We are so excited to be able to bring you the cover reveal for Caged Jaye by Lynn Kelling. This is the prequel to Arctic Absolution which is a recommended read from both Monique and Debra, so we can’t wait for the 12th April! Go check out the excerpt and don’t forget to enter the giveaway.
Novel by Lynn Kelling
Release Date: April 12, 2016
Publisher: Fantastic Fiction Publishing
Cover Designer: Siol na Tine
Cover Art: Original art by Natalya Nesterova.
Word count: 60,000
Genre: Gay Contemporary Drama
It’s Jaye Larson’s nineteenth birthday, and all he wants is to spend time with his boyfriend and his mother—the people he loves most and who make life worth living. But, faced by his mother’s demons, the imperfections of his relationship with boyfriend, Kris, and dangerous, homophobic strangers, one by one, all of Jaye’s dreams are soon derailed. Plunging into a waking nightmare, shortly after going to bed alone, he wakes in an alley, pinned down by two men with slow, bloody rape and murder in mind. It’s just the start of Jaye’s fight for his life, and his sanity, as time and time again, he’s forced to make impossible choices and survive, no matter what it costs. (M/M)
For additional details, including content labels, see imprint story page
“What if this fucks up my face? Like an infection?”
Cash shrugged, giving him a brief, unfazed glance before he resumed preparing the ink and modified tattoo machine, built from spare contraband parts acquired through trade from other inmates. The needles and ink came through the same sources Cash used to get the drugs and cigarettes inside for the Disciples. Jaye didn’t know what those were yet, or how Cash got things inside, but he knew he did. Cash controlled the flow of all goods and services for the Disciples.
Cash had some liner needles, as well as flats for shading, but only had blue or black ink. His set-up was not nearly as professional or sanitary as the tattoo shop where Jaye had his blue jay and tribal piece done. At the same time, it was a lot better than he’d expected.
The tattoo machine, needles, and inks were usually stashed inside the plate of the electrical outlet box in the cell’s corner, on the same wall as the bunks. The box was out of the way, and you had to crouch down behind the bunks to see it, so it didn’t usually get scrutinized during random searches, and the drug sniffing dogs Jaye had seen them use to find contraband didn’t pick up on it either.
“On your list of priorities, how high is staying pretty?” Cash countered.
Jaye grunted in reply. Cash had a point. If the teardrop tattoo turned into a scar, maybe that wasn’t a bad thing either. It was a given Jaye could go to sick call and request to be seen by the medical staff if infection set in. Plus, it wasn’t like he could hide an infection if one set in right next to his eye. Everyone would see it.
“I won’t lose my value if my face gets fucked up?”
Cash laughed softly, eyes downcast as he focused on his work. He tested the machine and seemed satisfied after it began to buzz softly for a moment. The machine was Frankensteined together with tape and rubber bands, which didn’t exactly set Jaye’s mind at ease either.
“Sit your ass down.” Cash pointed to the spot next to him on the top bunk, where the angle would hide them from view a little more than on Jaye’s lower bunk.
Once Jaye was settled, faced forward with his legs hanging off the side of the bed and leaned back against the wall, Cash dipped the needles in the blue ink and said, “Johnny, if you meet a guy in here who’s only interested in the smoothness and quality of your skin, you run the fuck the other way, you got me? It ain’t exactly your face they’re interested in. You know that.”
Jaye surrendered a little more. He’d always wished he had less of his mother’s prettiness and more of a manlier appearance. Now he had a chance to choose for himself what he would look like for the rest of his life. He wanted—no, needed—to own what he’d done to Burt McCurdy. It would be the first step of many in his quest to silence his traumatized conscience. There was no part of him that wanted to deny what he’d done. Hiding it would have been harder to live with than wearing it right on his face, for everyone to see. Let them judge him for the truth, instead of what they thought they knew about him.
Jaye had tied his hair back in a bun for once, to keep it out of the way. He tried to stay still as Cash raised the ink-dipped needles to the tender skin below the outer corner of Jaye’s left eye.
“Don’t fuckin’ move.” Cash fired up the tattoo machine and touched the buzzing end to Jaye’s skin.
The grouping of liner needles bit through. It stung. Eyes shut, controlling the instinct to flinch or frown, Jaye tried to keep his face relaxed. He repeated to himself, like a mantra, ‘Man up.’ That was the only way he’d get through this without freaking out.
The needles shifted only slightly, drawing their careful line. The moment was intense, worse than when he’d gotten his other two tattoos, which were both fairly massive, and even with how sensitive the area above his cock had been. The reasons why had nothing to do with pain, but more from how cobbled together the tattoo machine was. It was also because of how close to Jaye’s eye the needles were.
“You wanna be something more than a pansy little piece of ass, right?”
“You want some fuckin’ respect, from everyone, from the moment they lay eyes on you, without having to say one goddamned thing?”
“Yeah. I do.”
Shifting, constant scratches at his skin left a permanent trail behind. He couldn’t see it, but he could feel it burning, throbbing.
Too late to stop now.
Faint reactions stirred. Ripples from a former reality—concerns about how Jaye’s customers at the store would look at him, curiosity about whether Kris would like the teardrop, and guesses about the nature of the expression that would cross Cora’s beautiful face, seeing what kind of monster her baby had turned into. All of it was dead and cold. Each mental picture of things he’d never have to deal with ever again—his job, his boyfriend, his family—he tore them up and burned them down to ashes.
The harder he pushed them all away, the safer he knew he’d be.
Now, he belonged to Cash. More than that, he belonged to himself. Nobody else mattered. They’d all left him to rot or die.
Little did they know he wasn’t going down that easy.
Prequel to Arctic Absolution
Dixon Rowe is a good man and a good cop who keeps finding himself in bed with the enemy. After he picks up a young ex-con named Jaye Larson for stealing food, Dixon is seduced by the possibility of helping someone truly in need. He tells himself he’s assisting young Jaye out of the goodness of his heart—not because of how sexy Jaye is under all of the tattoos and defiance. But temptation entangles them as the malicious ghosts of Jaye's past return to haunt their every step. Jaye’s ghosts are bad enough, but the demon from Dixon's past is real enough to put both of their lives in danger. (M/M)
Story Page: http://forbiddenfiction.com/story/lk1-1-000188/
Meet Lynn Kelling
Lynn Kelling began writing in order to tell stories that aren’t afraid of the dark, don’t hold anything back and always strive to be memorable, forging lasting attachments between character and reader. Her inspiration comes from taking a closer look at behaviors and ideas lurking at the fringes of life—basically anything that people may hesitate to speak of in mixed company, but everyone wonders about anyway. Her work is driven by the taboo in order to expose the humanity within it. Lynn is an artist, designer and lover of any form of creative self-expression that comes from a place of honesty and emotion, whether it's body art or opera. She has had multiple novels published, has written over seventy works of erotic fiction of varying lengths, and always has several novels in progress.
Lynn will be gifting to one lucky reader an e-copy on release day of Caged Jaye. All you need to do is enter the Rafflecopter below for your chance to win.