The Land of Rabbits (Long Shot Love Duet #1) (32 page)

BOOK: The Land of Rabbits (Long Shot Love Duet #1)
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Romantic.

Peaceful.

Sweet.

“Today I told an amazing man that I love him,” I say. “And now we live in a quiet burrow behind a whorehouse in the middle of the Adirondack Mountains.”

He gets up to blow out the candle, his joyful smile vanishing when the room goes dark. “I’m crazy about you, Addie. Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

His hands slide up my stomach then gently over my breasts, ending at my neck. He reclines next to me, cradling my face while tender kisses adorn my chin and mouth.

“My life has completely changed because of you. And I wouldn’t have it any other way,” I reply. “Jack, the cops, the pimp... no one’s gonna get us.”

He leans back and swipes his thumb across my lips, exhaling a relaxed breath before whispering...

“Welcome to our illusory world, my love. We’ll make it work.”

“I know. I know we will.” I take his hand, placing it over my heart.

“Together ‘til the end,” he says.

“Together ‘til the end.”

 

 

Last Words

PREY (PRAY)

 

There is a man

In the cold dark night

They call him the Rising SON

He’s been the death of many a poor soul

And you, oh God, could be one

 

You shoulda listened

To what your mother had said

If you had, you’d be safe today

But being so young and unwise, poor girl

You let love

Lead you... astray

 

 

Adlyn, Quinn, Dylan, Roxanne, and Jack will be back this fall...

 

Long Shot Love Duet Book 2

November 2016

 

Jack

Jack Jameson is a character from
Jameson Hotel
. It’s not essential to read the
Hotel
series to enjoy the
Long Shot Love Duet
, but if you’d like to learn more about Jack before the second book is released, read the
Jameson Hotel
6-part series—now available in a complete box set.

 

The prologue is included on the following pages. Please note –
Jameson Hotel
is a dark, erotic tale with a touch of humor.

 

Jameson Hotel Prologue

 

EAGER FOR A CHANGE after losing custody of my son and half of my possessions in an epic and savage divorce battle, I sold my porn company, my house, and the remainder of my belongings to escape the shithole, dehydrated city of Las Vegas.

I spent the next two years arguing with architects, and countless months trying to get the proper building permits until I was finally approved to have a hotel built on a piece of land between Carson City and Sacramento. It’s a three-story structure with a rustic log cabin exterior that melds with the landscape, and an interior that’s elegantly decked out, comprised of dark-toned walls and rich earthy hues in the carpets and wood floors. With high-end furnishings from the ground up, gold and red accents in the corridors, and fresh Mariposa lilies strategically arranged in every room, I’ve heard it referred to as luxurious and stately, similar to a manor house.

Located just off Route 50, my hotel is burrowed in the high pines of the Sierra Nevada Mountains. Replete with a remarkable view of Lake Tahoe, it’s a place for anyone in need of an escape from their polluted urban life of fast food, gadgets, car exhaust, and nine-hour days in front of a digital blue screen.

I thought my time away from the porn industry and casinos might sway my ex-wife to lighten up about my visitation rights with my kid, Jack, who I never get to see. However, I’m beginning to realize that as the son of the former king of porn, Paul Jameson, a psychopath who ended up face down with a bullet through his head,
his
past will always be a part of
my
present. My ex-wife is fully aware of the disturbing life my father led, and now that we’re no longer together, she’s using it against me, keeping my son at a distance. She also believes I’m turning into a shielded, voyeuristic, mentally ill man just like he was, and she could very well be right. What she doesn’t understand is that I not only inherited part of my father’s estate, but his enemies as well, and I need to protect myself.

Hiding behind every slot machine back in Vegas and now in these tall mountain pines is someone who’s out to kill me. I don’t trust a soul. Even at six thousand feet, with only one long road in and out of my hotel, I know that someday, someone’s going to arrive and seek vengeance for my father’s fucked up behavior. I
am
a bit guarded.

I have cameras around my entire property, in the lobby, restaurant, pool area, gym, laundry room, in all of the corridors, the executive suites, and even some of the standard-stay rooms. While I know I can’t legally observe and record my guests in their rooms, what they don’t know can’t hurt them. As far as I’m concerned, it’s a security issue and one I don’t take lightly, not after witnessing some of the shit that went down within my father’s porn company. And, I hate to admit this, but sometimes watching people screw in my hotel hardens my dick.

People traveling through these parts are mostly vacationers hitting the ski slopes during the winter or hiking and boating during the summer. They’re looking for a serene setting, to inhale the mountain air, and to put their four hundred dollar a night bed to good use—fucking like wild beasts every chance they get. With all the cameras in and around this place I can catch some cock getting sucked or a pussy getting eaten out and poked virtually any time of the night or day. And the best part is it’s goddamn real, not a bunch of worn-out porn stars getting paid to unconsciously perform. It’s fucking hot. Shit, even the baggy old asshats that wander into my hotel get it on with their K-Y Jelly for at least one night during their stay.

I’ve also caught my staff screwing around on their breaks. Housekeeping, restaurant workers, the doormen and baggage handlers, my maintenance and grounds crew, every damn one of them have banged someone at least once in this hotel, mainly one another, but sometimes the guests. The chief badass offenders are my pool boys; three guys who are fresh out of high school and at eighteen their dicks are hard 24/7.

I may need to change the name of my place from Jameson Hotel to Brothel in the Pines and, in all honesty, I’m just as guilty as the rest of the whorish men and women who hang around here. For Pete’s sake, I’m not going to live my life without pussy.

And just to be clear, I also don’t take shit from anyone. People who fuck with me never check out. Lake Tahoe is the third deepest lake in the United States with an average depth of a thousand feet. If some swine finds himself sinking to the bottom with a concrete block tied around his chest it’s because he was a threat to someone I care about, in which case he’s never going to be found. Trust me on that one.

 

I’m Mark Jameson.

Oh, and welcome to my hotel.

 

 

About Aven

Aven Jayce received her MFA from the University of Colorado at Boulder. She was a college professor for seven years before resigning to write full-time. She now enjoys life as an eccentric loner—similar to some of the characters in her books.

 

Her favorite reads are psychological suspense novels and stories with damaged, nonlinear characters. Guilty pleasures include practical cars, complicated problems, American historical novels, dark chocolate, and short shorts.

 

Aven Jayce Novels:

The NOVA Trilogy

Fallen Snow (Book One)

Desert Star (Book Two)

Sunset Rush (Book Three)

The Dark Scarlett - A continuation of NOVA

Jameson Hotel Series (Parts 1–6)

Divine

The Land of Rabbits (Long Shot Love Duet #1)

 

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