Death Dancer
(Dangerous Dancers #2)
By Tara Lain
Blurb:
A tattooed dancer and a by-the-book detective dance with death in the ego-fueled halls of ballet.
Bad boy of ballet, Valentin “Val” Aalto stands poised on the verge of huge success -- except for one big obstacle. Influential lead dancer Harry Hardesty hates Val and cheats him out of the lead in Romeo and Juliet. When Hardesty winds up dead, Val looks like a prime suspect – and gets thrown under the detailed and methodical inspection of the handsome NY detective with the stick up his butt, Andrew Preston. At first, Preston believes Hardesty may be the victim of the chilling Dancer Killer who’s struck three victims, but evidence stacks up against Val. Still, Andrew can’t seem to keep his hands off his suspect and when the Dancer Killer starts stalking Val, Andrew is forced to choose between his dedication to a job he loves – and his growing passion for his beautiful dancer. Together Val and Andrew discover that chaos can be beautiful, one should choose desserts wisely, and love can even trump death in the rehearsal halls of ballet.
Available for Pre-Order at
Release Date:
November 1, 2016
Excerpts
Val gritted his teeth but didn’t reply. He
just wrapped the towel over his longish wet hair and ruffled it dry. When he
pulled it off, Mr. Cop-out had his eyes glued to Val’s package. The scrutiny
made said package want to stand up and show off.
The cop cleared his throat. “I’m Detective
Andrew Preston with the NYPD. I’m investigating a homicide related to one of
the members of this company. Your director said all of you dancers are to
answer questions before leaving today. It doesn’t look like you’re planning to
make yourself subject to those instructions.”
Val plopped his naked butt on the bench
and let his cock drape down between his legs. Get a good look there, Copo. “To quote an old movie, I don’t
consider myself subject to much at all, Detective, but in fact, I didn’t get
those instructions since I was
meeting with the director of the company at the time they were likely being
given.”
“I see.”
“And I have every intention of leaving
here quickly and diving to the bottom of a vodka bottle shortly thereafter, so
if you’ve got questions, ask them fast.”
Preston raised a perfectly shaped dark eyebrow.
“I wouldn’t have thought an athlete would indulge quite so freely.”
“Yeah, well, when assholes throw their
weight around and take what’s rightfully mine, I figure I’ve earned a little
fucking indulgence.” He blew out his breath. “Sorry. Ask your questions.”
Preston carefully removed a notebook and a
pen from his breast pocket.
Val grinned. “You’re kidding? I feel like
I’ve gone back in time to some black and white TV show where you’re going to
say—”
“Just the facts, sir.”
Val’s eyes flashed to Preston’s. He
couldn’t be serious—then Val smiled. The cop’s light green eyes danced with a
very charming mischief.
“So you get that a lot.”
“Yes. I’m afraid my penchant for
organization receives mixed reviews.”
Val smiled. Cute. “Okay. Shoot there, Sherlock.”
“How well did you know Donald Fornazy?”
“Not at all, I’m afraid. Not even his
name. We had a couple scenes together. Nothing much.”
“Is that unusual, not to know someone in
your own company?”
Val felt the crease pop between his brows.
“Not really. There are a lot of dancers here. I’m not a member of the corps and
I don’t live here. Most of my friends aren’t members of the company.” He
shrugged. “The young man was neither a great enough dancer for me to notice him
professionally, nor enough my type to notice him personally.”
That got a rise out of both Preston’s
eyebrows.
Val shook his head. “I’m sorry. I’m not
trying to make light of this man’s murder. I’m just in a rotten mood. Don’t
mind me.”
“Care to elaborate?”
“It doesn’t relate to your case.”
Preston gazed at him for a long second,
then looked down at his notebook. “Do you have any idea why someone would want
to kill him?”
“Can’t imagine. I heard that some other dancers
have been killed, which is pretty damned shocking. Hell, we’re society’s
frippery. Spangles on the ass cheeks of civilization. Hardly a threat to
anyone.”
His eyes opened wide. Dark. Why am I awake? He shivered. No
so-called uncles trying to slip in beside him or boys sneaking in to drop ice
in his bed.
A sound, between a scratch and a squeak,
sent the feel of that long-remembered ice down his back. Don’t move yet.
Squrunch.
Woosh, Squrucnch.
Where? The
door? Too close. The window then?
Shit, the branch Andrew had freaked over.
Val’s heart slammed so hard it had to make a sound. The sheets over him
actually shook.
Andrew.
He snaked out a hand and grabbed his cell
phone. He pulled it under the covers.
Speed dial, baby.
One ring. Two. Three— “Preston.” Thanks for police reflexes.
He put his head under the covers and
whispered, “Andrew. It’s me.”
“I know. Why are you whispering? What’s
wrong?”
“Someone’s trying to break in, I think.”
“Shit. Jump out of bed. Yell into the
phone. Make it clear you’re talking to the police. Turn on all the lights. Now.
Go.”
Val threw back the covers, grabbed for the
bedside light and flipped it on, half expecting to see some killer standing in
his room, but nobody. “Police. Get here now! Someone’s breaking into my
apartment. Hurry. Please!” He raced around the apartment, turning on every
light.
Andrew’s voice, panting. “What do you
see?”
“Nothing. No one’s here.”
“Look out the window, but stand back in
case he has a gun.”
“Shit. Seriously?”
“No, it’s okay. Don’t do it.”
“Hell.” He sidled to the window, pulled
back the blinds and looked out. A sliver of light from his apartment shone into
the darkness outside, although darkness was relative and his street pretty much
never got more than dim. Staring between the buildings, he might have caught a
glimpse of movement below, but it could have been a cat or a shadow. “I don’t
see anything.”
A siren cut through the general noise of
traffic that created the background of Val’s world. Nothing unusual about
sirens, but this one got closer. Andrew was still breathing hard. Was he
running? Val looked again. “I hear the black and whites.”
“Yeah. Just pulled up in front of your
building, I think. They’ll buzz. Don’t let them in until I tell you.” The tinny
squawk of a police radio sounded in the background. Andrew seemed to be
talking. He came back on the cell. “Have they buzzed?”
The buzzer sounded.
“Yeah. Just now.”
“Okay. Let them in. I’ll be there in a
second.”
Val started to the door where the buzzer
was, stopped and laughed.
“What?”
“I forgot I’m bare-assed. I’d better grab
my jeans fast. See you in a second.” Still chuckling, he hit the buzzer,
grabbed his pants from the floor and was zipping them as the police knocked on
his door. New stair speed records. He
opened.
The young female cop’s eyes widened just a
little. “Valentin Aalto?”
He nodded.
“I understand you had an attempted break-in?”
Two male cops in uniform stood behind her.
“I think so, but I’m not sure. Come in
while I grab a shirt.”
Her half smile said ‘not on my account’,
but she didn’t voice it. “Tell me what happened, sir.”
He pulled a long-sleeved T-shirt over his
head. “I was asleep. I’m a light sleeper. I woke up and heard a strange sound,
like a scrunching and a squeaking. I might not have thought anything about it
since I’d double-locked the door, but An— Detective Preston inspected this
apartment and suggested the limbs on the tree outside should be cut since they
hang near the apartment windows. I got worried and called him.”
“Why didn’t you dial nine-one-one?”
Val speared her with his eyes. “I’m a
dancer with the NYBT. Detective Preston is investigating the murders of
dancers. He was my first thought. Is there a problem with that?”
“Of course not.” She turned to the male
officers. “Check the tree and the area around it. The apartment window from the
outside also, although we may have to come back with a ladder. I’ll look at it
from in here.”
“No, thank you, Officer. I will.”
Oh, man,
was Andrew a sight to make a scared dancer’s heart go pitty-pat.
Dangerous Dancers Series
Golden Dancer
(Dangerous Dancers Series, #1)
By Tara Lain
Available for purchase at
About the Author
Tara Lain writes the Beautiful Boys of Romance in LGBT erotic romance novels that star her unique, charismatic heroes. Her first novel was published in January of 2011 and she’s now somewhere around book 32. Her best-selling novels have garnered awards for Best Series, Best Contemporary Romance, Best Paranormal Romance, Best Ménage, Best LGBT Romance, Best Gay Characters, and Tara has been named Best Writer of the Year in the LRC Awards. In her other job, Tara owns an advertising and public relations firm. She often does workshops on both author promotion and writing craft. She lives with her soul-mate husband and her soul-mate dog near the sea in California where she sets a lot of her books. Passionate about diversity, justice, and new experiences, Tara says on her tombstone it will say “Yes”!
You can find Tara at Lain
Presented By
