About Collars and Cuffs, A BBA Menage Story
by BA Tortuga
222 pages / 55900 words
ISBN: 978-1-61040-205-7
Ebook zipped file contains -
html, lit, Adobe and Sony optimized pdf, prc, epub, and paperback
Hannah is a tough cop with a hardcore reputation. She’s not called the
Hammer for nothing. It’s a lonely life for her, but all she needs is her
work. At least that’s what she thinks until she meets exotic dancer Johnny.
John is sexy, even if he is a suspect, but as far as Hannah can tell, he’s
also taken.
John is definitely taken with his lover, Ben, but he and Ben play sometimes,
and they want Hannah. The three have fun, even when a murderer begins
stalking their lives. John and Ben love Hannah to death, even if her police
partner Ricky disapproves, but they hope it doesn’t become literal.
Review
Jane Davitt, author of Hourglass, writes: 'Collar and Cuffs' by BA
Tortuga is a fast, exciting read with a solid plot and enough heat to melt
snow. I finished it at a sitting and enjoyed every twist and turn.
Hannah MacTavish, the cop scarred physically and emotionally by a previous
encounter with a serial killer is one tough lady, strong enough to be able
to let her guard down around John, a suspect she's investigating in a murder
related to another serial killer, when her instincts tell her he's in the
clear. John and his partner Ben are equally secure enough in their
relationship to be interested in adding a third to the mix, but there's no
quick jump into bed, no feeling that the murder plot is secondary. The
flirting turned seduction builds slowly and there's a whole lot of
tenderness and comfort mixed in with the sizzle.
This is a book with nice weight given to each aspect of the story and the
motivations of the leads and a host of secondary characters who give it
depth and interest.
The glimpses into the tortured logic of the killer's head are well done and
the action builds at a steady pace to the nail-biting climax.
There's a twist at the end that took me by surprise a little, but in a good
way, and it worked well with what we'd learned about the characters during
the story.
Gritty, funny, hot, exciting -- this one's got it all.
Sample
"Come on, Angie. Shake it. How do you expect Hal to get
turned on when you're barely jiggling?" John tried to inject enthusiasm for
his cardio strip class into his voice, but it was tough. His head pounded,
he was dehydrated as hell, and he had a bruise the size of a dinner plate on
his ass. One of the girls had gotten grabby last night.
"All right, ladies, wrap it up. Come on, the big finish. Pretend that chair
is his lap!"
Five more minutes. Four. Three... yeah. Over.
"Thanks, girls. See you next week."
The eight women in his class grinned and nodded and started cooling down,
and John went to suck down a bottle of Gatorade, hoping that and a couple of
aspirin would ease the fucking headache.
The chittering and giggling eased up as the ladies all left, and he sighed,
stretched, and almost jumped out of his skin as he caught sight of a woman
just standing, staring at him. Brutally cropped tight red curls, freckled,
short -- she could have been called pixieish, if it weren't for the fact
that she looked solid as a rock and completely willing to kick a man's ass
and make him like it.
It was kinda hot.
"Can I help you?"
"I certainly hope so. I'm Detective MacTavish. I understand you worked for
an Andrew Parsons yesterday evening." Green eyes, too. Not bad.
John tilted his head. Police huh? Weird. "I worked, yeah. A girl named Anna
Marin hired me."
"Yes, she's a... paralegal on 38th. Can you please tell me what happened
last night during the party?" Short, bitten nails, dry, callused hands --
Lord, Ben would make clucking noises and drench her in moisturizers.
"What happened?" He wasn't stalling, really. Just trying to remember if
anything had really been different from any other hen party.
"Yes. You do remember the party, right? Was there booze? Blow? Other men?
How long were you there? You know, details." Not the most patient woman on
Earth, was she?
"There was booze for sure. Most women need to get liquored up before they
stuff bills in my g-string, you know?"
His first boss had told him he was almost too good looking to dance. He
could be intimidating. His first boss had obviously never seen a forty year
old housewife on straight tequila shots. "I don't remember drugs, but I was
only there an hour, and I was kinda busy. As far as I know, the "bride" was
the only guy there."
"When did you leave? Did you offer the "bride" extra services?"
John raised one brow the way that made Ben furious when he did it, knowing
it had that effect on a lot of folks. "I left after an hour. I think I got
there at nine. And I don't do extra services, lady. I don't have to."
"Chill out, studly. We can have this conversation here, or I can call a
black and white and we can have it in a few hours at the precinct." That
pencil just flew over the pad. "Where did you go after you left?"
"Home. That was an exhausting party. They all wanted to get touchy. You
wouldn't believe how grabby a bunch of girls get after a few drinks." She
was the studly one, total brusque hard-nose. It was oddly cool, making him
stifle a smile.
"You have someone who can verify that? And did Mr. Parsons get grabby as
well?" He wondered idly if she was a dyke. Most women at least gawked a
little. Hell, most women blushed and got a little flustered around the
edges. Not this one.