Buried Secrets

Gay Romance Mystery
Gay Romance Suspense
Gay Romance Crime

Available at AMAZON and Barnes and Noble and Smashwords and Kobo and Apple Books.
Find it on Goodreads here.

Story Summary:
Bryson Franklin made bad choices in his past. When he inherits his grandparents’ farm outside the small town of Willow River, however, he sees it as a chance for a fresh start. But patterns from his past resurface when Bryson takes up with Daniel Riggs, his bad boy neighbor, and he soon finds himself helping Daniel cover up a murder.


After Bryson breaks things off with Daniel, the kindness and attention of handsome sheriff’s deputy Sam LeClaire gives him hope, but when Daniel shows up on Bryson’s doorstep a year later, will Bryson be able to resist temptation?

Buried Secrets Story Excerpt:

Two weeks later, Bryson sat on the porch enjoying an unusually cool breeze for August and reading a book he’d been meaning to get to for years. He was in between freelance web design projects and had decided to treat himself to some relaxation. The sound of a car engine grabbed his attention and he looked up, watching his neighbor’s Mustang turn into his driveway. As the car approached, Bryson noted it was a few model years out of the showroom but still in good condition. It pulled up to the side of the porch and came to a stop. A man got out and stood beside the car, looking over the roof at Bryson a moment, one hand resting on the convertible top.

The visitor wore a cowboy hat that shaded the top half of his face, but Bryson was able to tell he had gray eyes, a tanned, handsome face, and dark stubble around full lips. Bryson was struck by the man and felt a strong, almost physical reaction to the sight of him.

“Howdy,” the man said with a flashing white smile. “I’m your neighbor just beyond the tree line. Thought I’d stop over now that you’re all settled in and welcome you to the area. Name’s Daniel Riggs.”

Bryson looked toward Daniel’s house, visible between the spaces of the trees. It had once belonged to the Weirs, a hard-working husband and wife with a number of kids all older than Bryson. The Weir kids had been just old enough that Bryson had never played with them when he had been visiting his grandparents. He set the book aside and got out of the chair, stepping down from the porch to meet Daniel halfway between his car, a hand extended in greeting. “Bryson Franklin. I just inherited the place from my grandparents.”

Daniel nodded. “I’ve lived here for a couple of years now, so I knew Tom and Jillian. They were good people. I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you, Mr. Riggs. That’s kind of you to say.”

“Call me Daniel.” He smiled, and the sight of those white teeth and the resulting dimples sent a rush of blood to Bryson’s cock.

“All right. Daniel, it is.” Bryson waved to the porch. “Would you like to sit a spell? I have a six pack in the refrigerator.”

“You know,” Daniel said, “a beer would really tamp down the heat a notch. But a beer and a shot of whiskey would do it even better.”

“Well, I don’t have any whiskey, sorry,” Bryson said.

Daniel thought a moment. “Tell you what. I’ve got a fifth of whiskey back at home. Why don’t I run and get it and bring some leftover fried chicken I’ve got in the icebox.”

“Well, now it sounds like some kind of party.”

“Call it your housewarming.” Daniel pulled open the car door and dropped into the seat. “Be right back.”

Bryson watched him drive off, then hurried inside. The breeze had cooled the interior of the house, and he took a deep breath to try and relax. He hadn’t spent any time with a man for a while, and he had no guarantee that Daniel Riggs was even gay. However, Bryson thought he’d detected a current running between them. And if he hadn’t been mistaken, Daniel had been looking him over more closely than any straight man would. He couldn’t recall if he’d brushed his teeth yet that day—one of the pitfalls of living alone—so he sprinted up the steps and frantically brushed his teeth. Minutes after Bryson had rinsed the toothpaste from his mouth, Daniel rapped on the screen door, rattling in its frame.

“Jesus, did he teleport back?” Bryson mumbled to himself. He hurried down the steps and stepped up to the door, pushing open the screen to allow Daniel inside.

Daniel stepped into the house holding a half full bottle of whiskey by the neck and a glass storage container filled with pieces of fried chicken. He stood just inside the doorway for a moment and looked around with a smile. “They just don’t build them like this anymore, do they?”

“Nope, they sure don’t.” Bryson led the way to the kitchen, very aware of Daniel following close behind, the heels of his boots hard against the polished wood floor.

Bryson pulled down glasses and plates from the cupboards and tore off a number of paper towels to use as napkins. He twisted off the caps of a couple of beers, and then sat across the long wood table from Daniel. As they ate the excellent cold fried chicken, took long pulls from the beers and tossed back shots of whiskey, Bryson was surprised to find himself talking and laughing more than he had in a long time. Daniel was easy to talk to and told quite a few humorous stories about his single life on his own farm.

After a few more drinks, Daniel shifted the conversation from polite to personal. He dropped a chicken bone onto his plate and sat back, using a paper towel to wipe off his fingers and lips as he stared at Bryson.

“You seeing anyone?” Daniel asked. His gray eyes were half closed and he smiled, sexy and sensuous, showing off the matching dimples in his cheeks. He’d removed his hat, and his thick, dark waves of hair were threaded with silver.

Bryson dropped his gaze to the chicken bones littering his own plate and spun his now empty glass. “Nope. All on my own.”

“No girlfriend?” Daniel asked, leaning up to pour more whiskey into Bryson’s glass. “Or boyfriend?”

Bryson looked at him quickly, surprised, as his heart pounded.

Daniel shrugged and leaned back again. “I don’t judge. To be honest, I’m no stranger to the taste of cock.”

“I…” Bryson’s throat closed up as heat swamped his face, the top of his head, and his chest, then settled into his crotch where he hardened fast. He had no idea how to respond to Daniel. How did men in rural towns meet up, anyway? Were there rules? Could this be some kind of trap to lure Bryson in and then make his life a living hell? But Bryson didn’t think that was the case. There was an addictive energy emanating from Daniel, and Bryson found himself craving more of it.

“It gets lonely out here,” Daniel explained, “and sometimes a man just needs to feel another man beside him.” He paused and grinned. “Or inside him.”

“I…” Bryson still couldn’t seem to form words. His cock throbbed, eager to be free of his restrictive jeans, and his mouth had gone dirt dry.

Available at AMAZON and Barnes and Noble and Smashwords and Kobo and Apple Books.
Find it on Goodreads here.