Fish Out of Water: Book Three
A tomcat, a psychopath, and a psychic walk into the desert to rescue the men they love…. Can everybody make it out with their skin intact?
PI Jackson Rivers and Defense Attorney Ellery Cramer have barely recovered from last November, when stopping a serial killer nearly destroyed Jackson in both body and spirit.
But their previous investigation poked a new danger with a stick, forcing Jackson and Ellery to leave town so they can meet the snake in its den.
Jackson Rivers grew up with the mean streets as a classroom and he learned a long time ago not to give a damn about his own life. But he gets a whole new education when the enemy takes Ellery. The man who pulled his shattered pieces from darkness and stitched them back together again is in trouble, and Jackson’s only chance to save him rests in the hands of fragile allies he barely knows.
It’s going to take a little bit of luck to get these Few Good Fish out alive!
Buy links: Dreamspinner | Amazon
Cat gives this one 5 Meows with a 2 Purr heat index...
This is book three of the Fish Out of Water Series and it is best you read them in order since the story sort of recur and you will know who all the characters are. So If you haven't read them grab A Fish Out of Water and Red Fish Dead Fish. Trust me you will fall in love with Jackson and Ellery. (Warning: If you haven't read any Amy Lane books, you may become addicted and want to buy her entire backlist!)
The Fish out of Water Series is a mystery suspense, that is so gripping once you start you won't want to stop. Jackson is a PI for a law firm and Ellery is the up and coming defense attorney. They come together working a case and become more than co-workers but it wasn't a love at first sight thing.
In A Few Good Fish: Ellery and Jackson have been on a two-month leave after the last case they closed. Jackson is recovering and not doing well. Ellery had made a pact with God that if Jackson lived through the events of the last book he would go to Synagogue. Jackson goes along but sits outside on a bench talking to an odd man he soon finds out is the Rabbi when he sees a young boy trying to put something on Ellery's car. He catches him finds out what he is doing, goes to the liquor store to find the man that hired him when he sees the owner has been tortured and killed so he wants to protect the boy. He and Ellery have a meeting with a client that has been framed and it brings them to Lacey the man over what happened in the other books. They knew they were going to face him sooner or later. They head out to talk to Ace and Sonny (also from the last book) when Ellery and Ace get kidnapped. This leads us to so much action, bonding, and some really shocking twists.
Ellery is sort of a stick up his but kind of person and scary in his own shark lawyer way. Jackson is scary in a street-smart but charming, mouthy way. Then we get more Ace and Sonny and a new character Ernie and Burton which are all so much fun and scary in their own rights.
this brings us to the first line of the blurb A Tomcat (Jackson, a psycho, Sonny and a Psychic, Ernie walk into the desert to save their men. I absolutely loved this line and couldn't wait to see how this fit in the story. Amy Lane writes such amazing characters and this book is chock full. Even Ellery's mom is so fun. She is a tough woman. The little boy that Jackson saved Anthony is so much like a young Jackson, then we get his family Jade, Mike and Kaden, and AJ. Each character adds a special touch to the story weaving such a magical, dram filled web.
The story is action-packed, nail-biting suspense, some hot man-sex, and an awe-inspiring, sigh-worthy relationship.
If you like MM contemporary romance, mystery/suspense, quirky characters, Private Investigators, lawyers, established couples, feisty kids and cats some hot mansex and love to die for this is for you!
I highly recommend this series!
Excerpt...
Burt and Ernie and the Fish in the Desert
ERNIE JAMES Caulfield looked around the little nontown of Victoriana with a feeling of intense joy. The place was mostly a gas station with a fast-food place on one side of the highway and a tiny garage with a house for the owners on the other. Desert surrounded it, and even in the encroaching fall the landscape was flat and unexciting, with saguaro and creosote bushes for miles.
But for Ernie, this was the best place on earth.
“Really?” He turned toward Burton, body practically thrumming with excitement. “I’m staying here?”
Lee Burton, the assassin who’d been sent to kill Ernie and who had rescued him instead, arched a suspicious eyebrow in his sculpted bronze-toned face and said nothing.
“It is, right? I mean, that house—it’s got an add-on to it. Like, new. Even the siding is new. That’s your place, right?”
Burton frowned. “How would you know that?”
Ernie grinned, unrepentant. “I heard you talking to Ace. He’s nice. Your voice said so.”
Burton’s frown intensified. “You were supposed to be asleep.”
Ernie bit his lip shyly. He had been, until he’d heard Burton talking next to him. He didn’t need the gift to reckon Lee was uncomfortable with where their relationship had gone mere hours after he’d bailed Ernie’s ass out of the fire.
Well, not that Ernie wasn’t slutty as hell on any given day, but the thing that had bloomed between him and Lee was based solely on the fact that when they looked at each other and touched, the world stopped spinning, and that included Ernie’s ever-questing, witchy trouble-magnet of a brain.
Ernie didn’t need to be slutty anymore. He’d found the safety he’d been looking for his entire life.
“Safety” just didn’t know it yet.
“I was mostly asleep,” Ernie soothed. “You like Ace.”
Burton let out a sigh. “Yeah. Ace is good people. Not educated, mind you, so—”
“He’s smart, though,” Ernie said sunnily. Yeah, he’d read that much from the voice on the other end of the phone. That and the fact that Burton was scary smart, and he’d never be able to tolerate someone not scary smart like he was. But he was also—whether he knew it or not—intuitive, in the same way Ernie was intuitive, but not nearly as powerful.
Burton could see through what people were supposed to be and right into what they were. He’d watched Ernie for days when he should have just done his job and shot. Ernie was still walking around converting oxygen because Burton had seen there was more to Ernie than a brainless party boy who liked to make donuts.
“Yeah, he’s smart.” Burton let out a sigh. “Look, kid—”
“You know my name.” Ernie knew all the tricks to making somebody not important. Calling him “kid” was just one.
“Ernie….” And it came out like a plea, just like it had in the hotel room they’d shared—in the bed they’d shared not hours ago.
“Yeah?” he said sweetly.
“I need to go away—you understand—”
“Under cover.” Ernie wasn’t stupid either. “The guy who put the hit out on me, he’s bad news—”
“And he’s legit. Like, a real guy in the real military, and he wanted you dead. I need to find a way to work for him so I know why. This isn’t…. The hit out on you should never have happened—”
“You’re not just saving me,” Ernie said. “You’re saving anybody who carried out orders in good faith.”
Burton started to grimace, but it came out a look of complete tenderness. “You’re so… so very wise.” Like he couldn’t help himself, he reached out and cupped Ernie’s cheek. “God… so pretty.” For a moment his muscles tensed and he was going to pull his hand back, but Ernie licked his lips on purpose, knowing it would make him look soft and vulnerable, and wanting Burton to kiss him at least one more time before he fled.
Burton didn’t disappoint him. He leaned forward, claiming Ernie’s mouth with his own, and Ernie opened for him, as soft and as giving as he knew how to be.
He knew a lot. He was a sexual genius, mostly, and it took Burton a whole thirty seconds before he was groaning into Ernie’s mouth and trying to haul him across the center island of the SUV they were sitting in.
Ernie would have gone. Ernie would have shucked his jeans and sat on Burton’s cock if that’s what it would take to get Burton to commit, but the damned SUV was too small, and Burton smacked his elbow on the steering wheel in mid-Ernie-maul maneuver.
“Ouch!” He jerked back, letting Ernie go and looking damned embarrassed. “Dammit. Why can’t I…. It’s weird what you do to me, kid.”
“Ernie,” Ernie whispered throatily. “Don’t go. Stay here. We can have all the sex you want until it doesn’t seem so strange anymore that you want me. You can quit being an assassin super-black-ops guy and be my guy. Nobody will even know our names.”
He pulled in a quick breath, surprised at himself. That’s not what he’d intended to come out of his mouth at all, even a little.
Burton was looking as torn as a man could get. “Ernie… I… even if I come back, I might not be the guy for—”
Ernie pulled away and opened his door. “Let’s go meet Ace and Sonny,” he said, not wanting to hear it. At least when Burton was talking to his friend, Ernie wouldn’t have to hear him lie, not to himself and not to Ernie. “Will you at least be able to come visit over holidays?” he asked after he’d slid out.
Burton stopped and grabbed the duffel of clothes they’d bought Ernie on their way from Albuquerque. They’d had to leave Ernie’s little apartment, with his cats and everything, without stopping to get clothes. Burton had called the super and made arrangements for the cats—mostly strays that would just show up unbidden—and Ernie didn’t want to know what a colossal pain in the ass tying up that loose end had been.
But Burton had done it for him. It wasn’t even part of his job, just like being Ernie’s savior wasn’t part of his job, and Ernie didn’t want to think of the prices Lee Burton had paid for stepping out of himself in order to successfully not kill Ernie James Caulfield’s scrawny psychic ass.
But he had. And he seemed to be willing to pay any price needed to keep Ernie as happy as possible, considering he was a target or a dead man or worse.
Ernie was going to just keep on hoping the man would recognize that what they shared in the hotel room on the way here didn’t happen every time two men met, fell into each other’s eyes, and touched each other’s bare skin.
“No,” Burton said, sighing. “No, I won’t see you for Thanksgiving. Do you have the phone I bought you?”
Ernie nodded. “Yeah.” Clean, untraceable. It had been preloaded with Ace’s number, Sonny’s number, and Burton’s number.
The end.
“I’ll text you when I can.”
Ernie brightened. “I’ll text you when you can’t.”
Lee Burton gave out a groan and clapped his hands over his eyes. “Kid—”
“Ernie.”
“Ernie—”
“Don’t worry. Once you start thinking about me, I’ll fill in the gaps in the conversation just fine.” That wasn’t really how the gift worked, except Ernie was pretty sure he’d be just as connected to Burton from however far away as he was now.
“That, uh, actually makes me a little itchy…,” Burton said, slamming his door in a fit of what was probably pique.
Ernie smiled, so relieved he couldn’t let Burton piss on his parade. “It shouldn’t. You just have to tell the truth. To yourself. Especially to yourself.”
Burton’s low moan reassured Ernie to no end. It meant the man believed him. Took him seriously. Would work hard to be as truthful as possible.
Ernie already knew what Burton felt for him. He could wait until Burton figured it out in his own head.
ERNIE JAMES Caulfield looked around the little nontown of Victoriana with a feeling of intense joy. The place was mostly a gas station with a fast-food place on one side of the highway and a tiny garage with a house for the owners on the other. Desert surrounded it, and even in the encroaching fall the landscape was flat and unexciting, with saguaro and creosote bushes for miles.
But for Ernie, this was the best place on earth.
“Really?” He turned toward Burton, body practically thrumming with excitement. “I’m staying here?”
Lee Burton, the assassin who’d been sent to kill Ernie and who had rescued him instead, arched a suspicious eyebrow in his sculpted bronze-toned face and said nothing.
“It is, right? I mean, that house—it’s got an add-on to it. Like, new. Even the siding is new. That’s your place, right?”
Burton frowned. “How would you know that?”
Ernie grinned, unrepentant. “I heard you talking to Ace. He’s nice. Your voice said so.”
Burton’s frown intensified. “You were supposed to be asleep.”
Ernie bit his lip shyly. He had been, until he’d heard Burton talking next to him. He didn’t need the gift to reckon Lee was uncomfortable with where their relationship had gone mere hours after he’d bailed Ernie’s ass out of the fire.
Well, not that Ernie wasn’t slutty as hell on any given day, but the thing that had bloomed between him and Lee was based solely on the fact that when they looked at each other and touched, the world stopped spinning, and that included Ernie’s ever-questing, witchy trouble-magnet of a brain.
Ernie didn’t need to be slutty anymore. He’d found the safety he’d been looking for his entire life.
“Safety” just didn’t know it yet.
“I was mostly asleep,” Ernie soothed. “You like Ace.”
Burton let out a sigh. “Yeah. Ace is good people. Not educated, mind you, so—”
“He’s smart, though,” Ernie said sunnily. Yeah, he’d read that much from the voice on the other end of the phone. That and the fact that Burton was scary smart, and he’d never be able to tolerate someone not scary smart like he was. But he was also—whether he knew it or not—intuitive, in the same way Ernie was intuitive, but not nearly as powerful.
Burton could see through what people were supposed to be and right into what they were. He’d watched Ernie for days when he should have just done his job and shot. Ernie was still walking around converting oxygen because Burton had seen there was more to Ernie than a brainless party boy who liked to make donuts.
“Yeah, he’s smart.” Burton let out a sigh. “Look, kid—”
“You know my name.” Ernie knew all the tricks to making somebody not important. Calling him “kid” was just one.
“Ernie….” And it came out like a plea, just like it had in the hotel room they’d shared—in the bed they’d shared not hours ago.
“Yeah?” he said sweetly.
“I need to go away—you understand—”
“Under cover.” Ernie wasn’t stupid either. “The guy who put the hit out on me, he’s bad news—”
“And he’s legit. Like, a real guy in the real military, and he wanted you dead. I need to find a way to work for him so I know why. This isn’t…. The hit out on you should never have happened—”
“You’re not just saving me,” Ernie said. “You’re saving anybody who carried out orders in good faith.”
Burton started to grimace, but it came out a look of complete tenderness. “You’re so… so very wise.” Like he couldn’t help himself, he reached out and cupped Ernie’s cheek. “God… so pretty.” For a moment his muscles tensed and he was going to pull his hand back, but Ernie licked his lips on purpose, knowing it would make him look soft and vulnerable, and wanting Burton to kiss him at least one more time before he fled.
Burton didn’t disappoint him. He leaned forward, claiming Ernie’s mouth with his own, and Ernie opened for him, as soft and as giving as he knew how to be.
He knew a lot. He was a sexual genius, mostly, and it took Burton a whole thirty seconds before he was groaning into Ernie’s mouth and trying to haul him across the center island of the SUV they were sitting in.
Ernie would have gone. Ernie would have shucked his jeans and sat on Burton’s cock if that’s what it would take to get Burton to commit, but the damned SUV was too small, and Burton smacked his elbow on the steering wheel in mid-Ernie-maul maneuver.
“Ouch!” He jerked back, letting Ernie go and looking damned embarrassed. “Dammit. Why can’t I…. It’s weird what you do to me, kid.”
“Ernie,” Ernie whispered throatily. “Don’t go. Stay here. We can have all the sex you want until it doesn’t seem so strange anymore that you want me. You can quit being an assassin super-black-ops guy and be my guy. Nobody will even know our names.”
He pulled in a quick breath, surprised at himself. That’s not what he’d intended to come out of his mouth at all, even a little.
Burton was looking as torn as a man could get. “Ernie… I… even if I come back, I might not be the guy for—”
Ernie pulled away and opened his door. “Let’s go meet Ace and Sonny,” he said, not wanting to hear it. At least when Burton was talking to his friend, Ernie wouldn’t have to hear him lie, not to himself and not to Ernie. “Will you at least be able to come visit over holidays?” he asked after he’d slid out.
Burton stopped and grabbed the duffel of clothes they’d bought Ernie on their way from Albuquerque. They’d had to leave Ernie’s little apartment, with his cats and everything, without stopping to get clothes. Burton had called the super and made arrangements for the cats—mostly strays that would just show up unbidden—and Ernie didn’t want to know what a colossal pain in the ass tying up that loose end had been.
But Burton had done it for him. It wasn’t even part of his job, just like being Ernie’s savior wasn’t part of his job, and Ernie didn’t want to think of the prices Lee Burton had paid for stepping out of himself in order to successfully not kill Ernie James Caulfield’s scrawny psychic ass.
But he had. And he seemed to be willing to pay any price needed to keep Ernie as happy as possible, considering he was a target or a dead man or worse.
Ernie was going to just keep on hoping the man would recognize that what they shared in the hotel room on the way here didn’t happen every time two men met, fell into each other’s eyes, and touched each other’s bare skin.
“No,” Burton said, sighing. “No, I won’t see you for Thanksgiving. Do you have the phone I bought you?”
Ernie nodded. “Yeah.” Clean, untraceable. It had been preloaded with Ace’s number, Sonny’s number, and Burton’s number.
The end.
“I’ll text you when I can.”
Ernie brightened. “I’ll text you when you can’t.”
Lee Burton gave out a groan and clapped his hands over his eyes. “Kid—”
“Ernie.”
“Ernie—”
“Don’t worry. Once you start thinking about me, I’ll fill in the gaps in the conversation just fine.” That wasn’t really how the gift worked, except Ernie was pretty sure he’d be just as connected to Burton from however far away as he was now.
“That, uh, actually makes me a little itchy…,” Burton said, slamming his door in a fit of what was probably pique.
Ernie smiled, so relieved he couldn’t let Burton piss on his parade. “It shouldn’t. You just have to tell the truth. To yourself. Especially to yourself.”
Burton’s low moan reassured Ernie to no end. It meant the man believed him. Took him seriously. Would work hard to be as truthful as possible.
Ernie already knew what Burton felt for him. He could wait until Burton figured it out in his own head.
Angst and pain, Amy Lane Amy Lane has two kids in college, two gradeschoolers in soccer, two cats, and two Chi-who-whats at large. She lives in a crumbling crapmansion with most of the children and a bemused spouse. She also has too damned much yarn, a penchant for action adventure movies, and a need to know that somewhere in all the pain is a story of Wuv, Twu Wuv, which she continues to believe in to this day! She writes fantasy, urban fantasy, and m/m romance--and if you accidentally make eye contact, she'll bore you to tears with why those three genres go together. She'll also tell you that sacrifices, large and small, are worth the urge to write.
Thank you for the excerpt!
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