All sorts of expatriate "characters" gravitated to Bangkok, Thailand, in the seventies and eighties, and none were more colorful than the man known simply as Cowboy. Cowboy was a six-and-a-half foot black American stud, who was said to have been a pro basketball player of some note who had retreated to Bangkok in the face of possible charges for point shavin...
"Are you sure? You don't have to go through with this." But, who was I kidding. Julio's choices had been shut down that first night—the night I'd found him supposedly by chance, but with chance having nothing to do about it. He'd been had even before I approached him at the Noobai Café, the discreet little gay hookup bar in the Restele district of Lisbon, n...
Johnny Wallace's body was beat up pretty badly. It definitely looked like a hate crime to me. But that didn't take much imagination to suppose. The man had been strung up naked on a saw horse and fucked with a club nearly the size of a baseball bat before being bludgeoned with it. Divine? retribution, I thought. I didn't spend all that much time with the bo...
The bodybuilder toweled himself off and posed to admire himself in the mirror in the locker room before dressing. He was one ripped dude; hard as steel everywhere. So hard that his veins had nowhere to go other than to pop out on his body and flow across it. He liked that. All men of steel had that. He'd worked hard to get here. And he hadn't gone the easy r...
The young, drunk construction worker staggered out of the Bourbon Street pool hall at three in the morning, assured that the resilience of his strong body would permit him to be walking the high beam at the construction site by seven, with only a couple of hours of sleep. He headed east on Bourbon and used Urselines to drop down to Chartres, where strong han...
I saw him, standing there, looking forlorn, against the balcony railing outside my door as I rolled up to the Days Inn motel after my night sharing the college jock Steve with his suddenly very friendly boyfriend, the college freshman who sang a strong high tenor note when Steve was thrusting deep inside him. Gordon Fields, my original threesome partner with...
"So, when did you figure out that Jason Jenks himself was the serial killer?" I gave Hank a steady look. We were across the table from each other in an interview room down at Denver police headquarters. But neither one of us was being interviewed—we'd both just needed a more private place to say our good-byes. I was about to leave the building and find a ho...
Within twenty-four hours I learned just how difficult this assignment was going to be and I also got a flavor of an assignment I didn't particularly welcome of how Jesse had met his maker. Hank, having guided the guests, Ted, Cliff, and Jim to their rooms through a back entrance was entering the lounge of the main house that also served as the lobby recepti...
Matt's tongue was hanging out even before they entered Loudon County in Perry's Mustang, as well-groomed estate after large country mansion rolled by in gorgeous rolling countryside along the eastern foothills of the Blue Ridge Mountains. As an architecture student, he was in heaven. He was wearing a new form-fitting shirt and slacks from Joseph A. Banks and...
[Note that this GM novel is completed and will post in twelve chapters by the middle of February 2016.] Matt Henderson stopped on the border between what was now his property and that of Dashad Wilson. It had been Matt's back acre they'd plowed and sowed to lettuce and spinach today, Matt's now because of the auto accident that had taken his parents lat...