An act of violence destroys his family and ends the life he knows. To escape his haunted past, he joins the military, where, as a sniper, he is trained to kill with precision and detachment. When a covert organization offers him a new purpose, he becomes Haven, an operative devoted to protecting the innocent when he can and avenging them when he cannot.
After ten years of battling the evil in the world, the life no longer holds the attraction or meaning it once had, and he’s ready to walk away. Then he meets Samuel, a young man forced from the age of twelve to work as a sex slave. If ever a man had a need for Haven, it is this one.
Yet nothing about this growing relationship is one-sided. Sammy gives Haven a stability he’s never known, and Haven becomes the rock upon which Sammy knows he can depend.
When Sammy reveals something about the enemy Haven has been hunting for months, Sammy fears it will destroy what they’ve built and he’ll lose his home in Haven’s heart.
Warning: This book contains violent and dark scenes
Haven is kind enough to stop by to talk a bit about who his hero is. It’s a bit surprising but when he explains why, you’ll understand his pure heart. But don’t tell anyone I said that! He might just track me down for a little “talk”. Read and enjoy!
Okay, so I’m going to tell you this and you will NEVER repeat it, am I clear? Because the man already talks enough shit, and if finds out this exists, I will never hear the end of it.
My hero is Kelly, my houseman. I know, it’s not a typical person you’d choose as a hero, but he’s definitely mine.
See, Kelly does more than keep my house and cook my meals (even if his cooking can really suck at times!) He also takes care of arrangements when I need to do a job. He listens when I have problems. And he gives absolutely amazing massages when my muscles are screaming from the exertion I put them under.
Recently I also found out he’d had a job similar to mine years ago. When he could no longer do it, he became my houseman. I’m not sure I’d have the strength to go from being the one who charges into danger to changing dirty bedsheets. But he does it, and he smiles when he works, like he truly enjoys it.
My sister and I used to wonder who our father was. I suppose I could find out if I really had to. The organization has access to a lot of databases, so they could probably do it. But, to be honest, I gave up caring a long time ago. My sister and I used to lie in bed wondering what our father was like. Tall? Thin? Short? Fat? Did he have an important job? Would we recognize him if we saw him? But now? It really doesn’t matter. If I could talk to Chrissy again, though, and we wondered what our father was like, I’d want him to be an older man with a pencil thin mustache who takes care of me, like a father should.
Okay, you got it out of me. He ever hears about this, and I will hunt you down, Molly Lolly. I have ways to make you suffer.
Have a great day. 🙂
When I was fifteen, I killed my first man. Every time Arnie, the guy my mother was shacking up with at the time, drank, he got it into his head she was cheating on him. He’d start slapping her, and that turned into full-fledged beating within a few months. When he was done, he’d start on my sister.
There were nights she’d crawl into bed with me, sobbing. For the longest of times, she wouldn’t tell me what happened, but when I found blood on her pajamas, I knew. I’d tried to stand up to him, but he beat me badly enough that I couldn’t go to school for two weeks until the bruises faded. But I got off lucky. The things he did to Chrissy gave me nightmares. I’d hear her cry out and knew there was nothing I could do but hide in my bed, my pillow covering my head. He was bigger, meaner, and stronger than me, and he reminded me of that fact constantly.
The old lady never said boo about it. She always forgave him and tried to justify what he did by telling me how much stress he was under. How he was a good man and didn’t mean it. It was just the drinking, she swore. It was more like he was a bastard and she was his meal ticket.
I came home one night and found him whaling on her, my sister’s body crumpled in a heap, her head smashed in. The son of a bitch had a gun in his hand, slick with blood, and he threatened to kill them both, screaming he wouldn’t let her leave. She slapped him. It wasn’t hard, but it shocked him enough that he dropped the gun. I picked it up. He sneered at me and called me a weak-willed fag.
I looked at the gun I held in my hand. The instrument of my revenge. The means to saving my sister.
“Give me the gun, you fuck. It’s not a dick, you wouldn’t know what to do with it.”
The bullet I put in his forehead showed him how wrong he was. He lay on the floor, blood bubbling from the wound, and his eyes locked on mine as he took his last breath. I wanted that fucker to know it was the weak-willed fag who had done this to him.
Parker Williams believes that true love exists, but it always comes with a price. No happily ever after can ever be had without work, sweat, and tears that come with melding lives together.
Living in Milwaukee, Wisconsin, Parker held his job for nearly 28 years before he decided to retire and try new things. He enjoys his new life as a stay-at-home author and also working on Pride-Promotions, an LGBT author promotion service.
Where To Buy:
Amazon eBook: http://www.amazon.com/Havens-Creed-Parker-Williams-ebook/dp/B0190XCAX2/ref=sr_1_1
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