There are only ten more days to go before the first annual Rainbow Convention kicks off in Tampa, Florida, so to celebrate the countdown, Allison Cassatta is offering the chance for one lucky reader to win an e-copy of all three books in her Sin & Seduction series. That’s Sin & Seduction, Lies & Seduction, and the just released final chapter in the trilogy, The Final Seduction.
THIS CONTEST IS NOW CLOSED
Dorian Grant is king of the New Orleans underworld, but he isn’t mafia and doesn’t appreciate the assumption. He’s simply a crude businessman anyone in his right mind would think twice about screwing over. Life in the Big Easy is all about sin, and violent, short-tempered Dorian has committed them all.
But not all New Orleans sins leave a bad taste in the mouth, as Dorian discovers the night a man stage-named Sweet Heat dances into his life at a club called Sin & Seduction. Dorian was expecting a hot lay. He damn sure wasn’t looking for a relationship, and certainly not with someone like Jansen, who turns Dorian’s grimly organized world upside down.
Now Dorian finds himself pressuring Jansen to quit his job because he can’t stand the thought of other men touching what’s his. Of course, Jansen wants a little quid pro quo—after all, Dorian’s job is dangerous. Jansen just doesn’t realize how dangerous until it’s too late.
Jason’s life sucks. First Jansen, the best friend he was in love with, gets married to a man Jason considers the scum of the earth. Then he has to deal with a coworker with a mad crush on him. He manages a deli during the day and the stage of a nightclub at night. For him, chaos is a way of life—nothing could possibly make it worse. Until he meets a presumably straight local celebrity at the club and his real problems begin.
Bradley Britt has it all: fame, a house in the suburbs, a wife, and a new baby daughter. Nobody knows it’s all a cover to hide who he really is. Jason is pure temptation for him, and he fears their first hookup won’t be the last. Even knowing he is risking his counterfeit world can’t stop him from falling for Jason. Complete honesty will endanger everything Bradley has worked for—but facing the facts is the only chance he has at true happiness.
Sin & Seduction is closing its doors for good, and Dorian Grant’s being arrested for murder. The world has finally spun off its axis, and everybody involved has a role to play.
In the midst of this tragedy and strife, “Golden Boy” Lance moves his heart out of no-man’s-land, thanks to a Portuguese beauty, Davi “Amante Quente,” who shakes his sweet little physique all over Sin & Seduction’s stage. But Lance can’t consider a future with someone else until he faces the issues that have kept him out of relationships in the past. His belief that love is a myth is high on that list.
Meanwhile, Jason’s relationship with Brad has turned surreally domestic. Their lives are consumed with raising Brad’s little girl. Couple that with the urgency of saving jobs, and Jason’s stress level skyrockets into the red.
Life looks grim for the Sin & Seduction crew, and it will take something close to a miracle to save them all.
Excerpt: The Final Seduction
“DORIAN GRANT, you’re under arrest for the murder of Leonard Antonio Cabrezzi.”
Dorian stood in the doorway, shoulders squared, chin held high, knowing good and well the law didn’t have a damn thing on him. Yeah, he knew Leonard Cabrezzi and had probably been seen throwing punches with the lowlife a time or two, but he sure as shit didn’t commit the crime the 5-0 were accusing him of.
Leo was the guy who’d shot Jansen and a general piece of shit in Dorian’s honest opinion. Leo’d had that bullet coming to him. Dorian’s only regret was not being the one to deliver.
“You have the right to remain silent,” the cop continued as he wrenched Dorian around by the arm. Damn near jerked it right out of the socket. “Anything you say can and will be—”
“Get the fuck off me,” Dorian demanded, yanking his arms back with a force strong enough to knock the cop right on his ass. The officer stumbled back a few steps, landing square against his partner’s chest.
With a growl, the obviously younger of the two jerked up and started forward, charging after Dorian so fast that when they connected, the force sent Dorian toppling back inside the house. The small of his back cracked the hard edge of this stupid, fancy foyer table his mom had bought back in the seventies but no one had the heart to get rid of. Damn thing was going to storage as soon as Dorian sorted all this crap out.
Pain erupted along Dorian’s backside. A stream of curses worthy of making a sailor flinch hurled from his lips. And while he wanted to tear that pig from limb to limb, Dorian had promised a long time ago to be a good boy, so he kept his hands to himself. Worst thing about all of this, he couldn’t keep Jansen from seeing any of it.
“You can’t come in here,” Dorian declared, jerking his torso and wrenching his arms. The weight of one man kept him pinned to the edge of the table. Dorian bucked and fought. Somehow they both ended up on the floor, tumbling around on the marble as if they were two kids in a schoolyard tussle.
Dorian could hardly move. The cop locked around him had him by a good fifty pounds and probably five inches of height, which didn’t sound like much until everyone was horizontal. Then, a body had a habit of turning to deadweight fast.
“Get the fuck off me!”
“Son,” the gray-haired cop standing over the fray in the floor said, “we can do what we want. We can tear this place apart and say we had a hard time findin’ ya. Know why?” Dorian glared, and the other man grinned wider as he held up a very official-looking document. “This here warrant says we can.”
The first cop pushed up off him, and Dorian lay with back flat against the floor, staring up at Jansen, who looked like he was about to burst into tears. Well, that just pissed Dorian right off. No one was going to come into his house, interrupt his romantic evening, and bring tears to his husband’s eyes. No way in hell.
“Fuck you, cop.” He pushed his elbows against the cool floor. “I want my lawyer.”
A boot connected with Dorian’s chest, putting him right back against the marble.
“Stop it!” Jansen screamed. “You’re hurting him!”
By God, the pain in Jansen’s voice was enough to crush Dorian’s hardened heart. By the look on his face and the glisten in his eyes, Jansen couldn’t deal with seeing Dorian being bullied the way he was. Dorian couldn’t deal with not soothing the man he loved.
At least the cops backed off. They didn’t help him up from the floor, but they stopped beating him down like a felon trying to resist. They left him lying there, sucking wind and holding his chest. By then, every inch of his body had started to throb. Older age was catching up, apparently. Revenge was looking rather tasty.
“Can I see the warrant?” Jansen asked rather calmly, holding out his hand.
Dorian knew damn well Jansen wouldn’t know the difference between a genuine, court-issued, judge-signed warrant for his arrest versus a fake made by one of Dorian’s many enemies. But he also knew that, if nothing else, his husband could put on a damn good show. That’s what he did. That’s what he was best at… performing.
The gray-haired officer slapped the paper against Jansen’s palm. Dorian climbed back to his feet and eased in next to his husband so he could look the paper over. Both cops kept one hand on their guns, as if Jansen or Dorian would do anything. Sure, Dorian had been a bad guy for a long time, but he’d backed off his criminal ways a while ago, even before they’d gotten married. He didn’t act like a freakin’ thug anymore. He was just a businessman who wanted to provide for his family.
“Dor,” Jansen said, voice quivering. “It’s the real thing.” He’d said it like a statement, but Dorian knew Jansen needed confirmation, that those trembling words were really a question Jansen needed to have answered. Dorian gave a little jerk of the chin, a subtle nod he knew Jansen would catch but everyone else would probably miss. “They have it signed by the judge and everything,” Jansen added for good measure. “You, um… you….”
As Dorian sucked in a breath so deep it made his big, tattooed chest expand, he closed his eyes and lowered his head, scrubbed his hand down his face, then exhaled. He had to resign himself to the idea of being behind bars. He’d come close to being thrown in jail before, and done enough shit to deserve a few years in prison, but the closest he’d ever come was a night here and there just to quench his temper. Nothing like this, though. Nothing close to being charged with murder.
“Fine,” Dorian said, raising his chin and squaring his shoulders. Being thrown in a cage like an animal didn’t scare him. He could protect himself. He hated the idea of losing his freedom, of not being able to keep Jansen safe, but he could do this with dignity.
“Baby, I need—”
“Can I at least get him a shirt?” Jansen asked in a low, shattered voice as if he hadn’t heard Dorian speaking at all.
“We should take him like this,” the younger cop said.
“No,” the gray-haired guy immediately responded. “There’s that stupid civil rights shit you rookies don’t know nothin’ ’bout.” He looked over at Jansen. “Make it quick. We ain’t waitin’ long.”