Featuring two PsyCop novels, Among the Living and Criss Cross, this volume will leave you on the edge of you seat, wanting more.In Among the Living, Victor is a PsyCop, also known as a member of the Paranormal Investigation team. He's not popular with the
The authors of Torqued Tales have taken favorite fairy tales and given them a romantic, sensual, and homoerotic slant. By turns rib-shaking funny and steamy hot, these fairy tales are not the morality plays of childhood memories. (Adult Fiction)
Dead men tell no lies…not that it matters. Paul Cronin suspects he doesn’t speak the same language as his predecessor Marlin, anyway. Despite all the information in the red notebook he inherited, Paul is no closer to understanding the Bermuda Triangle
Funerals are for the living. Dallas finds no closure at Marlin’s new age service, however, where none of Marlin’s friends can figure out what caused him to drown himself. He was happy and well-liked, and led a rich and active life. Was the pressure of
The foundation of superstition is ignorance. First Officer Paul Cronin has no use for magical thinking—he’s a logical guy, a skeptic who only believes what he can see. When a new assignment on Flight 511 takes him directly through the legendary Bermud
Everyone enjoys peace and tranquility, and Victor Bayne is no exception. He goes to great lengths to maintain a harmonious home with his partner, Jacob. Although the cannery is huge, it’s grown difficult to avoid the elephant in the room…the elephant
Paul Cronin has never been one to improvise. Now he’s found himself in the middle of a brand new world, with brand new rules. He would be the first one to play by those rules—heck, he’d relish them—if only he knew what they were.Luckily for Paul,
Enigmatic guys are hot. Michael is of the opinion, though, that Wild Bill manages to take it to an entirely new level. For some time, Michael has suspected that Bill has done more than just dabble in art. As with every other piece of his personal history,
There’s no place like home. For Paul Cronin, maybe that’s a good thing. His DC condo is practically empty, aside from a week’s worth of mail and the lingering smell of his hippie housekeeper’s vinegar-based cleaners. His life is empty too, filled
