Hitting Black Ice
Heart and Haven Book 1
by Heloise West
Genre: M/M Contemporary Romantic Suspense
Shawn is on the run from the law and love, to protect himself and anyone else involved. Until he meets Hunter, and he no longer wants to run.
ER physician’s assistant Hunter guards his heart carefully, but that doesn’t stop him from falling for the temp front desk clerk. He keeps his distance from relationships for a good reason but just can’t help himself when it comes to Shawn.
Forced into a hostage situation, buried passions explode in the aftermath, and sex in the supply closet brings both their hearts back to life. But as they explore their relationship, the past catches up with Shawn.
FBI agent Nick Truman has finally found his man, and when Shawn escapes, he focuses his attention on Hunter. Will Shawn sacrifice himself to save Hunter from the man who framed him for murder?
On Monday, a little after seven in the morning, Hunter stood in the open ambulance bay as the cold wind between the buildings whipped bits of trash and new snow around. A hard blast slapped at his head and pushed a flap of hair into his eyes.
“Should shave my hair off,” Hunter said to Marisa.
His friend smoked a cigarette despite constant harping from Hunter to stop. Only one or two a day, she said, escaping her husband and kids to step out into their backyard to light up or, like now, at the end of her shift.
“Don’t you dare.” Marisa exhaled a final plume of smoke mixed with the pale steam of her breath. She dropped the butt and ground it out beneath her thick-soled shoe, then picked it up and flicked it unerringly into the bin at the hospital entrance with a smile. They weren’t supposed to smoke on hospital grounds, but it was too dangerous to go off-campus and into the neighborhood.
A man pushed through the doors of the ER.
“Here’s our Shawn,” Marisa said in a low voice.
“He’s not ours,” Hunter said. “He’s someone else’s.”
“You didn’t!”
“I did after you left. He turned me down and told me he was with someone.”
Shawn had dressed for the February weather in a gray hoodie under a black denim jacket and a Red Sox cap. With a long, loping stride, he stood about an inch taller than Hunter. He tipped his face up from under the bill of the cap, caught Hunter’s eye, and smiled.
“The hell he is,” Marisa muttered.
“Hey.” Hunter smiled back because he couldn’t help it. He’d avoided Shawn most of the night shift and planned on going back to an earlier dinner break for the rest of his life. Yet he missed seeing Shawn. The hookup he’d taken to his bed last Friday night and who spent the weekend hadn’t made him feel like this. They’d had some laughs, yet Hunter had been relieved when the guy left. Hunter’s heart skipped a beat when Shawn stopped and said hello to Marisa, then turned to him. Something fizzy and sweet bubbled in his veins, tingling under his skin. His heart stopped its aching as if a morphine drip were in Shawn’s smile.
“You’re angry at me?” Shawn’s pale brows shot up into his forehead.
“Not at all.”
His blue eyes kindled with relief. “You didn’t have a dinner break at your usual time.”
“No, I didn’t. I—” Hunter turned to Marisa, but she only smiled, I told you so in her eyes. He made himself face Shawn. “I’ll be there tomorrow.”
Shawn’s smile widened. “Okay, good.” He gazed up at the sky and the gathering clouds. “Feels like spring will never get here. February must be the longest month of the year.”
“Aren’t you cold? You don’t have a winter jacket?” Marisa scolded.
“Nah, I’m fine.”
Shawn walked down K Street. He put his hand on top of his cap to keep the wind from taking it and pushed the other hand into his pocket. As he turned at the corner and out of sight, he left Hunter with the impression he was lonely and cold.
“Chuck’s late. He’s usually waiting for you,” Hunter commented.
Hunter didn’t like to leave until Marisa’s husband arrived with their two small girls to pick her up. She opened her mouth to answer, but three gunshots blasted out into the low hum of traffic.
“Shit,” Hunter said. The shots came from the same direction Shawn had gone.
Screaming and shouting erupted, muted by the buildings standing between the shots and them. The notorious neighborhood drug corner, open for business day and night, lay in this direction. It sounded like they got who they came for.
Two more shots and the screech of tires followed as a big black SUV came around the corner and passed them. It barely missed Chuck as he pulled into the parking lot with the girls. Chuck leaned hard on the horn.
Marisa dialed 911 as Hunter began the run down K Street, but halfway there, Shawn turned the corner with a young black man dressed in baggy jeans and an over-sized sweater. He leaned heavily on Shawn, who had an arm slung around him. Hunter recognized the guy as one of the street-corner drug thugs, as Marisa called them. He bled from a wound to his leg, his eyes wild with pain and panic as he limped along.
“Anyone else hurt?” Hunter flung the guy’s other arm around him. Damn if he didn’t hear the screech of the SUV’s tires behind them as it came around again.
“No, just him. Faster,” Shawn urged the wounded man. “They’re coming back.”
“Hurts like a motherfucker. I’m gonna kill those motherfuckers. Motherfucker!”
Marisa ran for the ER, shooing her husband and kids inside, as the big black car turned the corner again. The boom of the bass increased as they lowered the window to take another shot at their prey. Marisa returned with a determined expression and a first-aid bag under her arm.
“Marisa! Stay back!” Hunter yelled.
“Mommy!” her daughter shrieked from the doorway of the ER, stopping her cold
“We’ve got him. Get to cover!” Hunter shouted at her. She turned back. When she got to the ER doors, Chuck ran out and yanked her inside.
“Fuck it if it hurts. Run for it!” Shawn pulled at the wounded man.
They ran, and gunfire followed, shattering one of the glass doors before it shut behind them. Sirens wailed in the distance, and Hunter hoped it was coming for them. A couple of doctors ran up and pushed the bleeding man, still cursing and griping, onto a gurney, then wheeled him down the hall to one of the exam rooms.
Shawn stood beside Hunter, watching them go. Hunter grabbed Shawn’s shoulder, shoved aside his open jacket, and found a few small spots of blood.
“Shawn, are you hurt?”
Shawn turned empty eyes on Hunter. He shook his head as if to clear it before turning away again.
“Sure, you’re all right?” Hunter persisted.
“Just reaction.” Shawn held up a trembling hand.
Hunter winced. “You did good, kept your head. Saved the guy’s life. Let’s get you something clean to wear.” Hunter patted him, reassuring himself.
Behind the nurses’ station, Hunter opened a drawer full of scrubs and found a shirt for Shawn, who slipped into the men’s room to change. When he came out again, Hunter dropped the hoodie and T-shirt into the biohazard bin.
Shawn flashed an incredibly sexy grin as he shrugged into his jacket, aimed his direct blue gaze into Hunter’s, and held him there for a heartbeat before turning to leave. “Thanks.”
As Shawn walked away, he raised a hand to Marisa and Chuck arguing in fierce whispers by the nurses’ station. One of their kids waved back, and he nodded. Just before the entrance to the ER, he stopped, and Hunter thought he meant to button his jacket.
The big black SUV had been driven up onto the sidewalk in front of the ER. The first police car screeched into the parking lot as two men got out of the SUV—white, older than the wounded drug dealer, heavier and harder appearing, with guns, already drawn. With the SUV in front of the doors, no one was getting in. And no one was getting out.
“Should shave my hair off,” Hunter said to Marisa.
His friend smoked a cigarette despite constant harping from Hunter to stop. Only one or two a day, she said, escaping her husband and kids to step out into their backyard to light up or, like now, at the end of her shift.
“Don’t you dare.” Marisa exhaled a final plume of smoke mixed with the pale steam of her breath. She dropped the butt and ground it out beneath her thick-soled shoe, then picked it up and flicked it unerringly into the bin at the hospital entrance with a smile. They weren’t supposed to smoke on hospital grounds, but it was too dangerous to go off-campus and into the neighborhood.
A man pushed through the doors of the ER.
“Here’s our Shawn,” Marisa said in a low voice.
“He’s not ours,” Hunter said. “He’s someone else’s.”
“You didn’t!”
“I did after you left. He turned me down and told me he was with someone.”
Shawn had dressed for the February weather in a gray hoodie under a black denim jacket and a Red Sox cap. With a long, loping stride, he stood about an inch taller than Hunter. He tipped his face up from under the bill of the cap, caught Hunter’s eye, and smiled.
“The hell he is,” Marisa muttered.
“Hey.” Hunter smiled back because he couldn’t help it. He’d avoided Shawn most of the night shift and planned on going back to an earlier dinner break for the rest of his life. Yet he missed seeing Shawn. The hookup he’d taken to his bed last Friday night and who spent the weekend hadn’t made him feel like this. They’d had some laughs, yet Hunter had been relieved when the guy left. Hunter’s heart skipped a beat when Shawn stopped and said hello to Marisa, then turned to him. Something fizzy and sweet bubbled in his veins, tingling under his skin. His heart stopped its aching as if a morphine drip were in Shawn’s smile.
“You’re angry at me?” Shawn’s pale brows shot up into his forehead.
“Not at all.”
His blue eyes kindled with relief. “You didn’t have a dinner break at your usual time.”
“No, I didn’t. I—” Hunter turned to Marisa, but she only smiled, I told you so in her eyes. He made himself face Shawn. “I’ll be there tomorrow.”
Shawn’s smile widened. “Okay, good.” He gazed up at the sky and the gathering clouds. “Feels like spring will never get here. February must be the longest month of the year.”
“Aren’t you cold? You don’t have a winter jacket?” Marisa scolded.
“Nah, I’m fine.”
Shawn walked down K Street. He put his hand on top of his cap to keep the wind from taking it and pushed the other hand into his pocket. As he turned at the corner and out of sight, he left Hunter with the impression he was lonely and cold.
“Chuck’s late. He’s usually waiting for you,” Hunter commented.
Hunter didn’t like to leave until Marisa’s husband arrived with their two small girls to pick her up. She opened her mouth to answer, but three gunshots blasted out into the low hum of traffic.
“Shit,” Hunter said. The shots came from the same direction Shawn had gone.
Screaming and shouting erupted, muted by the buildings standing between the shots and them. The notorious neighborhood drug corner, open for business day and night, lay in this direction. It sounded like they got who they came for.
Two more shots and the screech of tires followed as a big black SUV came around the corner and passed them. It barely missed Chuck as he pulled into the parking lot with the girls. Chuck leaned hard on the horn.
Marisa dialed 911 as Hunter began the run down K Street, but halfway there, Shawn turned the corner with a young black man dressed in baggy jeans and an over-sized sweater. He leaned heavily on Shawn, who had an arm slung around him. Hunter recognized the guy as one of the street-corner drug thugs, as Marisa called them. He bled from a wound to his leg, his eyes wild with pain and panic as he limped along.
“Anyone else hurt?” Hunter flung the guy’s other arm around him. Damn if he didn’t hear the screech of the SUV’s tires behind them as it came around again.
“No, just him. Faster,” Shawn urged the wounded man. “They’re coming back.”
“Hurts like a motherfucker. I’m gonna kill those motherfuckers. Motherfucker!”
Marisa ran for the ER, shooing her husband and kids inside, as the big black car turned the corner again. The boom of the bass increased as they lowered the window to take another shot at their prey. Marisa returned with a determined expression and a first-aid bag under her arm.
“Marisa! Stay back!” Hunter yelled.
“Mommy!” her daughter shrieked from the doorway of the ER, stopping her cold
“We’ve got him. Get to cover!” Hunter shouted at her. She turned back. When she got to the ER doors, Chuck ran out and yanked her inside.
“Fuck it if it hurts. Run for it!” Shawn pulled at the wounded man.
They ran, and gunfire followed, shattering one of the glass doors before it shut behind them. Sirens wailed in the distance, and Hunter hoped it was coming for them. A couple of doctors ran up and pushed the bleeding man, still cursing and griping, onto a gurney, then wheeled him down the hall to one of the exam rooms.
Shawn stood beside Hunter, watching them go. Hunter grabbed Shawn’s shoulder, shoved aside his open jacket, and found a few small spots of blood.
“Shawn, are you hurt?”
Shawn turned empty eyes on Hunter. He shook his head as if to clear it before turning away again.
“Sure, you’re all right?” Hunter persisted.
“Just reaction.” Shawn held up a trembling hand.
Hunter winced. “You did good, kept your head. Saved the guy’s life. Let’s get you something clean to wear.” Hunter patted him, reassuring himself.
Behind the nurses’ station, Hunter opened a drawer full of scrubs and found a shirt for Shawn, who slipped into the men’s room to change. When he came out again, Hunter dropped the hoodie and T-shirt into the biohazard bin.
Shawn flashed an incredibly sexy grin as he shrugged into his jacket, aimed his direct blue gaze into Hunter’s, and held him there for a heartbeat before turning to leave. “Thanks.”
As Shawn walked away, he raised a hand to Marisa and Chuck arguing in fierce whispers by the nurses’ station. One of their kids waved back, and he nodded. Just before the entrance to the ER, he stopped, and Hunter thought he meant to button his jacket.
The big black SUV had been driven up onto the sidewalk in front of the ER. The first police car screeched into the parking lot as two men got out of the SUV—white, older than the wounded drug dealer, heavier and harder appearing, with guns, already drawn. With the SUV in front of the doors, no one was getting in. And no one was getting out.
Send Lawyers, Guns, and Roses
Heart and Haven Book 2
When Hunter and Alex are given the vacation of a lifetime, it’s a chance for them to pay attention to romance and get out of danger’s path. The tiny Caribbean island of Saba is gorgeous, the first to have marriage equality, and the Sabans are the nicest people on earth. There’s lots of rum poolside for relaxing and a room with a mirror on the ceiling for passion. Hot Karaoke nights, cold beer, and new friends.
Orfeo and Max, and Max’s sister Talisha, confide a troubling secret. Alex and Hunter want to help. As a hurricane bears down on them, a dead body surfaces and a purple backpack loaded with stolen jewels brings Derek Boyd, a jewel thief, into their lives. He wants his ex-boyfriend Max and the stolen jewels returned before the Russian mobster, who wants his wife’s jewels back, can catch up with him and exact his revenge.
Paradise is turning into hell on earth.
His Dark Reflection
Heart and Haven Book 3
Disgraced FBI agent Nick Truman failed to save his sister, who was held hostage by a drug cartel until he could give them Alex Crow, who eluded him. His epic downfall lands him in witness protection, where he plays by the rules and keeps to himself. But the murder of his neighbor brings danger to his door. He unexpectedly finds himself the champion of innocents and helplessly attracted to the homicide detective in charge of the case. Nick knows it won’t end well.
Homicide Detective Hank Axelrod is good at digging out secrets, maybe because he hides a big one of his own. He also suspects his husband has one foot out of the door of their marriage and the specter of single life looms unpleasantly on the horizon.
A murder resembling a previous one brings Nick into his world, a man who claims to be a mystery writer looking for a real-life resource. Hank’s instincts say he’s more than that, and he’s rarely wrong.
Torn between the errant soon-to-be-ex husband and the distracting, sexy stranger, Hank needs to focus all his attention on his murder case before he becomes the next victim.
Heloise West, when not hunched over the keyboard plotting love and mayhem, dreams about moving to a villa in Tuscany. She loves history, mysteries, and romance. She travels and gardens with her partner of fifteen years, and their home overflows with books, cats, art, and red wine.
$25 Amazon
These all look like something I’d enjoy. Thanks for sharing the series.
Congratulations to Alicia for winning the giveaway.