Not Another Statistic by JM Dabney – Scattered Thoughts and Rogue Words

Not Another Statistic

Yuri Sorenson Mysteries

J.M. Dabney

Genre – MM/Gay Fiction/Romance, Mystery/Suspense

Release Date: 09.24.19

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Cover Image – FuriousFotog (Golden Czermak)

Cover Model – Kevin R. Davis

Cover Art – J.M. Dabney

Blurb

Former Federal Agent Yuri Sorenson had left the bureau behind to become a private investigator. His ex-partner came to him asking for a favor, not knowing who else to trust. Yuri had always had a way of keeping his emotional distance from the people he protected, yet that changed the day Clarkson hesitantly limped into his life.

What happens when love is confused with pain? That’s the exact question Josh Clarkson had asked himself for years. He’d grown up in an overburdened foster care system, and from what he knew of love, he couldn’t expect anything but to be something tolerated. Was he meant to be more than a plaything or a piece of scenery? H could hope.

Two men who know nothing but being broken find that patience and acceptance are harder than losing hope. Is the leap of faith worth the reward of letting someone else in? Maybe they’ll find the strength to find out before the danger of Josh’s past tries to tear them apart.

Universal Link – https://books2read.com/u/bw2vV0

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Excerpt

I awakened from the best dreams I’d ever had. One of the few times I hadn’t come to with a scream and then I froze as I found myself draped over Yuri. My thighs on either side of his hips and I tried to slip to the side without being noticed only to squeak as a very strong, large hand squeezed my ass to keep me in place. This was so not good. I bit my lip and tried again only to be stopped by a deep growl that rumbled the chest under me.

All I remembered last night was falling asleep as far on the other side of the bed as I could get. I’d never really shared a bed with someone before. Usually when the man I was with went to sleep, I left or found a couch or a portion of the floor to curl up on. At Vernon’s I had my own tiny room which he locked me in every night.

This was the first time I’d ever cuddled with a man and I wasn’t sure it was a welcomed act. I needed to get away before he woke up. His opinion was important and I didn’t want him to think that I’d done this on purpose. I planted my hands beside his ribs, and then lifted onto my toes.

I was able to get an inch between our bodies before my hips were slammed back down onto a very impressive bulge.

“Shit.” I whispered and started the attempt again.

“Baby boy, what do you think you’re doing?”

His gruff question had me lifting my gaze to his and realized he was very much awake. “How long have you been awake?”

“Maybe an hour or so.”

“Sorry, I didn’t realize—” My apology ended when I noticed the corner of his mouth pulled into a smirk. It made the laugh lines at the corners of his eyes deeper.

“Sleeping you didn’t seem to mind rubbing on me.”

I surged to a seated position and stared down at him. “I was sleeping. I could’ve done anything.” His smile got wider. “What else did I do?”

“Nothing, but we have shit to do today so get on up.”

He smacked my ass and rolled out from under me, dumping me onto the bed. I hurriedly crawled off and followed him. I was too shocked by the grin and the suddenly playful attitude to protest the swat.

“What did I do,” I demanded.

“You get pretty affectionate, now, are you going to watch me piss and demand to know every grope you didn’t get to enjoy?”

J.M. Dabney is a multi-genre author who writes Body Positive/Diverse Romance and Fiction. They live with a constant diverse cast of characters in their head. No matter their size, shape, race, etc. J.M. lives for one purpose alone, and that’s to make sure they do them justice and give them the happily ever after they deserve. J.M. is dysfunction at its finest and they makes sure their characters are a beautiful kaleidoscope of crazy. There is nothing more they want from telling their stories than to show that no matter the package the characters come in or the damage their pasts have done, that love is love. That normal is never normal and sometimes the so-called broken can still be amazing.

The author is Gender Nonconforming are uses the preferred pronouns They/Them.

Facebook – https://www.facebook.com/J.M.DabneyAuthor/

Twitter – https://twitter.com/jmdabney_author

Instagram – https://www.instagram.com/authorjmdabney/?hl=en

Reader Group – https://www.facebook.com/groups/585182991553194

Amazon Author Page – https://www.amazon.com/J.M.-Dabney/e/B006QZIFLE

Bookbub – https://www.bookbub.com/authors/j-m-dabney

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Not Another Statistic

Yuri Sorenson Mysteries

J.M. Dabney

MM/Gay Fiction/Romance, Mystery/Suspense

Release Date: 09.24.19

NotAnotherStatistic-Final-QRI

Cover Image – FuriousFotog (Golden Czermak)

Cover Model – Kevin R. Davis

Cover Art – J.M. Dabney

Blurb

Universal Link – https://books2read.com/u/bw2vV0

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Excerpt

The or, what the hell had I been thinking? I cursed myself as I unbuttoned my baby blue dress shirt that conformed to my slender upper body. As I stripped it off I studied myself in the bathroom mirror and draped the fine linen over the edge of the sink counter. I traced the fading scars that covered my chest and stomach. A few were still sensitive as I stroked the raised edges of tissue.

“They’re healing nicely.”

I jerked my eyes to the right in the mirror to find him watching me. An odd expression in his green eyes. I wondered what he thought of me. His attitude toward me had shifted but I still feared he saw me as he had the night I was led into his office. In his opinion was I still the pain addict whore that everyone made me out to be? At the club earlier I’d almost felt—normal. Like a well-adjusted man curled up against my date.

I mentally shook off my thoughts and my brain started to focus on other things. His unbuttoned shirt exposed the thick hair on his chest and stomach, his tie hanging loose. To keep from getting caught I returned to my perusal. My stomach was no longer concave and my ribs didn’t show through my pale skin. My cheeks face was filling out and I didn’t look like a skeleton. I knew I had more weight to gain in order to get up to fighting weight as he called it.

“Yeah.”

“What’s wrong, baby boy?” His grumbly voice was low and soft, yet seemed to fill the room effortlessly.

“Just remembering.”

“Remembering what?” He asked as he entered the bathroom and stood behind me. There were several inches between us but I could still feel his body heat—his overwhelming presence—and my weakness called to me to lean back into his strength.

Something inside me was sick and rotten, I relied on him to keep me safe. He did little things that weren’t necessary. Like the espresso or candy, letting me pick a show on TV. They were stupid things but men didn’t do nice things for me just out of the kindness of their hearts. It always came with a price.

“Talk it out.”

Resistance was futile when his hands rested on my hips and he flexed his arms, pulling me back to his larger frame. The slightly coarse chest hair tickled my skin and my gaze flew to his. Nothing in his expression gave away his thoughts. He was as stoic as I remembered. That emotionless mask made me warier. While I didn’t think he’d physically hurt me, emotionally and mentally he could destroy me.