About Murder in Pastel
Written by Colin Dunne
189 pages / 64000 words
ISBN: 978-1-60370-048-1, 1-60370-048-X
Available file types - html,
lit, pdf, prc
Kyle Bari knows he's in trouble when his ex, Adam, comes back to Steeple Hill. Adam has a new boyfriend named Brett, who seems to have a lot of questions for Kyle and a wandering eye for the other residents of "the colony".
When Brett turns up dead, Adam and Kyle are the prime suspects. Add
a missing painting and Kyle's reawakened feelings for Adam to the mix,
and Kyle knows he has the perfect recipe for trouble. Can he find the
missing painting and prove that neither he nor Adam are guilty of anything
but love?
Review
Mychael Black, author of Fool’s Gold, writes: For Kyle, life in Steeple Hill, California, is anything but dull. Granted, on the surface, things seem…calm. Deeper, however, mystery surrounds this little town—or namely, Kyle himself, as he’s the son of the area’s most famous (and infamous?) artist: Cosmo.
When Adam MacKinnon, an old colleague of Cosmo’s, comes back into town after a ten-year absence, he brings with him a young, wild lover by the name of Brett Hansen. Brett is something the likes of which the little community of Steeple Hill has never seen. With the balance of everything toppling, the intrigue builds—its central focus a long-lost painting, Cosmo’s masterpiece: Virgin in Pastel.
But things are just beginning to heat up, what with folks dying left and right and Kyle realizing he can’t really trust anyone—not even the people who practically raised him in his father’s absence.
If you’re looking for a good, lip-gnawing, page-turning mystery, this is the book for you. I couldn’t close it, always desperate to read just one more page—just one more chapter. I was instantly sucked into this story after the first few lines, and was always eager to get back to reading when I had to stop.
Kyle’s life is a roller coaster ride, that’s for sure. You can’t help but feel for the poor man as he dodging threats on his life (some coming quite close to fruition!), dealing with a long-standing love for his father’s friend Adam, and avoiding the advances of the very bizarre Brett Hansen.
Needless to say, Kyle has his hands full!
This is, by far, the best mystery I’ve ever read. If you like mysteries, you’ll love this one!
Sample
I wandered over to the window overlooking the beach; the dock shone silver in the moonlight. I stood there wondering about Adam and Brett. Wondering about what binds people together.
I felt rather than heard Adam come up behind me. My skin prickled with awareness.
He stood behind me and I could see his image in the window glass overlapping my own. We looked like two ghosts, pale, half-vanished. Rain drops glistened in our reflections.
"It was a mistake to come back here." His breath was warm on the back of my neck. I shivered and he slipped his arms around me. I stood very still though I'm sure he could feel the betraying thud of my heart against my breast bone.
I understood my reaction to Brett. It was about sex, pure and simple. Or maybe not so pure, but definitely simple. My reaction to Adam was so much more complicated. I wanted him, yes—badly. But this yearning was more than physical. I couldn't define it and I knew there wasn't a hope in hell of satisfying it. And yet, after a moment, I relaxed and leaned against him. We stood there for what felt like a long time.
"Why was it a mistake?" I asked finally. I was thinking that in a moment he would let me go and I would feel colder than I had ever felt in my life.
But under the circumstances I guess it was a silly question. Adam didn't bother answering, resting his cheek against my head.
"For so long I thought of you as a kid." He turned his face to my hair, breathing in. "Jesus, you still even have that little boy scent."
"I think it's the…uh…baby shampoo." My voice sounded odd.
So did Adam's laugh as he turned me to face him. His hands were gentle, almost tentative as he drew me against him. I could feel his body hard and taut down the length of my own. And I could feel the erection straining his jeans. I pressed closer, hoping he couldn't tell I was shaking. It's a little frightening when a dream comes true. For an instant we stood there, eye to eye, cock to cock. His breathing was even but fast, like he was holding himself in check.
"Adam," I whispered and fastened my arms around his neck. We kissed. Not gently, not tentatively, but hard and hungry. As though we had both been waiting for this from the day he returned.
"Oh, God, Kyle," he muttered into my mouth. I made a soft inarticulate sound of encouragement. His kiss deepened and I opened to it.
Instead he withdrew, kissing the corner of my mouth and then the sensitive hollow beneath my ear. I turned my mouth, seeking his. He kissed my eyebrow, and then—tenderly—my lips.
My heart pounded heavily in my chest, but it wasn't with happiness or excitement; it was anxiety. There was no joy in that kiss: it felt like good-bye. I opened my eyes.
"This isn't fair to you," he said unsteadily.
A car door slammed.
We pulled apart like boxers at the sound of a bell. There was a crunch of feet on shale, and then the front door opened and Joel and the doctor came in.