Hurri Cosmo has a new MM paranormal ghost romance out: The Ex's Boyfriend. And there's a giveaway!
Mark has always been a Dominant. The Top in every relationship. Just ask Leon, his very ex-boyfriend, because that’s what he told Mark he was.
Okay, Mark’s only had the one relationship so the ‘always’ was a reach, but it didn’t matter. It was more than over with now, and Leon was long gone. That is until Leon felt it necessary to show off his new boyfriend, a gorgeous mountain called Rogan, by evidently telling him that Mark was stalking, bullying, badgering, harassing and get this, abusing him.
“He’ll kill you, Mark, because he loves me and wants to protect me.”
From whom? Skinny little Mark? What a joke. Because all Mark has ever done was exactly what Leon told him to do and that now included staying as far away from Leon as he could get. But how can he do that when Leon is hell-bent on proving all the lies he’s told Rogan about Mark were true, and by any means possible except the actual truth? Thankfully, it seems Rogan’s not quite as clueless about Leon’s wild imagination as Mark has always been. In fact, the big, beautiful man has come to Mark’s rescue a couple of times and has made it clear, Leon and he are not a thing. At least, not anymore.
Which is good since Mark is going to need Rogan’s help. Mainly because something else is out to get Mark. Something not Leon.
This something isn’t even human…
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They took the elevator to the sixth floor and headed cautiously down a deserted hall. Okay, maybe it was only Mark who walked warily. Rogan marched slightly ahead of him and seemed to barge down the hall with his chest puffed out like some storybook bodyguard protecting the prince. However, no apparitions flew out at them this time, no lights exploded trying to kill them. When they got to Mark's apartment, Rogan snatched the set of keys Mark dug out of his pocket and opened the door of 612 and attempted to turn on the light.
“It doesn’t work,” Mark remarked. “It never has.”
As if that might have been important in the whole scheme of things, Rogan turned to him. “Really? Why?”
“I have no idea. They have never been able to fix it, either.”
Rogan grumbled a string of profanities against landlords as he pulled out his phone. “Hey Raptor. Flashlight.” The phone shot out a bright beam and Rogan shined it into the apartment. “Where is a switch that does work?”
“Right here.” Mark glanced around the apartment before he tiptoed over to the switch in the kitchen and turned it on. The apartment lit up enough to see that everything was normal―so to speak. The destroyed TV was right where it had been when they left, debris still everywhere. Not the chaos Mark had walked into with Leon, but shivers of that time chased through him as well. “What I don’t get is why you don’t even have a scratch on you.”
“That is a mystery,” Rogan murmured. “What’s even more an unknown is why you were basically sliced in the first place. Cut, I would understand. But sliced?” He walked over to the large, jagged piece laying against the wall, the piece that had been laced with blood but no longer appeared to be and picked it up. “This should never have been sharp enough to do that.” He brought it over for Mark to see.
“Fuck,” Mark whispered as he gazed at the piece of plastic. “It’s… like a knife.” And it was. The six-inch, razor-edged side appeared paper thin, to the point of it being see-through. As if someone had purposely honed it down to that sharpness. “But… didn’t it have blood on it?”
Rogan narrowed his eyes and glared back at the plastic as if it had just lied to him. “You’re right. It did. Exactly my point.”
Rogan glanced briefly at Mark. “This isn’t right. I mean, how does something like this even happen?” Rogan’s lips pursed together.
“So, what are you saying?”
“I’m not sure.” Rogan gazed down at Mark. “And I don’t like not knowing. I will find some answers. That I promise.” He sighed. “Now what do we need to take with us so we can get out of here?”
Mark packed a backpack while Rogan kept watch. Mark would have thought it laughable if he wasn’t so panicked. It was one thing to be bullied by Leon. Quite another by a ghost.
“The extra apartment key is in the kitchen drawer,” Mark told Rogan as he threw the backpack over his shoulder.
Rogan immediately reached over and grabbed the backpack. “Go get it. I got this.”
Heat climbing Mark’s face he walked quickly to the drawer. “I can carry it. I’m not a princess.”
Rogan smirked but remained silent as he adjusted the backpack and held out a hand to accept the key. “Thanks,” he said, winking at Mark when he dropped the key in his hand.
“I don’t know what you plan on doing but have at it.”
Rogan grimaced as if he were guilty of something and shook his head.
When they arrived at Mark’s dad’s house, Rogan insisted on walking Mark in. “I didn’t keep you safe like I promised. He deserves an explanation.”
“Are you kidding me? I’m not some fragile teenager on a date. Besides, I can take care of myself.”
“I know that. But security is my job, and I should have…”
“Should have what?”
“Known.” He knocked on the door.
“Known? How? Why?”
But Rogan remained silent. Except it was clear he was battling something in his head.
“Whatever,” Mark mumbled. “Just… I can take care of myself.” Mark went to knock as well but the door flew open in front of him, Mark’s dad standing on the other side.
“What the fuck is going on out here?” Rob snarled, startling both Mark and Rogan.
“Sir!” Rogan nearly shouted back, gaining the older man’s attention. Then he lowered his voice probably realizing how loud he was being. “Mr. Corda. Sorry to wake you…”
“What the hell happened to you?” Rob grabbed Mark and pulled him into the house. “Why the bandages?” He turned his attention back to Rogan. “Why is my son covered in bandages?”
Mark took immediate offence. “Dad, I’m standing right here! Ask me!”
“Um… sir…” Rogan interrupted. “it’s a long story.”
2nd Excerpt - Exclusive
What the hell?
Where on earth did that kiss come from?
Okay, not a true kiss. Just a brush on Mark’s amazing lips. And all it did was make Rogan want so much more.
And make him feel ― what? Guilty? Yes. That seemed to be one of the many emotions he was experiencing right now. But how had he allowed himself to lose control for even one moment and do… that? It wasn’t bad. Far from it. In fact, the fleeting touch had sent shivers through him. How long had it been when such an innocent act had so stirred not only his heart but his entire body?
Was it a problem?
Rogan sighed. He wasn’t sure. There was that shimmer last night. If he didn’t know better he would think… But how much sense did that make? It was at Mark’s apartment, so it couldn’t have been related. Some other anomaly then? The building appeared to be old so…
For the moment it didn’t matter. Rogan also didn’t want to lead Mark in a wrong direction. Like letting him believe a new relationship was possible. Mark was not ready for that. Not yet.
Are you? breathed a voice in his mind.
God no. A relationship? Like… like…
No. He wasn’t going to think about that.
Rogan wasn’t ready either. Probably never would be again. Still, he had lost control and kissed Mark. And it felt good. Right. When was the last time that happened?
Again, not going there.
He had certainly not planned for the kiss to happen, that’s for sure. He had simply been proud he had kept Leon from the knowledge Mark was in his vehicle. And even though it hadn’t been a difficult task in the least, for some reason he wanted to crow about it to the smaller, seemingly vulnerable man. A man who had put his trust in him to do just that. He needed Mark to understand Rogan picked up on the situation and had done it just for him. Been the savior, the strong protector. For real. Not pretend or… make believe.
Not what he experienced at The Shipyard which was superficial and unimportant. Play is what they called it and that was exactly what it was. Sure, there was the whole element of figuring out the sub, especially someone new to the scene, taking him to his limit and pushing just enough beyond. But at the same time, knowing exactly where the true limit was and keeping him safe. It was his role, as the Dominant, to understand when a sub should use his safe word, even if they did not.
Rogan had been told by many he had an unusual talent for it.
Yes, Rogan was well sought after by many who loved the game. He was not only excellent at bringing powerful release and intense satisfaction with his whip and flogger alone, but he was also deeply trusted. Which was why Anna called on him whenever she had a new member to the club. He was looked up to, revered. Highly respected.
But none of it was real. No one was saved by his talent. Their mental kinks were explored and gratified, sure, and most were even sexually fulfilled, if that’s what was wanted. Even if Rogan never touched them in that way. But not one of them were actually, truly in need of protection – other than from themselves. There was no exchanging of phone numbers, addresses, or life goals. There was no deep mental connection or promises made other than to maybe hook up again if the situation was right. Not that some hadn’t tried for more. Like Leon. But – Rogan didn’t want that. No commitments. No responsibility for anyone beyond the dungeon. He had no desire at all to ever fall in love again. Not even to fall in like.
“Rogan, please! I was wrong. I need you! Save me!”
“You don’t have to do this, you know.”
Rogan snapped back to inside the truck. Back to Mark. “Do what?”
“This. It’s obvious you’re busy. I mean, you’re preoccupied with something, and I don’t want to… I can certainly go get a phone by myself,” he finished in a tone that made Rogan think he was anxious.
Rogan glanced at Mark, sitting in an almost defensive position as far away on the other side of the truck as he could get, picking and swiping at his jeans. Damn. Talk about guilt. He quickly leaned over and laid a hand on Mark’s fidgeting fingers.
“No. I was just thinking I shouldn’t have done that. I surprised you with that kiss and I was wrong to do it without your consent. We aren’t even dating yet. I had no right. But honestly, it surprised me too. However, I’m not sorry I kissed you. Even if you tell me you never want me to again, especially if you tell me you never want me to again. I’m glad it happened.”
Rogan was many things and he liked to think one of those was honest. He would always be honest. If Mark hated him for it, so be it. But Rogan wasn’t ready to believe that was the case.
Then a magical thing happened. Mark turned his hand so that he could intertwine his fingers into Rogan’s. He refused to raise his face to even glance at Rogan to see Rogan’s reaction, but Mark’s very red cheeks and neck were all the evidence Rogan needed to know how Mark felt. Not to mention the sensation of his rapid heartbeat pounding in his sweaty fingers. Or observing that pulsing warm sensitive spot on Mark’s throat. A perfect place to mark the man while he pumped him full of his essence.
Not that that meant any sort of commitment.
“I liked it, too.” Mark breathed.
I am Hurri Cosmo and I live in Minnesota where I hold tight to the idea that here, where it’s cold a good part of the year, I won’t age as fast. Yep, I avoid the truth as much as I avoid mirrors. But one of the reasons I love writing is reality doesn’t always offer up a “happily ever after” and being able to take control of that is a powerful lure.
Being a happy ending junkie, writing just makes them easier to find. Oh, I don’t mind “real life” and I do try to at least keep it in mind when I write my stories, but I truly love creating a wonderful couple, knowing they will fall in love and have their HEA. Every - single - time. And, of course, that is exactly the reason I love reading this genre, too.
Give me a glass of red wine, some dark chocolate, and my computer, whether I am reading or writing, and I will entertain myself for hours. The fact I actually get paid to do it is Snickers bars on the frosting on the cake.
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