Arresting Developments

Arresting Developments

Josh Lanyon L Picaro

Price: $5.99


Coyotes, human escorts for illegal aliens, are a problem on the border. This particular coyote is even more problematic when it turns out to be the younger brother of a close friend. In this story by James Buchanan, not everything is as it appears in this Coyote Crossing, especially when the leader of the pack winds up with his head bashed in.

Josh Lanyon entertains readers with In A Dark Wood. Being lost in the woods isn't a fun first date, especially when the forrest is the very one in which a teenage boy finds a human skull.

Escaping your past is hard when you're a former porn star. In L. Picaro's Gamble Everything one man is trying to do just that, but someone else is intent on making him remember all that he'd rather forget.

PUBLISHED BY: Aspen Mountain Press
ISBN: 978-1-60168-070-9
CATEGORIES: Romantic Fiction, Action/Adventure, Anthology, Contemporary, Erotica, ManLove, Mystery/Suspense, Romantic Suspense
KEYWORDS: cops, criminals, mystery, gay romance, coyotes, mexico, woods, murder, shoot-outs, illegal aliens

EBOOKS BY Aspen Mountain Press


COPYRIGHT L Picaro/2007

Coyote Crossing by James Buchanan

Rick couldn’t have heard the name right. It snuck out of his past and slapped him. The assignment may have been new; the area wasn’t. Columbus, New Mexico, forty-five minutes south, was his home town.

Associated with the name and the area was a gangly boy. Augi, Agustín, baby bro to Javier, Rick’s best friend at Deming High. Javier played center to Rick’s running-back position. And Augi; Augi was the fucking kid who followed them around and worshiped the ground they walked on. Javier’s mama would yell, Ninos, take Augi with you, sounding the death knell for two teenagers. The last thing they wanted was a fourteen year old to baby sit. They’d buy Augi a Manzanita, shove him in an out of the way booth, and tell him to shut the fuck up while they chased girls. Well, Javier chased them and Rick just pretended to.

Deming wasn’t a good place to be an eighteen year old, gay football player.

"What does this make for you Augi, three times this year?"As Fullbreck’s voice chided, Rick double timed towards the group of detainees. "You’re probably looking at time now boy."

Headlights picked out a squared off jaw set off by deep brown eyes. The subtle five-o-clock shadow softened the edges of his face. Hard set, the line of his mouth came off as a bad boy pout. Augi, his hands clasped behind his head, shuffled his worn hiking boots through the sand. The position pushed his chest out pulling his shirt tight. Where the flannel gaped a dusting of black curls enticed Rick. Thirteen years had filled out Agustín’s shoulders and upper body. Broad and muscular lines replaced the skinny teenage frame from Rick’s memories. Augi still had the shaggy, wavy black hair: buzzed on the sides but long on top and flopping into his eyes.

Rick sighed, "Ah shit, Augi."

Even if they hadn’t called out his name, Rick would have known Augi. It bothered him, just a bit, how excited he was at the prospect of seeing Augi. And it wasn’t the prospect of seeing an old friend that lit Rick up. No. The gaping rents in the knees of Augi’s jeans offered up enticing glimpses of hard muscled legs. Rick’s hips were excited to see Augi long before his brain put two and two together.

Fullbreck turned. "You know this piece of shit, Franco?" He swung his gaze from Augi to Rick and back again.

"If he has a brother named Javier, I do." Rick hooked his thumbs through his wide duty belt and adjusted himself without being obvious. "Fucking-A, been close to twelve maybe thirteen years though. Used to be best friends with his bro."

"Hey Rick,"Augi smirked, "How’s things? Long time no see." Warm and heady, Augi’s voice had grown up with the rest of him. It didn’t do anything to ease Rick’s half-mast stance. Fuck, Rick needed to get laid. At least six months had passed since the last time...the relationship had been over with George long before it had been finished.

Hacking and spitting into the dust, Fullbreck considered Rick. "You want him, Franco?"

For this group they’d caught, many more had probably slipped through their fingers. Family and friendship were big commodities in the Southwest. Combine those two random facts and nobody would think Fullbreck’s offer odd. What the authorities couldn’t drill through a thick head used to slipping through the cracks, maybe a heart-to-heart could. Then the next time, if there was a next time, Augi got caught they could all say they tried.

"Yeah, give him to me." Rick growled as he glowered at Augi. He shouldn’t tempt himself, but he felt like he owed it to Javier and his family. "I’ll see if I can’t smack some sense into his skull."

With a jerk of his head, Rick directed Augi toward his vehicle. The only sounds came from the agents behind them. When they reached the passenger side, Rick yanked open the door. "Get in the fucking truck, Augi."

In a Dark Wood by Josh Lanyon

"We’re lost."

Luke came up behind me. I pointed, hand shaking, at the cross carved into the white bark of the tree. "We’re going in goddamned circles!"

He was silent. Beneath the drone of insects I could hear the even tenor of his breathing although we’d hiked a good nine miles already that autumn afternoon -- and no end to it in sight. My head ached and I had a stitch in my side like someone was jabbing me with a hot poker.

I lowered my pack to the ground, lowered myself to a fallen tree - this time not bothering to check for ant nests or coiled rattlers - lowered my face in my hands and lost it. I mean, lost it. Tears...oh, yeah. Shoulders shaking, shuddering sobs. I didn’t even care anymore what he thought.

"Tim..." He dropped his pack too, sat down next to me on the log. He sounded sort of at a loss. After a minute he patted my shoulder. Awkwardly.

I turned away from him and tried to wipe my face on my shirt sleeve.

Feeling him fumbling around with his pack, I watched him through wet lashes. He pulled out his canteen, unscrewed the top and offered it to me.

I took the canteen, swallowed the warm stale water, handed it back. Wiped my face again. Perfect. My nose was running. Not that it mattered. It wasn’t like I had a shred of dignity left.

First dates. You’ve got to love ‘em.

But I mean, what kind of fucking sadist chooses camping for a first date?

Gamble Everything by L. Picaro

With lights swirling, he pulled up behind the latest SUV in distress and punched the license number into his on-board computer. Cautiously, he left the warm confines of his cruiser, pulled out his flashlight, and walked up to an already lowering window. The driver must have seen him coming. "Did you call in?"

"I did, Officer,"a deep, sexy voice responded.

Adam glanced into the red vehicle, arcing the light through the window and checking the interior. The driver was alone. "What seems to be the problem?"

"Other than the fact I crashed into the snowbank? Someone shot at me."

Adam’s eyes widened in surprise. "You didn’t mention that when you called, did you?" Damn Heather if she sent another cop out without all the pertinent information they needed. Highland Park wasn’t large enough to be ultra picky about their three dispatchers, but he’d have her head if there was a loony out with a gun taking pot shots.


That was odd. Why wouldn’t he? "License and registration, Sir."

The man reached over to open the glove box and pulled out his registration. Silently, he handed the document and his license to Adam. "Would you mind stepping out of the car and showing me what happened, Mr. Doane?"

"No problem, Officer."

Adam stepped back. The door opened and the dark-haired man, well over six foot, got out. Broad shouldered, he wore a red down vest that allowed his blue flannel-covered muscular arms free movement. He looked vaguely familiar but at the moment Adam couldn’t place Marc Doane. "Any idea why someone would take aim at you, Sir?"

The man frowned. "This little burg isn’t too crazy about gays."

That got Adam’s attention. Gay himself, Adam hadn’t encountered any violent prejudice in Highland Park, although he and Jon had tried their hardest to avoid undue attention. Thinking of Jon an all too familiar ache spread through his chest. "You think someone took a shot at you over your sexual preferences?"

"I know it. I left the Lyon’s Lair a half hour ago. On the way out the door I was called a ‘fucking faggot’. At the time, I shrugged it off, but after I got in my car and stated driving I had the feeling I was being followed."

Adam had never been to the Lyon’s Lair, but everyone in town knew it catered to the homosexual crowd. He’d wanted to go on occasion but memories of Jon loomed like a castle wall, holding Adam back from making a step forward in his life. Besides, protecting his job was paramount.


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