BLURB: Bad boys don’t tame easy.
Victor is a bad man. Is there anything he won’t do for power and money?
Destroy a local business so he can buy it cheap? Kick out its owners and turn it into a cash cow? He relishes the chance.
Idris is a good man in possession of a renowned tea-house. He’s put his heart and soul into the place. It’s everything he has and wants…
Except for Victor.
He wants Victor too.
Can the love of a compassionate man restore a predator’s withered soul? Or is Idris doomed to lose his life’s work, and his heart with it?
READ ON for an Excerpt and series details…
Each book in the series is a standalone, and can be read in any order.
Feel free to start here and work back!
Get Seeing Red today and visit the town where love conquers all.
The suit had given Victor a certain untouchable air, like something on which the stray hand would cut itself. But now he wore a soft, turquoise silk button down and black skinny jeans, grayed and soft with age and wear. Idris hadn’t noticed a bin smell, but he did notice the scent of soap and shampoo—an almost continental fragrance of blended coffee and whiskey. Victor was a vision, dressed as though he was about to go clubbing, and Idris’s infatuation—somewhat dashed by the house—flared up again like a tongue of flame.
“Wow,” he said. “You are so beautiful.”
“Don’t!” Victor flinched, his mouth turning down. He poured himself a drink with curt movements as though he’d been insulted. “I know I don’t look like much, but don’t make fun.”
“No, I meant it!” Idris exclaimed. “How can you not see? You’re—”
“I look like them,” Victor dropped to his knees beside the dogs, which put him dangerously close to Idris’s side. He brought a blast of warm, humid air with him, his hair still damp from the shower. Even watered, it was still bright, a bronze rather than the red-gold it was when dry. Idris reached up for it without thinking, touched the ends that curved over his ear, and then swept his fingertips over the soft arch of his ear down to the lobe as if he was petting another dog.
“Hm?” he asked.
“Scrawny, half-starved, feral. Like I’ll bite you as soon as look at you.”
Idris smiled, because although there was an element of truth in that, it didn’t sound like such a bad thing. “Would you?” he teased, “Bite me? That sounds like a promise.”
Victor took in a breath as if prepared to snap. Then he seemed to realize that he was being flirted with and laughed, awkwardly. “Not on a first date.”
Alex Beecroft was born in Northern Ireland during the Troubles and grew up in the wild countryside of the English Peak District. She studied English and Philosophy before accepting employment with the Crown Court where she worked for a number of years. Now a stay-at-home mum and full time author, Alex lives with her husband and two children in a little village near Cambridge and tries to avoid being mistaken for a tourist.
Alex is only intermittently present in the real world. She has lead a Saxon shield wall into battle, toiled as a Georgian kitchen maid, and recently taken up an 800 year old form of English folk dance, but she still hasn’t learned to operate a mobile phone.