Jacquelyn R. Ward from The Romance Studio reviewed Tort & Retort and gave it 4.5 hearts! She says:

What a cute and quirky story. Being a lover of erotic romance books and a reviewer myself, I couldn’t help but feel a connection to this story. Gayle is a strong woman who’s afraid to let others see that she really does have a soft and sensual side to her. Her fears are justified by the judgmental field she works in. Tyler is very similar to Gayle in that he is a just and fair man, but his softer side is also hidden because of the secret he is carrying around. The tip-toeing these two go through to try to protect themselves and yet garner the courage to tell the other, is hilarious. The chemistry between them is very strong. Whether it is working side by side on a case, or tearing up the sheets, the connection is undeniable. If you are looking for a good, interesting quick read full of heat and desire, this is the book for you.

You can read more about Tort & Retort here and you can read the great review on The Romance Studio’s site here.

(unedited excerpt)

Leo watched the roiling grey clouds move overhead and clenched his hands on the steering wheel of the small rental car, savoring the ache of his bruised and torn knuckles. His world, or what was left of it, was poised to tumble down around his head but he couldn’t find it in him to regret beating the crap out of Barker. The bigoted asshole deserved it, or worse, for what he’d said about Terry.

Terry.

Nausea rose in his throat and he fought it back. He would not puke in the parking lot at Arlington, dammit. He’d come here to pay his respects and he would do his goddam duty and do it right. It was the least he could do for his fellow soldier, his fire-team mate, his best friend — the man who’d given his life for those of the rest of the squad. After two tours in Iraq and less than three months before they were done with this tour and all Hell cut loose in a rain of blood, shrapnel and shards of bone during a routine op.

One by one, he forced his fingers to uncurl and release from the steering wheel. He wiped his sweaty palms on the stiff denim of his new jeans and took a few deep breaths to steady himself before he cracked the door open. The heat of the mid-summer Virginia day rushing into the car, quickly overwhelming the chill of the air conditioned interior. The humidity made it a lot harder to breathe than the dry heat of the middle east, even though it was cooler here. He was glad he’d decided not to wear his Class A’s or a suit. Just the long-sleeve dress shirt would be hot enough.

The smells were different, too. Gone were the rancid smells of the desert, the base, the machinery and even his fellow infantrymen. Instead his lungs filled with the scent of new-mown grass and the nearby river.

Leo climbed out of the car and quietly shut the door behind him. It seemed disrespectful to slam the car door in this place. The car locked and double-checked, he threw his shoulders back and began the long walk to Terry.

The now ingrained walking cadence mindlessly carried him forward and allowed for far too much time to think. To remember. He passed other people but carefully avoided looking at them. What could he say? What would they say? He couldn’t deal with other people right now – he wasn’t sure he could deal with himself right now.

The weight of those he walked among seemed huge. The true meaning of freedom and its cost exposed through the acres and acres of graves that stretched over the grounds of Arlington. Each one paid a heavy price – some by choice, some not. What would they think of what he’d done? Of what he was? Of the lies he’d told to be allowed to continue his service to the country he loved?

All too quickly, he reached the round brass marker that indicated Section 60. He stepped carefully between the ranks of the graves, treading as lightly as he could among the fallen. In the next to last row, he spotted the name he sought.

“Terrence Ray Olson.” His whisper was the last straw and he fell to his knees in the soft grass next to the grave. The white marble marker made it so final. His gut churned again at the memory of the last time he saw Terry, bloody and torn apart by the IED he’d thrown himself on top. He’d been the first to Terry and when he’d turned him over to start first aid, his head had almost fallen off.

Bitter bile filled his mouth as he fought back the urge to puke.

“I’m sorry, Terry.” His voice strengthened a bit. “You saved us all and I couldn’t do a damned thing for you.”

He rubbed his hands on his legs again. He kept feeling the blood coating them, no matter how long it had been or how often he’d scrubbed them.

The tombstone was gleamingly new, stark white with precise black letters spelling out Terry’s information, including the medals he’d been posthumously awarded. Such a few words to encapsulate a life. Part of a life, anyway. The part the military recognized. A few small momentos sat atop the marble stone.

“I made a big mistake, man, and I think I’m in deep shit now.”

He settled down cross-legged in the grass by Terry and bowed his head to speak quietly to where he imagined Terry might hear him. “Barker is such a fucker. He got assigned to our fireteam, on entry, after you were… killed. Shithead couldn’t see a haji if he was wearing neon robes and dancing in the middle of the road waving an AK-47.”

He plucked a few blades of grass near his knee and tore them slowly to bits. The scabs on his knuckles pulled with the motion. “He can’t even do his damned job. Instead he spends all his time hating on everyone else. I kept trying to just do what I’ve always done and stick to doing my job and ignoring Barker whenever I can. The man would make a much better FOBBIT. At least there he wouldn’t be as much of a liability.”

Leo tossed the shredded grass to the side and plucked some more. “He keeps going on about fags and queers. On and on and on. When we got home, I went out for a drink with the squad before we all went on R&R and someone told him you were gay. When he started talking about how you deserved to die for being a fag, I lost it.”

He caught himself picking at the scabs on his knuckles and forced himself to stop. He didn’t need some sort of infection on top of everything else.

“I jumped him, Terry. Went right over two other guys and started swinging. I don’t remember a lot about the fight itself, just that Barker fights like a fucking girl. Star and Helling pulled me off him and I remember asking him how it felt to have the crap beat out of him by a fucking fag.” Leo sighed and shook his head. How stupid could he be. His entire career in exchange for a brief moment of vengeance?

“There’s no way he won’t report it, Terry. No way in Hell.”

A huge hand seemed to grab his chest and crush it. What was he going to do? It wasn’t as if some of the squad didn’t know he and Terry were gay. It had just never been an issue. They put on a good show of being straight, everyone else made a show of believing it and they all did their damned jobs.

Memories flooded through him of the two tours they’d shared and their friendship. Funny moments, scary moments, even nights on a pass when they were unable to sleep and instead shared their tales of home, growing up gay and how they coped with the Army regulations. Each moment seemed to replay itself.

“Excuse me. Sir? Excuse me.” His head jerked up at the sound of the quiet voice. A thin, sad-looking woman stood on the other side of Terry’s grave, looking at him with swollen, red eyes and a tentative smile. “The cemetery closes at seven and it’s 6:30. I didn’t want you to be interrupted by the guards instead.”

“Thank you.” His voice choked up and he cleared his throat to try again. “Thank you. I’ll wrap it up for today.”

The thin woman nodded and caressed Terry’s cold, polished headstone with one hand. “I’m sorry for your loss.” She turned and slowly walked away, shoulders slumped with the weight of her own grief.

Leo knelt and ran his fingers gently over Terry’s name. “I miss you, bud. Thank you for what you did. You saved my life, you saved all our lives.” Tears welled up in his eyes, despite his best efforts to hold them back. “I brought you something.”

Coming to his feet, he examined the items on top of the headstone. A small pile of pebbles gathered on one side, flanked by two glass pebbles but next to those was a set of rubber edged dogtags, facedown on the marble and still on their chain. Curious, he flipped them over and saw they belonged to a Skinner, William R., USMC. The social security number had been carefully cut out of the tags but they were worn and dinged up. They’d seen use.

He carefully placed them back as he’d found them and reached into his pocket for the challenge coin he’d brought for Terry. The heavy brass disk had the Army Emblem on one side and the crossed rifles of the Infantry on the other. He’d carried it since he’d decided to enlist as a teen but after Terry died, he’d bought another for himself so he could give his friend this one.

Caressing the enameled coin one more time, he set it on top of the headstone to join the other tokens. “I forsake not my country, my mission, my comrades, my sacred duty.” His voice choked out the final words. Unable to continue, he snapped a salute and turned to make his way back to his car.

Hope you enjoy it.

————————————-

Aha! A parking spot right on the street in Freemont. That was rarer than three dry Spring days in row. David pulled his little Mazda into the open space with a sigh of relief. Chris said she’d promised to be there to pick up the naughty chocolates at six and it was already a little after that. He’d rushed out of the office as fast as he could after getting her frantic phone call but being waylaid by a co-worker along the way had cut things very close to the designated pick up time.

He hopped out of the car, taking advantage of a brief gap in the street traffic and raced over to the ominously quiet-looking shop. A glance at the hours listed on the glass door showed that they closed at four p.m. on Sundays. The lights were still on but no one seemed to be inside.

“Dammit!” How was he supposed to pick up something at six when the shop closed at four?

Ripping his cell phone out of its holster, he stabbed the keys to call Chris. Just as he heard the phone begin to ring through, he saw movement in the back of the shop. A powerfully built man came out of a back room and came around the display case, wiping his hands on a towel. David couldn’t help staring as the man walked toward the door.

A long-sleeved black t-shirt clung to the heavy muscles that bunched and flexed beneath it. Worn black jeans snugly fitted the lean hips and thick thighs, with black harness boots finishing out the other man’s outfit. Everything that turned David on, wrapped up in one bad boy package. Not at all what he’d expected to find working in a chocolate shop.

David glanced back up the sexy man’s body again and looked through the glass door into the most amazing pair of steel grey eyes edged with the lines of a man who knew how to smile and did so often. Goosebumps erupted on his arms and he swallowed convulsively. Holy crap, this was every wet dream he’d ever had come to life. The white paper hairnet wasn’t quite in keeping with the rest of him, though. Not that it deterred his now throbbing cock.

Hell, if his luck ran true to form, the sexy-as-hell man would be decidedly straight and he didn’t want to get on Chris’ bad side by risking her chocolate fix. She might be his best friend but she had a temper he’d rather not run afoul of.

When a tanned hand reached out to flip the door’s deadbolt, just the edge of a colorful tattoo peeked out from under the black shirt cuff. If possible, David’s cock got even harder. Just what ink lay under that dark cotton? He forced himself to stop staring at the man and pasted a shaky smile on his face as the door swung open.

“Hi, I’m David Sterling, here to pick up an order for Chris Mortenson. I hope I’m not too late or she’s gonna kill me and she’ll make sure it hurts.”

The amazing smell of chocolate seemed to explode over him in a rush through the shop’s doorway. He savored the rich smell. One deep breath, then another and his eyes drifted closed in ecstasy.

A laugh, as dark and rich as the smell of the shop, sent a shiver up his spine and Dave’s eyes snapped back open. His cheeks grew hot with the blush he’d never learned to stifle.

The other man tugged off the hairnet to reveal curly black hair in a riot of disarray, as if fingers had been run through it over and over.

“Come on in. I’d hate to be the cause of your death.” The husky voice was laced with humor. “I’m Brandon Williams, the owner. Sorry you had a scare but the shop was closed and I was working in the back. I don’t like to leave the door unlocked if no one is out here.”

David stepped into the chocolate shop, still savoring the smells, and tried to will his hard-on away, without much success. The shop was bigger than he expected, with a bit of bordello in the scarlet and black décor but the huge variety of chocolates in the display cabinets was impressive.

Stepping past him, Brandon tossed the hairnet and towel on a table behind the counter and gestured toward three large boxes in the same scarlet and black as the shop décor.

“Here’s the order for Chris. Twenty-five dark chocolate sex toy chests—with toys.” He pulled off the piece of paper taped to the lid of the top box off and set it on the counter with a pen. “Can you sign that you’ve picked them up, please?”

David scrawled his name at the bottom of the form, distracted by the smear of chocolate he’d seen on the other man’s hand. Damned if he didn’t want to lick it off…slowly. Obviously it had been far too long since he’d gotten laid, or even gotten close to being laid. Helping Chris with her wedding had taken a lot of his time the last several months and it was longer than that since he’d found a man he wanted to get close to. Most gay men he met in the normal course of his day were more prissy and metrosexual than he was attracted to. This man was anything but.

He looked up and saw Brandon staring at him with what looked like interest but as soon as the other man saw he was being watched, he hurried to take the signed form and toss it into a tray with some similar forms.

Hmm. Very interesting reaction. Maybe the hunky candy man wasn’t straight after all.

“I’ll put these in the car for you.” The chocolatier picked up the three boxes with no effort at all and nodded for David to precede him to the door. A few steps and David held the shop door open for Brandon, then clicked the remote to unlock his car. Thankful for his spacious trunk, he popped it open and made sure the boxes were settled in, flat on the trunk floor so they wouldn’t tip or fall over while he drove to the party.

Once the trunk was shut again, Brandon held out his large tanned hand to shake David’s. “Hope you and your fiancée have a great party and enjoy the chocolates.”

Stunned, David stood motionless for a moment. Talk about the wrong idea completely. Where did candy man get the idea he was the groom? Maybe there was hope after all.

He reached out for a solid handshake and as Brandon released his hand and turned to go back into the shop, he called out. “You know, I’m not Chris’ fiancé. I’m the Man of Honor. I love Chris but she’s my best friend. I’m just not into dating women.”

Laughing at the stunned look on Brandon’s face, he waved as he drove away.

I don’t have a release date yet – they have to receive my contract and I need to work with my editor but I’ll let you know as soon as I find out.

You can read more about Escape to Me here.

GIVING THANKS is all that you would imagine the Thanksgiving holidays should be about. A book full of; secrets, family expectation, love and surprises along with a whole lot of forgiveness.

The book has not only that hold your breath moment when you think, ‘please let it work out’ but also some hilarious moment where you just have to say thank God for the in-laws. I really enjoy Ms. Anderson’s GIVING THANKS.

You can read the entire review on the Erotic Horizon blog! Thanks for the great review!!!