About Timeless Hunger
Written by BA Tortuga
147 pages / 50000 words
ISBN: 1-933389-45-1
Available file types - html, lit, pdf, prc, paperback
Knox likes to blow shit up. In fact, it’s his life. He’s got a reputation as the best demolition man in the business, at least until the enigmatic Isaac shows up and literally blows one of his jobs to kingdom come.
Isaac is a lot older than he looks, and tired of searching through time for the one he loves. When he finds Knox he’s almost given up. He amuses himself with the youngster for awhile, but when he realizes things are getting serious, he runs, unable to bear the thought of losing Knox as he’s lost so many before.
This time he’s not going to get away, though. Knox is a lot more tenacious than Isaac expects. Will their hunger for each other eat them alive, or can they strike the perfect balance between the past and the future?
Review
Cynthia Potts, editor of the upcoming Play Ball, writes: I’m not the world’s biggest fan of vampire smut. In fact, I’ve been known to dismiss the entire sub-genre as “Chomp, chomp, bang, bang, chomp.”
Trust BA Tortuga to turn my perceptions completely around. Timeless Hunger gives us the tale of Issac and Knox, a sprawling, sensual tale that starts quite literally with a big bang. Issac’s house has been leveled, but it’s Knox who is shaken off his foundation. Brawn and just enough brains to keep things enticing make him one of Tortuga’s more enticing characters – I’m tempted to buy some decrepit buildings just for the pleasure of having Knox’s demolition company knock them down.
Thankfully, we’re spared most of the conventions of vampire literature. Issac is a strange mix of sympathetic and bewildering. Tortuga uses him masterfully to explore the self-sacrificing nature of love, especially as the tale culminates. An overwhelming feeling of dread permeates the last third of the book, as the reader hurriedly flips through pages to discover not only if Issac and Knox will survive as a couple, but if they will survive at all.
As always, the erotic scenes are powerful and engaging. There’s a little less kink than in some of Tortuga’s other works, but the story doesn’t suffer for it. The dynamic between smartass tension and all-encompassing need plays out perfectly, and there’s some creative breakfast food as well. Really, what more could you ask for?
Oh, yeah. A sequel?
Sample
The charges were in place. Everything looked good, and Knox was ready to clear the building and head across the street to his little box of fuses and watch it go.
The house had some serious-ass character, and it was a damned shame, but it had been allowed to deteriorate to the point where the city had foreclosed, and wanted it torn down to make way for a sleek new grouping of condos. They would fit into the neighborhood on the outside, looking semi-arts-and-crafts, but on the inside, damn. They were gonna have the shit.
''You got everyone out, Freddy?''
His crew boss grunted. ''Had to kick Lopez out. He fiddled and fiddled. But yeah.''
''Excellent. Let's get going then. We're on a schedule.'' Grabbing his hat, Knox headed for the door, checking the worst danger areas automatically one last time.
What the fuck?
There was...
There couldn't be.
There was a crazy bastard lounging -- lounging -- on the porch, fiddling with some of his charges.
''What the fucking Hell are you doing, asshole?'' He advanced, putting his boot heels down hard. Knox knew he was a big, intimidating guy and right now he was gonna use that to his best advantage.
''This is my house and I don't want it blown up.'' The lounger never tensed, the long, lean body stretched out. Dark eyes looked up over a ski-slope nose. ''I just returned to town. This is a most unpleasant surprise.''
''You shoulda taken that up with the city. They waited six months. Freddy? Call the cops.''
''I'll take it up with them, tomorrow. This building's been in my family's care forever. It can wait one more day.''
''No, it can't. I'm on a schedule. I have to be in Atlanta tomorrow.'' His teeth made a funny noise as he ground them. Freddy slipped away to make the call, and he moved in to slap those long fingers away from the wires. ''That thing can go off, you know.''
''So go to Atlanta. Or wait. Last time I checked the newspaper, it stopped burning decades ago.'' The long fingers slapped back.
Knox narrowed his eyes. ''You're some piece of work. Brass cojones, I'll give you that. But ain't no way you own this place.''
''I assure you, my familial name is on the deed.''
''Then why is it rotting back into the ground? You like the organic look?'' Hand on hips, Knox braced his legs, glaring down at the way too damned casual looking guy. Shouldn't he be even a little intimidated? Just a tiny bit? Knox wondered if he was losing his touch.
''I told you, I've been away. I haven't been in town in much too long. I only just arrived today.'' He got a long look, eyes traveling up his body slow as molasses.
Something went ping, but Knox ignored it. ''Well this place has been rotting for maybe fifteen years. So if you gave a damn about it, the time is long past.''
''And the history here? The words? The stories? They mean nothing?'' He got a dismissive sniff.
''Who's here to hear them?'' Why the fuck was he arguing? Just about the time he decided to assault the guy, though, the cops showed, having been nearby anyway.
Dark eyes just rolled. ''Of course, default to the police. Coward.''
''Coward! Man, I got a job to do. What the fuck did you think...''
''What seems to be the problem, Mr. Knoxville?''
''Knoxville? Named for a town, hmm?'' One eyebrow rose. ''There seems to be a misunderstanding, officer. This man is bent upon destroying my house.''
The poor cop looked confused as hell. Knox couldn't blame him. ''He says he owns the place, Dewey. But he hasn't shown me any papers, and hasn't talked to the city. He's just fiddled with my charges.''
''Go look at the deed. Saur. S. A. U. R. This is my family home.''
''Uh. Well, sir, if you have a claim.'' Dewey gave him an apologetic, and nervous, glance. ''We have to hold off, sir. Until we can see if it's true.''
''Jesus fucking Christ.''
''I assure you he wasn't involved. Just history.'' Saur's eyes just danced.
Knox's eyes were probably dancing too, but from the steam building up. ''You fucker. If you louse up my fucking blow...''
''Are you threatening me, Mr. Knoxville? Here, in front of these nice police officers?''
Baring his teeth, he backed off, hands clenching and unclenching. ''No. Of course not. Dewey, take this man to whoever needs to look at his paperwork. Now. I want an answer in no less than an hour. Go or not.''
''Thank you, sir.'' Those eyes pinned him. ''I can trust you not to blow my house up while I'm gone, can't I?''
The ''pup'' was almost whispered, almost lost.
Knox glowered. ''I won't do it until I get the word.'' His ''asshole'' was not whispered at all.
''Temper, temper. Whatever would your mother say? Speaking that way to your elders?'' The man moved slowly, not intimidated, not worried in the least. Fucker.
Growling, he glared at Freddy. ''Elder my ass. Tell the crew to get lunch. I'll have my phone. I'm going for a drive.''
''Sure, boss. You want me to just stay here? Watch the...''
They moved away from the site, towards the trucks when the charge on the porch fired. The one that motherfucker had touched.
He and Freddy went flat, knocked right off their feet, and damned if the place didn't start going off like the fourth of July. His ears rang, his face stinging and his back getting pelted with debris. Luckily everything else went in like it was supposed to, the house folding in on itself.
Only the porch landed half out in the street.
God fucking damn it.