‘The Deadly Game of POWER’ (Jamaican Gangsters and American Thug Drama Series Book 8) by J.S. Lewis. Published by the author December 28, 2017, 509 pages.
Detective Theodore Cooper of the Miami PD serves his country by taking on the toughest cases. But secrets from his recent cover-job on a murder threaten the foundation of his career. Now he must choose between blowing the whistle and jail time–or brutally silencing those who know the truth.
The Rodriguez Cartel
Andrea Rodriguez’s thirst for vengeance has led her down a dark path. She plans to marry a drug-dealing murderer to gain power and overthrow her own brothers, but her new husband, Pedro Gonzalez, has his own secret motivations. When he’s not out screwing prostitutes, selling dope or shooting heroin, he’s an assassin for hire. But now he finally has the chance to take revenge on the Malcolm family and everyone is expendable–including his wife.
Santiago Rodriguez’s fiancé Antonio is an ambitious openly gay civil attorney, and his current case, a massive and well-publicized lawsuit against Big Pharma, may either advance his career or end it–and his life, too. When he disappears, Santiago becomes the prime suspect. With his younger brother José Rodriguez facing first-degree murder charges, Santiago has to choose between revealing legal corruption and betraying one of the people he loves most…
The Malcolm Mafia
Andrew Malcolm will honor his father’s will and divide his estate equally, but on one condition: the power-hungry Malcolm cousins must prove their worth and ferocity in a three-way competition. Dre, Donte, Colton, and Justin vie for the ultimate prize, but the rival Rodriguez family threatens their shared legacy. Dre faces off with his most formidable opponent yet–but will the fractious family hold together, or crumble under pressure?
I wasn’t expecting such a soft smile. It disarmed me. He began stroking my cheeks, and I leaned my face into his palms. “I missed you, babe,” he said softly.
I muttered back.
“You miss me?”
“No,” I lied.
He dove into the bed beside me, smacked me with a pillow, and grinned. I wasn’t in the mood for his games; I grabbed it and tossed it to the floor. He hugged me from behind, pulling me onto the bed, holding me close. He planted a soft kiss on my shoulder, and I closed my eyes.
At least the suspicion was gone. He’d bought into the story that I convincingly sold to him, that it was just jealousy alone. All else seemed to be slipping away as he held me. I felt his fingers trailing to my nipple. I wasn’t in the mood for this, but I wasn’t in the mood to stop him, either. I let my husband have his way.
He began gently biting me, holding me with one hand and massaging my nipples with the other. I closed my eyes and allowed the chills to rush down my spine. I moaned, and smiled for the first time since seeing him again. He kissed my neck softly; I could feel currents rippling off my skin. I was growing more enlarged by the second. Then I felt his hot tongue on me, frisking on my skin. I clenched my fist and exhaled.
“You okay, babe?” he asked softly. I nodded mechanically. He began tracing invisible patterns on my chest. My breathing was becoming unsteady. I was quickly losing my train of thought, and I processed each act of pleasure he was performing on my body with heightened clarity.
“I want you to forget about that shower, okay?” he said huskily in his hot, smoky voice.
“Yeah,” I exhaled a little heavily.
He spun me around, and I climbed on top of him, kissing him feverishly. He paused and caught his breath. “If there’s anything you wanna tell me, I don’t want you to be afraid to express your feelings, ever. Just tell me, I’ll deal with it,” he promised.
Dum, da, da, da, I hummed in my mind. He was ruining the moment, going back to this. I shook my head and kissed him once more. He slowly pulled my shirt over my head, and then he took off his. Minutes later, we were both naked in bed twisting and turning.
He was above me, while I lay on my back, and his hard, dark eyes held mine, I could feel his warm breath on my skin. “Jevaughn,” he breathed.
“Yes, Dre,” I answered.
“It doesn’t matter what happens, or what you do. I’ll love you till death, babe,” he promised.
I kissed him softly. My lips parted his, and I banished all negative thoughts from my mind. Of course I was allowing my imagination to run wild, thinking he was acting all suspicious. He could not have known a thing, so it was just my guilty mind. He maybe just thought I was harboring hatred for Jessica, which I was, when I thought about it.
I kissed him more fiercely, and he pulled me to the edge of the bed, not wanting to waste any more time. He walked towards the bedside table and reached into the drawer for a tube of lube, then walked back to position himself between my legs with a broad grin.
J. S. Lewis lives in Kingston, on the beautiful, sunny Caribbean island of Jamaica. The inspiration to write struck him during his last year of high school. Narrowly escaping a gay bashing, J.S. sought comfort and freedom in the world of writing. However, Jamaica had not yet matured out of homophobia, and there was no way of getting M/M romance into local publishers’ hands. Out of place in corporate Jamaica, his seductive, spicy dramas have found a loving and enthusiastic home online. An army of supportive fans and generous family have helped him accomplish his dreams and share them with readers across the world. He can’t wait to bring you the next installment in the LGBTQ and gangster saga. Readers who love the shows Empire and Atlanta will love the next installments in the series.
Contact J.S. at firstname.lastname@example.org