicking between Sebastian and the exit, clearly anticipating some sort of violent outburst. His fear turned to confusion when Sebastian burst out laughing.
It was, after all, exactly the sort of stunt he’d been tempted to pull on every client he’d had for the past two years.
“All right.” Sebastian struggled to compose himself. “What are these files BPA is so precious about?”
Jay, evidently deciding Sebastian was a maniac, said, “Documentation.”
“For?”
“An automated flight correction system that killed two hundred people.”
It took Sebastian a second to make the connection; when he did, the hilarity of the situation evaporated. “The Sumatran flight. You think they really were responsible for the crash?”
“I can prove it, if you’re done using their hardware to smash kneecaps.”
Jay, easily five or six inches shorter than Sebastian, was nevertheless undaunted as he glared up from somewhere round Sebastian’s chin. Sebastian couldn’t help but smile; he’d held a knife to this man’s throat not half an hour ago, and yet he had the brass not only to order Sebastian about, but to backchat while he was doing it.
Briefly, Sebastian let himself wonder what he’d be like in bed.
COLLAPSE
