About A Hell Itself Breathes Out
by AR Moler
186 pages / 72700 words
ISBN:
978-1-60370-991-0
Available file types - html, lit, pdf, prc, epub, Sony-optimized pdf, also
available in paperback
Evan Garrett is a psychic DC homicide cop, and his latest case is
triggering all his instincts. When one murder becomes two, he can't help
but start connecting the dots, putting cases and clues together. He's
not the only one, though. John Bentley, director of Special
Investigative Services, a tiny government agency attached to Homeland
Security which deals with darker realities, and his team are soon on the
case, and they bring Evan and his special skills on board.
Both bisexual, Evan and John find they are attracted to each other, even
as they work together to solve this string of murders which keeps
growing in scope. Their serial killer seems to be moving toward darker
and darker deeds with every murder and ritual performed. Can John and
Evan find solace in each other, even as murderous men and demonic forces
threaten not only their own team, but the city as well?
Review
Syd McGinley,
author of the Dr. Fell books, writes: From the perfect title to fast
paced ending, Hell Itself Breathes out is one scary sweet ride…
John and Evan are not your run of the mill crime fiction characters.
They’re quirky, psi-endowed, bisexual and seriously hot. AR Moler has
written a gritty and hot blend of serial killer profiling, CSI-style
crime tracking, and supernatural detective work. More than once I was
startled by a twist in the story, and the demons (literal and emotional)
are serious business. And I’ve rarely despised a villain more!
Sample
John slowly stretched out on the sofa, head and
shoulders across Evan's lap. It was a strangely comfortable position,
especially after the nearly painful problems of the past couple days.
Normally, touching his awareness against another's took a conscious act of
lowering his defenses, but he had virtually none at the moment. He could
acutely feel Evan's concern, but there was also an inherent stillness in
him.
"Come on, close your eyes. It'll help," suggested Evan. He did so, and felt
Evan brush his fingers along the side of John’s face. His body jerked, an
uncontrolled response to the deliberate touch. "Take a deep breath and let
it out slowly." He felt a mental nudge, guiding him toward calm. Fingertips
rubbed his temples. Again, he flinched hard at the contact.
"You aren't making this easy." Evan drew a breath, and John felt him
visualize a circle of protection and fling his own shielding wide open.
The image of roots and soil and a man made of leaves and bark filled John's
mind. Roots were seeking down through the dirt, gripping the earth. There
was a solid texture, grounding, deep and firm. It was stillness like a
forest at dawn, an internal hush.
John knew his body was still tense against Evan's legs, John’s muscles
unwilling to fully relax. John felt Evan give up on letting him lie in
Evan's lap and gather John's body up in his arms, hugging John against his
chest. Sounds of breathing and a steady heartbeat filled John's senses. Body
warmth, arms around him: it was peace, and he was immersed in it.
He had absolutely no idea how long he lay cradled against Evan's body.
Eventually, the image faded. Slowly damped into the background, then gone,
just the stillness remained, broken gradually by the rhythm of Evan's pulse.
John opened his eyes as Evan eased him back down to lie across his legs.
Evan gazed down at him.
"Better?" Evan asked.
"I think... Who's the leaf guy?''
"The Green Man, a mythic symbol of the god. Male counterpart to the goddess,
or Earth Mother," said Evan.
"I thought the god was... well, had horns, like Pan."
"That's one aspect. Just not one I use much."
"Pagan thing."
"Yeah. You suck at grounding."
"You sound like my teacher at Division P. He always thought so, too." John
grinned a little.
"Raise your shields. So we can tell if we got this problem fixed or not,"
suggested Evan.
John inhaled and brought them up. They were a bit shaky, but very definitely
there.
After more than two days of nearly nonstop "noise" in his head, it was an
eerie and terrifying silence, somewhat akin to suddenly going deaf and blind
in the same instant. To go from the warm, reassuring presence of Evan's mind
against his to absolutely nothing... Right at that moment, it was too much.
He panicked, heart rate skyrocketing, gasping for breath. Evan pulled him in
tight, rocking him slightly.
"Relax, you put them up, you can take them down," Evan murmured. John's
breath was very nearly a sob. Evan stroked a hand down John's back, a
gesture of simple physical comfort. And the shielding released. John clung
to him, still breathing hard.
"Shh... It's okay. You're safe." Soft words of reassurance came from Evan.
"I... I am so messed up..." John whispered.
"I think half your problem is, you should have spent the first forty-eight
hours after getting home from the hospital in bed, getting pampered by
Cecelia. And you know she would've."
This elicited a partial smile from John as he eased his tight grip on Evan,
relaxing back to lie across Evan’s legs. Looking up at Evan, he felt a wave
of warm desire wash through him. Someone this understanding, who made him
feel this safe, psi, and deliciously cute, too. It had been years since he
had had a male lover. John’s breath hitched and he hastily tried to bury the
thought. Evan's thumb brushed across his lips.
"Don't worry. I'm not offended. But just to warn you, I go both ways," said
Evan.
John gave a snort of laughter. "And here I figured I was the only bi in DC."
He struggled to sit up, sore muscles still protesting. He ran his hands
through his hair, making it stand out in all directions. He was so
unbearably tired.
"I ought to head on home. And you look like you could use about twelve
straight hours of sleep," said Evan.
"Mmm, like that's likely to happen," John replied. His hand closed gently
around Evan's wrist as the other man stood up. "It worked... I owe you."
"Maybe I'll take it out in trade," Evan grinned. He pressed John back
against the sofa cushions with one hand and braced one knee between John's
legs and kissed him. It was a gentle, warm kiss. When he lifted his face
away, John stared at Evan in surprise. "Get some sleep," Evan whispered, and
left.
It was too much trouble to walk up the stairs. John stretched out on the
sofa again. A piece of his mind missed the feeling of Evan's against his
own, and the warm strength of Evan's arms. Technically, the man didn't
actually work for him, but somewhere he was sure there was some governmental
regulation forbidding "fraternization." He was so unbearably tired, he fell
asleep on the sofa.