Welcome to the landing page for my new mystery-romance series with a wicked edge, the Daddy P.I. Casefiles.
Book 0.5: Negotiation
Where it all begins! This prequel to the series follows private security consultant, James Logan, through his first meeting with “little” submissive, Emily Martin. Witness their meeting, their very kinky first date, and get a peek into the world of “gentlemen’s” club, Blunts.
Here’s an excerpt:
I pull her a little closer as a tangle of bodies careens around the corner.
It’s the hounds: six men stripped down to their kecks, skins oiled, ankles chained together, running on all fours, unpracticed, uncoordinated, skidding and slipping on the smooth parquet floor. One of them loses his balance and crashes into the corner a few feet from where Emily’s standing. I shift her out of the way as he scrambles up, only to be flattened to the floor again by the crack of a horse-whip across his shoulders.
“Ow, fuck!” The whipped hound yells. “That’s not the way this is supposed to go! I thought I was going to get to do the whipping!”
“You thought wrong,” Ryan says, stalking smoothly around the corner on polished black boots. “I might let you give our fox a little spanking, if you ever manage to catch her.” Ryan catches sight of me and grins. “Master Logan, are you joining the hunt?”
“Master Ryan,” I acknowledge. “Not tonight. Just watching. This is my date, Emily. Emily, this is Master Ryan.”
This 75,000 word story is available for free exclusively in my Facebook reader group. Come join my Angels & Demons and get in on the fun!
Logan leaves Emily in New York while he chases across country to track down the source of brick, a performance-enhancing drug that has poisoned several guests on the kinky Mexican Sunset cruise. But what’s a Dom without his sub? Emily soon joins Logan to complete his cover aboard the cruise. Between scenes of naughty cheerleaders and Viking raids, they race to find the brick, before another cruise guests loses their life.
Here’s an excerpt from the first chapter:
Widows are the worst part of my job.
Worse than the pain in a client’s eyes when I tell them it’s a family member who has fucked them over. Worse than the three times I’ve been shot at. It’s the uncomprehending grief of the recently widowed that always threatens to rip the heart out of my chest. Their loved one was there yesterday, or two days ago, or ten. Now they’re not. It makes no sense. After being there for years, sometimes decades, the person is simply gone, and the widower has to keep on living as though their world hasn’t just dived headfirst into an empty concrete pool.
Regina Black, or “Reggie” as she asks me to call her, is the same as every other widow I’ve met. She looks hollowed out by grief. Scoured by it. She’s still tan and put-together in a dark brown linen skirt suit. She goes through the motions of being okay. But it’s there in her empty eyes, the pallor under her tan.
I want to hug her. Stroke her artfully tousled bottle-blonde hair. The way I would comfort my babydoll, or any bottom who came to me hurting and needy.
But Reggie Black’s a stranger, a stranger who is threatening a lawsuit against my client. So instead, I shake her hand and show her to the circular couch in the suite the cruise line has booked for me at the M Hollywood Hotel. I offer her bottled water, which she takes and sips with a trembling hand.
Book 1.0 will shortly be available for pre-order. Please follow my Amazon Author Page for updates on when Daddy P.I. will be available.
Back in New York, Logan is called in to help his long-time client and porn king, Rick Errol, who has been accused of rape by an online stalker after a scene gone very wrong. Rick wants Emily kept out of the investigation, but can Logan hope to solve the stalking without his insightful sub? With the N.Y.P.D. building a case against Rick, and the stalker threatening not just Rick’s freedom but his life, can Logan catch the stalker before Rick ends up in jail, or worse, the morgue?
Here’s an excerpt:
Rick’s got the penthouse of a low-rise apartment block in Murray Hill. With the glass lobby on the ground floor and the concrete tower above it, the building looks top-heavy. I think the architectural style is called “brutalist,” and if it’s not, it should be because the squat gray-white building is brutally fucking ugly.
At the moment, the setting fits my mood. Miranda’s impending arrival feels like a doomsday count-down if there ever was one. And I told Rick that stalkers escalate; he didn’t want to hear it. He knows our security procedures and he broke them. He’ll be lucky if he wasn’t exposed to something. Acids, contact poisons, nerve agents. Plenty of harmful crap can be sent through the post, and even more via courier. Sure, most of what can really hurt you is hard for the average civilian to get their hands on, but fucking pool chlorinator can cause serious burns, as I know from experience. Rick makes his living off his face and he stuck it in front of a suspicious package like we’ve never had the “don’t open something that hasn’t been vetted by security” talk.
He’ll be lucky if I don’t lock him his own damn safe room with just Manny for company until I find this stalker.
Focusing on Emily keeps me calm through the taxi ride and on the way up to Rick’s apartment. She doesn’t need either the concentrated attention or the rules I’m heaping on her. Despite Pence’s bullying last night, Caddy’s kink-shaming this morning, and Miranda arriving in a few hours, she seems relaxed. She’s dealing with everything far better than I am.
While we’re waiting for the elevator, I put her in High Protocol. She’ll stay on her feet until we’re inside Rick’s apartment. Once we’re inside, she’ll be on her knees. Neither Manny nor Rick have seen her in High Protocol before. Manny won’t twitch. I’ve never once seen the guy seriously lose his cool, not even during the unplanned home-birth of his second kid, which is why I trust him so much. But I’ll have to keep a close eye on Rick to make sure he doesn’t say or do anything to humiliate Emily.
Ironic that of the two of them, the one I have to watch is the damn Dom.
Please follow my Amazon Author Page for updates on when Daddy P.I. 2.0 will be available.
Book 2.5: Missing Ink
Logan’s best friend and commanding officer, Mike “Mac” McNally, is trying to adjust to civilian life. Adrift after a lifetime of serving his country, he joins Logan in New York. Logan soon draws Mac not only into his investigation of a series of threats at a New Jersey nightclub but also into his “gentlemen’s” club, Blunts.
Blunts house submissive, Brenna “DirtyGurl” Truelove has had enough of Doms. They only ever want her wild-child side. When she needs a Dom for something serious, they run back to the dungeon. And DirtyGurl has a very serious problem: the business she’s put her heart and soul into for five years is being destroyed by a mysterious rival. When her safety is threatened, she turns to Logan and Mac. Can Mac convince DirtyGurl to give a Dom a second chance, while catching her rival before it’s too late?
Here’s an excerpt:
“I’m guessing from the name, and the outfit, that you’re part of Logan and Theo’s club,” Mac says as he cuts into his short stack of pancakes. He pours maple syrup around the edge of his plate, dips the forkful in the puddle, and pops the bite into his mouth. His smile as he chews sends another flutter through me.
“Yes, sir. I’m one of the house submissives.”
He probably could have guessed that just from my day-collar, which I’m wearing along with one of Logan’s t-shirts, since Emily was right about the no-clothes-in-the-house-for-submissives rule. Logan’s let me wear a shirt while I’m cooking and eating, but the rest of the time, I’ve been running around naked. Which I don’t even do at home.
It’s kind of freeing.
“Do I have to be a member to do a scene with you?”
“No, sir. I do scenes with guests.”
“Could I interest you in a scene tonight?”
“She’s busy,” Theo interjects.
“Because we’re watching the X-Men movies tonight,” Emily says.
Very sure I didn’t promise that. “We are?”
“You said you’d stay the weekend. Sunday night is X-Men night.”
“You invited me for the weekend. I didn’t say I’d stay.”
Emily turns to Logan and bats her eyes. “Can’t you make her stay, Daddy?”
Logan covers his mouth with his hand and I’m pretty sure it’s because he’s hiding a smile. “If DirtyGurl doesn’t have to work tonight, then I’ll encourage her to stay another night. Outside of scenes, we don’t force other people to do things they don’t want to do, do we, baby?”
She screws up her face and peers at him. “Don’t we? Even if it’s for their own good?”
“No, little girl. There has to be consent, always.”
He chuckles and drops his hand. “What are you like, little girl?”
I reach over and take Emily’s hand. “She’s like a really good friend. Sorry.” I look at both Theo and Mac. “I’m busy tonight.” And then my tongue does something my brain definitely didn’t tell it to do. “But I’ll take a rain-check.”
Fuck, I did not just say that.
Mac salutes me with a forkful of pancake. “I’ll hold you to that.”
“Me, too,” Theo says.
Please follow my Amazon Author Page for updates on when Missing Ink will be available.
Each of the books in the Daddy P.I. series stands alone, without a cliffhanger. The series deals with strong adult themes including drug use, bullying, and power-exchange.