Blog Tour ~ Two Weeks to Life ~ by ~ John Charles


Title: Two Weeks to Life
Series: Fated Soulmates
Author: John Charles
Genre: M/M Romance
Release Date: March 15, 2017

After thirty years on the force, Detective Carl Bellwin thought he’d seen it all. He had developed a protective shield around himself, keeping the rape, murder, drugs, and other crimes compartmentalized and away from his emotions. He didn’t have time to date, didn’t have time to socialize, and didn’t have time for hobbies. The force was his life, but his protective shield was crumbling.

An innocent girl was missing. Her single mother grieved, wondering if she would be planning a funeral. The seedy part of Clarkesburgh had become the hunting ground for a gang that kidnapped teens off the street, forced retailers to launder money and sell their drugs, and victimized anyone who stood in their way. Carl, at whits end, had no leads.

Elijah Quinta traded one high stress job for another. Purchasing a bankrupt Inn and developing it into a five star resort became more than his full time job: The Bliss Inn became his life. Though he tried, anyone he dated accused him of having a mistress. They were right; he was married to the inn.

Carl never thought attending his nephew’s wedding would change his life. For the first time, he realized what he was missing. Everything he thought was important faded into the background. When he met Elijah, Carl’s life took on a new meaning.

Could he turn Two Weeks To Life? Could he let go of the only world he had ever known?

“Another missing girl? What is that, four in as many months?” Detective Carlin Bellwin, Carl to everyone except his mother, asked Fran, his partner. “How do these kids disappear without a trace?” His frustration clearly evident in his voice and the sour look on his face. “Meet you at the car in five. Just need to get rid of that cup of coffee.”

Carl was a career detective who knew his way around Clarkesburgh and the criminal population that infested his city. He had a hard-on for anyone who hurt a kid, sold drugs, or took advantage of the elderly. Snatching a girl off the streets was one of the worst things for him. Prostitution rings were notorious for the cavalier manner in which they corrupted young boys and girls, but snatching and selling them into prostitution was one thing he could not tolerate.
Fran was in her usual spot, behind the wheel of their unmarked Ford reading over the missing person report. She looked almost as young as the girl in the file did. As the passenger door opened, she could feel the strength of the man who trained her and chose her as his partner, fold his tall frame into the seat next to her.
Clarkesburgh was a city with over half million people living within its borders. When the influx of working commuters was counted, that number increased to over three quarters of a million people. Though not as big as some neighboring cities, Clarkesburgh attracted its share of criminals, thugs, prostitutes, and drug dealers.
Carl made sure Fran understood why she was a detective. “There are people out there who think nothing of hurting others to better their own lives. It’s our job to make sure that doesn’t happen and whenever it does, to put these guys away so they can’t do it again. Stay alert, ask lots of questions, and never turn your back on anyone. That may be the last time you do.”
“What do we know?” asked Carl as he looked over the file Fran handed him.
“Only what’s in the file. White, 16 years old, good student, works part time to help support the family, never in trouble before, no drugs, no record of any kind.” She pulled away from the station, heading to the girl’s home. She knew the drill, question the parents, find a reason for the girl to go missing. Then trace her steps for the past few days. Talk to teachers, friends, her boss at the dry cleaning store where she worked. She also knew they would come up empty handed. Everyone will say they had no idea what could have happened to her. Then the real work would begin.
“You never told me who was getting married,” said Fran as she drove.
“My nephew Trent. He and his partner decided to go all the way and tie the knot.” Carl leaned his head back for a rare minute of personal thought. Trent had moved to a suburb of L.A. to take a residency in emergency medicine at Lake Community Hospital. When a position at Amity General had become vacant, he applied and was hired. He moved back for the job almost two years ago.
“Isn’t he the one who was shot by that lunatic?” Asked Fran looking at her partner. “If I remember what you told me, he was having dinner with his boy friend and his kids when a man shot him.”
Trent was openly gay. He had the self-confidence rarely found in a young gay man and the body to support that confidence. When the homophobic father of the paramedic he was dating tried to shoot the man’s two kids, Trent’s quick actions saved their lives. Unfortunately, he was shot in the process.
“Yeah, that’s the one. The bullet did a ton of damage but everything seems fine now.”
“You’ve been looking forward to this ever since you got the invitation. Why are you only staying the weekend? God knows, you have the accrued time. Why don’t you take a week or two and have some fun with the family?”
Carl gave Fran his ‘are you kidding me’ look. “What would I do for a week with my family? We talk all the time, so all the catching up will be done in an hour. What would I do for the rest of the week?”
“Relax, go out to dinner with friends, find a hot guy and get laid. You know, all the stuff normal people do on vacation,” laughed Fran as she pulled the car up to the curb. The house was typical for this area of Clarkesburgh. It might have been a hundred years old, but looked well kept. Painted white with black shutters adjacent to the windows, the house looked as if the owners cared. The small lawn was recently cut and the gardens were free of weeds.
Carl took the file and his notebook as he and Fran walked to the door of the small house. It was refreshing to be in one of the nicer parts of town. Most of their work had them in the seedy, drug infested, gang hoods. But Carl didn’t like this situation at all. A girl was missing and most likely, the parents were frantic with worry and fear.
Two officers, already on scene, acknowledged them as they approached the front door. “The parents inside?” asked Carl. One officer nodded and stepped aside to let Carl and Fran enter the home.
A little more than an hour later Carl and Fran walked back to their car. The girl’s mother didn’t stop crying long enough for any intelligent discussion. She was a single mother raising two kids on her own. The father vacated the scene years ago, provided no support either financially or in person. Not unusual for the city they worked in.
A neighbor was more help telling the detectives about the girl’s schedule, hobbies, and other tidbits of information. Fran took copious notes as Carl asked questions.
At one point, when the mother stopped crying, Fran asked, “Does your daughter date anyone?” Both women in the room shook their heads. Fran didn’t let them know her thoughts about how squeaky clean this girl seemed. ‘She’s just too clean.’
“We’ll be in contact with you if we need any further information,” said Carl as he and Fran left the home. The two uniformed officers had already returned to their normal duties. While it might seem cruel, there was too much to do and too few officers to do it, so the ladies were left to their grief.
“Something’s not right,” said Fran as she started the car. “They know something and are afraid to tell us.” They drove in silence, each digesting the information they had just received. “Who will I be partnered with?”
The question brought Carl from his thoughts. He didn’t want to leave Fran alone, especially on a case like this, so he asked Captain Syverson to assign another detective to her while he was at Trent’s wedding. “Syverson will let you know tomorrow. Today you’re stuck with me, at least until I leave.”
They pulled up to the drycleaners and parked. Fran looked around as if trying to spot the criminal. Carl sat in silence, letting the vibe of the area sink into his bones. “I don’t like this. There are too few people on the street, so stay sharp.” He extricated his large frame from the car, keeping his free hand on the revolver holstered under his jacket.
The store was located in a less then friendly part of town. Years prior, this store probably had an upscale clientele, but the neighborhood declined as the more affluent moved away. Now the store probably provided the owner with a meager living at best. Fran rounded the car joining him as they entered the store.
An older, frail man stood behind the counter. His eyes grew wide as Fran showed her badge. “What is this about? I run a clean business here.”
As with the others, he had no real information. The girl, Nadia, was nice to his customers, did her job well, and never caused any trouble. He seemed genuinely upset that she was missing. His frown said more than his words.
Fran had always been impressed with Carl’s manner of questioning witnesses and suspects. He seemed not only compassionate, but genuinely concerned. Even suspects felt at ease around him. For a big man, he had an inner teddy bear that came out at the most perfect of times. “It seems that you know more than you are sharing with us, sir. Might that be because you, too, are afraid?”
The man seemed to wither deeper into his already withered skin. Shaking his head, he said, “I’m an old man and just want to live long enough to see my grandchildren. Please you must leave now.” Carl nodded and left with Fran in tow.
“He is scared out of his whits,” said Carl as Fran drove away. “You need to make sure nothing happens to him. Let’s get back to the station. I hate to leave you on this one, but I have to get a move on.”
“How long is the drive to Amity from here?”
“I’m staying in Monroe at the place Trent and Matthew reserved for out of towners. If I leave as soon as we get back, I should be there by 10 or so. Not looking forward to the drive, but I can’t wait to see Trent walk down the aisle.”
“You deserve as much. Are you just a bit jealous?”
Carl thought through that question. He had met two people in his life that could have become his lifelong partner, but neither could tolerate his hours. Both complained that he was always being called away, that they didn’t have any together life, and they couldn’t live like that. After the last episode ended over ten years prior, he decided to go it alone – at least until he retired. Then he could find that someone special and settle down.
“Sometimes it does bother me, but I made my decision and I’m not budging. After I retire, and only then, will I allow a man to get under my skin again.”
Larry Thomas aka John Charles spent his youth struggling with reading. Not until his late teens did he discover the cause – dyslexia. Only then, with guidance and professional help, did he learn to read. From that point forward, he discovered his love for the printed word.

 

Ironically, as a father reading to his children his desire to write was born. Reading to his children was a nightly ritual. “I wanted them to fall in love with books.”

 

Writing was always part of his professional career, but not until he retired did he move from creating marketing and technical materials to writing novels. Now, as a full-time author, Larry writes Romance / Mystery / Thrillers using the pseudonym John Charles.

His books can be found on Amazon and wherever e-books are sold.

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Blog Tour ~ Architect of Love ~ by ~ John Charles

Title: Architect of Love
Series: Fated Soulmates #2
Author: John Charles
Genre: M/M Romance
Published: November 27, 2016

 


 

He could work miracles with His Hands
Lance Bartner loved working with his hands, made his living refinishing furniture. Nights out were for fun with friends and the occasional hook-up. Though the L word had never been spoken, he would have enjoyed a relationship had the right man crossed his path. But who would want a laborer like Lance? He wasn’t college educated, didn’t live in a fancy loft condo, didn’t drive a Lexus, and didn’t even own a suit.
Forrest Dentren, was an architect and city planner who had become a local name when his design for the Monroe City Center was chosen as one of the top three contenders. Well educated, extremely well built, and as both men and women put it, just plain hot. Some said he was married to his job, others said he was too picky, many said he didn’t want to share the spotlight.

 

One hot, uninhibited sex-filled night



When Forrest broke his routine and went clubbing on a weeknight, he spotted Lance. The attraction was immediate from both sides of the dance floor. They both felt it. A few drinks later, still feeling it, they left for Lance’s apartment.

It was never supposed to turn into anything more than one hot fuck

Two people from opposite ends of the world, no roadmap, not directions, no ideas how to make it work.

Architect Of Love is a hot and steamy, gay romance novel with no cliffhangers. It is the second book in The Fated Soulmates series and can be read as a standalone.


“This is a steamy and yet also endearingly sweet romance. For a sexy good time, characters to love, and a good combination of sweet and spicy, this gets 8/10 fountain pens.” – A. M. Leibowitz

“This was a good book about how being insecure can destroy what may be the best things in your life.” –  Gay Book Reviews

“Its a fun read, a good story, realistic with characters I could get behind, and a sensible mix of story v sex. Stars: Four, a great read with realistic storyline.” –  Jeannie Zelos book reviews

“If you like sexy architects, hot craftsmen, fated love, second chance, not a lot of sex but just enough to heat up a story and an all around good, sweet romance this is for you.” – Cathy Brockton



The tall blond kicked the door closed with his foot as he pinned the shorter, more muscular man against the wall. One hand held the shorter man’s hands above his head, the other a handful of his shirt.

 

“Lance is a pretty name for such a muscular guy. Why’d your mother name you that?” His face was mere inches from Lance’s. They breathed the same air as they stared into the other man’s eyes.

 


 

“She has a thing for different names. Don’t ask me why, she just does.” Lance was almost hyperventilating; his brown eyes were wide with curious anticipation, the pupils dilated. “I might ask what was in your mother’s mind when she named you Forrest. Were you conceived in the woods?”

 


 

A growl emitted from the tall blond. He pushed Lance harder against the wall, his entire body now firmly against the shorter man. “Never asked where they fucked and don’t want to know, but the name works for me. Does Lance suit you? Are you?”

 


 

“That’s a rather personal question, don’t you think? After all, we just met.” Lance struggled to keep his body under control. He could feel the heat emanating from Forrest, his breath smelled of Scotch, his muscles were taught as a lion’s ready to pounce. His groin pressed just above Lance’s and it was hard with desire as was his own.

 


 

They held eye contact for a long minute then Forrest moved his head, slowly as if testing the space between them. Lance followed his full lips as they neared his own. They were heavy with lust, slightly open, tongue barely visible. When they touched his, he felt a tingle down to his toes. He moaned.

 


 

Forrest held Lance in place, as he tasted the shorter man. Beer mingled with breath mint met his tongue as he pushed to gain control. He heard Lance’s moan and continued to push for more. His body was ready to burst. He felt Lance’s heat against his and knew the man wanted what he presented.

 


 

Suddenly as if on attack, Lance twisted in the taller man’s arms. He forced Forrest around and pressed him against the wall where his back had lain seconds prior. “How does it feel now?” he whispered unable to voice anything louder. “You want more? Can you handle it or are the trees too big, Forrest?”

 


 

Forrest could feel Lance’s long, calloused fingers holding his wrists. Short, muscular legs stood outside his encasing him. The hand pushing against his chest caused his heartbeat to sound and feel harder and louder. It was his turn to hyperventilate. “I can take anything you throw at me. Care to try something else or is this all you’ve got?”

 


 

Lance pulled Forrest from the wall keeping a tight grip on his wrists. He walked his captive backward to the couch at the far end of the small room. With a push, Forrest was lying on his back, Lance straddling him. For the first time, Forrest took in his surroundings. They were in a small, tidy apartment. The furniture looked old as if from garage sales or thrift stores. Though old, the couch felt soft and comfortable. A bookcase held a small TV and several hardcover books, the titles he couldn’t make out from where he lay. Warm, comfortable, masculine were his thoughts, thoughts that were interrupted as Lance sensuously moved his ass along Forrest’s throbbing erection. Lance’s actions brought a whimper of pain and pleasure from his lips.

 


 

Lance sat on Forrest wondering just how far he could go with this hot man who picked him out of all the other guys at The Hole, a club on the gay strip in the south end. He frequented the area. The clubs provided an easy way for him to satisfy his fantasies without too much involvement. He had been the one to pick up others most nights.

 


 

Tonight, though, he sat with two friends, no one interested him. Then this hot man, clearly out of Lance’s normal league, asked if he wanted a refill. That refill was not finished as they readily agreed to take the night further. A quick cab ride brought them to Lance’s apartment.

 


 

Slowly with a little uncertainty, he unbuttoned Forrest’s shirt revealing a solid hairless chest. “Mmm, smooth, just how I like my men,” he said as he pulled the shirt from Forrest’s too tight pants. Forrest lifted his butt as Lance pulled the shirt from his body and threw it to the side chair.

 


 

Forrest reached up and pulled Lance’s shirt over his head throwing it on top of his own. He ran his fingers threw the nest of dark hair on the smaller man’s powerful chest. Grabbing a handful, he pulled Lance down for a passionate kiss, one that had both men moaning into each other’s mouths.

 


 

Lust raged in both men. Lance moved down Forrest’s body rubbing his ass along his groin as he did. He unbuttoned his jeans, pulled the zipper down revealing what he thought – Forrest was commando, erect, and already dripping with lust. He lifted Forrest up enough to pull his pants to his thighs, then undid his own and threw them onto the growing pile of clothes.

 


 

When Forrest reached for Lance’s hardness, he was met with a calloused hand stopping him. “No, let me take care of both of us.” Lance moved up slightly, enough to put his cock against the one standing tall in front of him. Taking both into his rough hands, he used the wetness to slide up and down in a sensuous motion designed to cause both men to hurt with pleasure.

 


 

He leaned down, keeping his hands moving ever so slowly, and kissed those hot lips again. When he felt Forrest grab his ass, Lance moaned, spread his legs encouraging exploration. They were gasping for breath when Forrest shouted, “Oh Fuck,” and came so hard his body spasmed. Lance followed seconds later. He laid his head on Forrest’s chest trying to get control of his breathing and listening to the man below him gasping for air.

 


 

The cab ride to his apartment had Forrest dwelling on the man who took his breath away. Not his normal type, Lance was shorter, more muscular, had dark hair contrasting Forrest’s blond hair and emerald green eyes. He was clearly a man who worked with his hands, not a professional, but could hold his own. Their conversations were interesting, intelligent, and broad in scope. Forrest had learned to stay away from politics and religion. He was pleased that Lance didn’t broach those topics either.

 


 

Forrest had a busy life, busy work schedule, and firm rules about living that life. He didn’t go out on work nights. He didn’t break his rules. He was tired and would pay for his indulgences in the morning.

 


 

Lance didn’t fit his type. Normally Forrest went for the younger twinks. Muscles were not usually a turn on for him, but damn if this guy broke that rule, too. He allowed himself to close his eyes for a minute seeing the broad shoulders of the man pinning him down on the couch. Though shorter, Lance was clearly stronger. He wondered just how far this one nighter might have gone if it were not a work night.

 


 

His dreams were interrupted by the cabbie announcing they were at his destination. He paid, gave the man a good tip and made his way into the three-story building. He took the stairs two at a time and entered his own apartment. Keys, wallet, loose change was thrust into the blue glass bowl near the door. Shoes removed, Forrest wiggled his toes in the thick white carpet beneath his feet.

 


 

What a night, he thought as he made his way to the master bedroom. A hot shower was in order. The water flowed over his tall solid body. Eyes closed, head under the spray, he tried to clear his mind. Water ran down his back, between his ass cheeks, and along his sculpted thighs. His body was the result of years of healthy eating and hard work at the gym. His mind refused to settle down even as his muscles did. The image of Lance against the wall, eyes wide with anticipation, heart beating fast, his hardness pressing into his leg, those lips as they kissed filled his mind.

 


 

Enough! He quickly finished washing, dried his smooth body, and settled into his bed, naked and hard again. Get some sleep Forrest; you have a busy week ahead of you. Never breaking this rule again!

 

Larry Thomas aka John Charles spent his youth struggling with reading. Not until his late teens did he discover the cause – dyslexia. Only then, with guidance and professional help, did he learn to read. From that point forward, he discovered his love for the printed word.

 


 

Ironically, as a father reading to his children his desire to write was born. Reading to his children was a nightly ritual. “I wanted them to fall in love with books.”

 

Writing was always part of his professional career, but not until he retired did he move from creating marketing and technical materials to writing novels. Now, as a full-time author, Larry writes Romance / Mystery / Thrillers using the pseudonym John Charles.
His books can be found on Amazon and wherever e-books are sold.

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