Tackling Danger: A Gay Mystery Novelette

Tackling Danger: A Gay Mystery Novelette

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In the dimness of a defunct frat house, an undercover journalist and mistrustful linebacker must unite. Their mission? To expose the dark secrets of a fraternity known for its vicious members and hazing practices. But as they delve deeper, their pursuit becomes deadly, and their bond transforms into something neither expected: a perilous romance.

SKU: GF101 Category: Tags: ,

Description

Tackling Danger is a standalone novelette laced with intrigue and homoerotism. It will keep you on the edge of your seat until the very end with twists and turns at every corner. So, dive into this story of suspense, forbidden desires, and the fight against a corrupt brotherhood.

Read a Sample

A frat boy and his adviser yelled obscenities at each other inside the defunct chapter house. Feelings there had been running high in the wake of a hazing death. Their shouts rattled the windowpanes. Yet, the context remained an inaudible mystery. Only the harshest insults reverberated in the front yard before they mentioned my name: Diego León.

A frisson of unease rippled through me. What did I have to do with their heated argument? I stopped washing a 1967 Chevy Impala on the driveway when I heard a deafening slam. My eyes darted toward the building that I’d been guarding for a month.

The colonial-style house was tucked away at the end of Fraternity Drive in Rubydale, Pennsylvania, and backed onto the hills. The brick facade melted into the blooming red maples like a drop of blood in a cascade of wine. Atop two stories, black shingles absorbed the reddish hues of the sunset. It glinted off the windows with wrought-iron shutters and silhouetted a hooded figure who peeked from behind the drapes upstairs.

Hair curled in my nape. Was that another frat member? They’d been sneaking into the house despite the permanent ban and hunting with crossbows nearby. Scarcely had I shuffled a step backward when he vanished. My ass bumped against the slippery trunk of the car.

The front door swung open.

Jake Hudson stormed outside. The 21-year-old was taller than a step ladder and tackled football players for sport. His Viking thighs stretched his joggers. So much sweat soaked through his pullover hoodie that it clung to his powerful torso like latex. The pompadour complimented his square face, his chiseled jawline radiated manliness, and his hazel eyes gleamed with anger.

A sudden stillness seized my limbs, locking me in place. Never had a furious man emanated so much sex appeal. My eyes flicked around his physique and came to rest on the wrinkled paper in his hand. The paper fluttered in the wind like a harbinger of bad news as he thudded down the paver pathway.

“What’s wrong, Jake?”

His silence produced profuse sweating in me. I was twenty-one too, an inch shorter, and posing as a caretaker. My bronze eyes couldn’t endure his glare. When I bowed my head, my brunette curls spilled over my forehead. I raked them back, unzipped my Sherpa jacket, and jammed my hands into my jeans pockets.

Accordingly, his gaze dropped from my eyes to the muscles rippling under my T-shirt and paused on my bulge. Jake didn’t seem to care that I was a hung twunk who usually turned heads. He cast his eyes up and handed me the paper with his lips pressed flat.

It was a check payable to me. I whipped through it, reread it line by line, and still couldn’t believe my eyes. As they narrowed in suspicion, I smoothed the check and saved it in my pocket.

“This is unlike Mr. Bennett,” I said. “Did you talk him into writing me a check?”

“No, but I wonder what you did to earn a big tip.”

“Nothing other than my job. I’ve been catering to his eccentricities all day long.”

“So, he just waltzed in—”

Whoosh! A deadly arrow flew from the shadows. It struck the rear tire and barely spared my leg from a gruesome wound. The rubber burst with a hiss like a snake’s warning. A piece of crimson cloth, tied to the fletching, flapped in the gush of air.

Jake rushed to the rescue faster than a bodyguard. His protective arm encircled me with muscles tense and poised for action. He yanked me behind the car, seeking immediate shelter. As we ducked, his gladiator body shielded me from another shard of steel.

A rush of adrenaline swept over me. I would’ve been bleeding out if someone wanted me dead. What sinister motive lurked behind his warning shot? My eyes wandered around like a caged animal, but he’d disappeared again.

“Are you okay, Diego?” 

I nodded, but my body assumed an unwavering stillness when our eyes met. A silent attraction passed between us as a tempest of thoughts whirled within the labyrinth of my mind. Why had that psycho shot at us? I frowned in a futile attempt to understand his intentions.

The answers teetered dangerously near the abyss of revelation. Jake and I squatted to the flat tire and examined the arrow. A piece of paper, rolled and tied with the crimson cloth, hung from the shaft. The paper was covered with newspaper cutouts, spelling out a message in jagged letters. Barely had I glimpsed it when Jake jammed it into his pocket.

“I-It’s just a mischievous prank,” he stammered. 

“What did it say?”

His response was a sepulchral silence. He climbed to his feet, cleared his throat, and shifted from foot to foot. When he adjusted himself, I leered at the massive bulge that was temptingly close to my lips. The mere thought of his manhood made my mouth water, but not for long. He cupped his hands around his package. The instant he caught me staring, I averted my eyes.

“Anyway,”—I stood— “thanks for bringing me the check.”

“Don’t thank me just yet. I haven’t told you what’s the catch: Bennett summoned you to his room.”

“What the hell does he want now?”

“To get his money’s worth, I bet.”

My jaw clenched as a surge of heat coursed through my veins. His tone carried the insinuation that I was a hooker. But I restrained myself from berating him for his stereotyped ideas of Latinos. A confrontation might’ve blown my cover. So, I snorted and stamped toward the front door. 

I didn’t trust Jake or Bennett. There was something odd about them, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. I paused with my hand on the doorknob. What dark secrets had they buried here? The suspicion of wrongdoing arose as I headed toward the laundry room. And my journalistic instinct urged me to blow the lid off the story.

This is the end of the sample. Buy the gay mystery novelette in digital format to immerse yourself in a tale where passion and suspense collide.

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Additional information

Print Length

30 pages

Word Count

10,000 words

File Format

.pdf

File Size

149 KB

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