‘Saving Noah’ by T.S.McKinney. Self published September 1, 2018, 348 pages.
Noah tries to do the right thing—protect the innocent and make the evil pay for their sins. But instead of saving the world, he loses himself. After testifying against one of the biggest crime bosses in the country, Noah’s fear of retribution leads to a serious case of agoraphobia. There isn’t much in Noah’s safe zone that calms his nerves… well, except for his short interactions with his surly but hot new neighbor.
Life crushed Dr. Zachary Meadows’s rose-colored glasses years ago. He makes amends for the deeds of others—and for his failure to protect those in need—by saving as many lives as he can as an ER physician. After early betrayals, he purposefully keeps his circle small. Until he meets his odd new neighbor and unwanted desires cause him to act like a jerk.
When two survivors collide—one desperate for love and one afraid of it—sparks fly. But just as Zachary and Noah begin to heal one another, the past returns…with a vengeance.
One. Two. I’ve decided to come for you.
Three. Four. It won’t help Scaredy Cat to lock his door.
Five. Six. You committed a sin you can’t fix.
Seven. Eight. I’ve picked the date.
Nine. Ten. No one will ever see you again.
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“Hey, neighbor.” John’s sexy voice filled the hallway.
That was what John called him since Zachary refused to tell him his name, even though John had politely tried to pry the information from him. The low, sexy voice tickled Zachary in places that hadn’t been tickled in…well, forever. He hadn’t encountered another person who got under his skin like this kid did. To top it off, they couldn’t have exchanged more than twenty words to each other. He also had to admit he’d been horrifically rude with every word, one through twenty. Stopping the rudeness seemed implausible as well. It infuriated Zachary to see someone so young and beautiful live their life so dangerously. He was a prostitute; Zachary was convinced of it.
“Hey, John,” he mumbled without even looking over his shoulder. All it would take would be one glance and he’d be lost in those bright blue eyes and pouty lips. Eyes straight ahead. He could do this. “Get inside, Connor. The pizza’s getting cold.” He tried muscling Connor through the door, but his friend stood strong, feet glued to the floor and eyes glued to the man standing across the hallway.
A knowing smile curved Connor’s lips. “The pizza may get cold, but it sure as hell is hot out here.” He stepped away from Zachary’s door and straight toward John. “Well, hello, there,” Connor’s voice teased playfully. “I can’t believe Zachary has never once mentioned that his neighbor modeled. Aren’t you a pretty little thing?”
Zachary rolled his eyes, counted to ten, and then slowly turned around to face what he lusted and longed for at night in his lonely bedroom, knowing the object of his desire was on the other side of the wall…fucking a different man, or men, every other fucking Friday. Fucking Fridays. That was what he’d labeled them in his warped mind. He should’ve known better than to let Connor invite himself over tonight of all nights.
Don’t look into his eyes. Just walk into your apartment, close the door, and leave Connor to flirt his fool head off. Ha! Wouldn’t it be hilarious if John propositioned Connor, a cop, for sex? Yeah, that’d serve them both right.
Regardless of the warnings blaring inside his head, Zachary allowed his eyes to stray in John’s direction. He shouldn’t have done it. It was even worse than he could’ve ever imagined, and he’d imagined a lot of bad things where his younger neighbor was concerned. Connor was positioned on the other side of John and was propped up against the wall, eye-fucking John one minute and laughing at Zachary the next. Zach’s beloved pizza was tucked beneath Connor’s armpit.
All the times he’d accidentally run into his neighbor the past three months, John had been wearing workout clothes, because he’d been in the building’s gym, coming home from the gym, or going to the gym. John, even in slouchy gym clothes that looked at least one size too big, was almost too much for Zachary to handle. John wearing one of the erotic costumes Zach had seen many of the frequent guests dressed in was damned well going to be more than his thirty-year-old heart could handle. He stood there, mouth wide open, and gawked at John.
Tonight, on Fucking Friday, John wore a pair of skin-tight black leather pants cut low enough to perfectly frame the most fucking sexy V and washboard abs Zachary’s eyes had ever lusted after. He was a doctor; he’d seen a lot of nakedness. Nothing came close to what this kid looked like without a shirt on. His torso was lean yet defined with lithe muscles that could only be described as a work of art. Sheer perfection. His pale skin was flawless except for the tattoo of a strand of rosary beads that dipped almost as low as the leather pants—something pure decorating something so obviously impure. Zachary couldn’t help himself; the dark tattoo on the pale skin literally made his mouth water and his cock leak. John’s inky black hair looked mussed, like he’d already engaged in at least one bout of reckless fucking. Zachary’s fingers itched to test the silkiness, to prove that it couldn’t possibly feel as soft as it looked. Heavy black eyeliner highlighted John’s azure blue eyes, making him appear seductively haunted. To top off the magnificence of six feet of perfection, a thick diamond collar wrapped snugly around his slim neck.
Hi!! I’m the poor, mistreated, overlooked middle child, from the middle of Nowheresville (aka East Tennessee).
That explains a lot, right?
I married my high school sweetheart and we have three dog fur babies and six evil cats. Live on a farm—incredibly boring life…so I write!
As far back as I can remember, I’ve always written stories. What can I say? They are inside my head, demanding to be set free. My little stories, however, were always just for me. When something devastating (to me, at least) happened several years ago, I started writing, writing, writing—it was dark, a lot like my mood at the time! That’s one thing you’ll notice about me—my mood is all over the place. Some books are happy, some sad, some angry, and, of course, some KINKY!
I love hearing from readers. Love. Love. Love it!
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