Thursday, August 20, 2015

Laurel Heights by Lisa Worrall

Laurel Heights #1
Detectives Scott Turner and Will Harrison are sent undercover after an apparent murder/suicide in Laurel Heights, an exclusive gay housing community. Will the two closeted officers be able to hide their attraction while each believing the other is straight? And is there a killer amongst them waiting to claim his next victim?

***CONTENT ADVISORY: This title includes scenes of dubious consent***

Laurel Heights #2
Will and Scott are now out and proud and living together in Scott's tiny house. So everything is perfect, right? Wrong...

Scott has a new partner, a new male partner, and Will is not happy about that at all.

A sadistic serial killer is at large, torturing his way through the gay community, but Will and Scott have no leads.

And one of the residents of Laurel Heights has been arrested for murder.

This duology has a little bit of everything: sex, crime, mystery, heartache, bad guys, good guys, friendships, and above all love.  Will and Scott are an amazing pair.  I guess to a certain extent they represent the cliche of closeted cops who hate each other, at least on the surface, but are thrown together undercover and then learn certain truths about each other.  But cliche or not, the relationship between the two as well as their partners, Grace and Julie, are so well written and entertaining that my heart was captured from the very beginning and are in no way read as typical.  As for the mystery/crime, that too is edge of the seat expertly crafted, even though I had a fair idea who the culprit was especially in book 2, riding along watching Will and Scott figure it out was nail biting.  For me, Laurel Heights falls into the "journey is more important than destination" category.  I have never read this author before but I will definitely be checking out other works by Lisa Worrall because Laurel Heights is powerful.


Laurel Heights #1
The gated housing development of Laurel Heights was quiet in the early hours.

The houses were dark and their occupants asleep.

Nobody heard the muffled shot that rang out into the still of the night.

A shot, quickly followed by another.

Shots that left two members of their exclusive community dead.
* * * * *
"Where are you going? It's two in the morning."

Will pulled his T-shirt back on and raked his fingers through his blond hair. "Early start tomorrow," he said picking up his wallet and his cell. Checking he'd not received any messages while he was otherwise engaged he shoved them both into his pocket, and sat on the edge of the bed to slip his feet into his boots. Will closed his eyes at the feel of soft lips feathering across the nape of his neck, warm breath lifting the strands of his short hair where it sat against his skin, and sighed. He hated this part, the leaving. Especially when the sex had been good, which it had. Ignoring the insistent pulling of impatient fingers at his shirt, he laced his boots and stood up.

"Do you want my number?"

"Sure," Will replied, taking out his cell. He moved his fingers over the pad and pretended to put the number recited to him into his contacts. He wasn't sure why they were going through this charade. The man staring up at him wasn't fooled by Will's actions, yet he continued to reel off the numbers. Pushing his cell back into his pocket, Will leaned down, ran a quick hand through curly blond hair, and kissed the offered lips. He pulled back before it could become anything more and crossed the room. Pausing in the doorway he raised a hand, scrabbling desperately for the guy's name and failing, so throwing a lame goodbye over his shoulder instead. At least he had the decency to blush slightly when the cold reply followed him out into the hall.

"It's Jack, asshole."
* * * * *
Scott threw his head back, lost on a sea of sensation as he pounded relentlessly into the willing body beneath him. "Fuck, yes," he cried out when the heat around him tightened and he lost it. His orgasm pulsed through him and he thrust mindlessly, chasing the last of his pleasure. When his breathing had calmed enough to move, he grabbed the end of the condom and pulled out then turned to flush it down the toilet beside them. Club bathrooms were never exactly the easiest places to have sex in, but eyes across a crowded room and all that. Tucking himself back into his pants, Scott gasped as hands grabbed his face and turned him around into a searing kiss.

"My place?" The gray eyes gazing into his were hopeful.

Scott shook his head, his lips curving into a regretful smile. "I'm sorry, I have an early meeting," he replied, softening the dismissal with a kiss. "But I had fun; maybe we can do it again some time."

"Ah, so you're one of those guys who gets his rocks off and then isn't interested, huh?" The other man's tone was angry, as he glared up at Scott.

Scott's eyes hardened and he pulled himself up to his full height of almost six feet before unlocking the door of the stall. "I'm never interested in some twink who'll let me fuck him before I've even asked his name." Ignoring the stunned look on the other man's face, Scott walked out into the crowded bathroom, and kicked the stall door closed behind him. After quickly washing his hands, he ran his fingers through his short, black, sweat-dampened hair, and then made his way back out into the club.

Surrounded by a sea of writhing bodies, Scott looked at the illuminated hands of his watch and yawned when he saw that it was two in the morning. Lowering his head to avoid anyone mistaking a glance for a come on, he began to push his way through the throng toward the exit. Even though the guy in the bathroom had thought he was being blown off, he really did have an early start tomorrow. Outside in the cold New York air, he hailed the first cab he saw and clambered into the back.

Laurel Heights #2
The air in the gaudy motel room was thick with heat and anticipation, the only sound the over-loud click of the handcuff slipping into its housing. He stood back and stared down at the man on the bed, struggling to put a name to the beautiful face gazing up at him. Ah, yes, Apollo he’d said in the club. He remembered having to swallow a smile at that. Apollo, of course it was… not that it mattered… why would it? All that mattered was the dim lighting casting shadows on Apollo’s naked body. Muscles and sinew picked out in tanned stark relief against the white sheets, hard as nails cock jutting proudly from a bed of trim black curls.

“Are you ready?” His voice reverberated within his chest. He could barely contain the excitement as his gut churned with the heavenly anticipation of what was to come. He took a couple of calming breaths and willed himself to relax, wanting to take his time, draw out the pleasure… stretch out the delicious release.

“Please.” Apollo’s plea was a whimper from the back of his throat, the tendons standing out in his neck as he lifted his head to watch His every move.

“Don’t worry, baby,” He said softly as he curled his fingers around heated flesh, pre-cum wetting his palm and sending a shiver down his spine. “I've got you.” He slowly lifted his other hand and the length he held immediately withered and Apollo's eyes widened, his mouth opening as if to scream. “Ssh,” He soothed, dropping Apollo’s cock. He shook his head as he pulled a clean, white handkerchief from his pocket and pushed it between Apollo’s suddenly slack lips.

This was the best part. Their sudden fear when they realized the glinting metal in his fingers was not part of the game—it was real. Almost the best part, he amended internally as he drew the tip of the blade across bronzed flesh, his gaze mesmerized by the river of red left in its wake.

He smiled reassuringly at the man bound to the bed, then said in a voice thick with need, “Let’s get started.”

Author Bio:
Thank you for reading and taking the time to review and/or rate. It's jaw-dropping to me that you would do either. I feel a bit like Sally Field in her famous Oscar speech "You like me - you actually like me"

I live in a small seaside town just outside London, on the South Coast of England that boasts the longest pier in the world; where I am ordered around by two precocious children and a dog who thinks she's the boss of me.

I've been writing seriously for three years now and love giving voice to the characters warring to be heard in my head, and am currently petitioning for more hours in the day, because I never seem to have enough of them.

I like nothing more than bringing together two people in interesting and sometimes bizarre ways, and hope that the readers enjoy the characters' journey as much as they and I do.


Laurel Heights #1

Laurel Heights #2

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