CURL UP AND DYE MYSTERIES SERIES, BOOK 4
AIMEE NICOLE WALKER
PHOTOGRAPHER: Wander Aguiar
COVER ARTIST: Jay Aheer/Simply Defined Art
MODELS: Jacob and Matthew
Newly engaged Josh Roman and Gabe Wyatt know the road to happily ever after won’t be easy, but the two men are certain their biggest challenges are in the rearview mirror. However, life in Blissville is never what it seems and all signs point to dangerous curves ahead.
Josh and Gabe refuse to take a detour because everything they’ve dreamed of is within reach, not even when professional and personal revelations threaten to wreck their plans. It should be the happiest time in their lives, yet neither man can shake the feeling that something sinister waits around the next corner.
Buckle your seatbelts and hang on for the ride because Josh and Gabe are committed to saying “I do” or die trying.
I Do, or Dye Trying is the fourth book in the Curl Up and Dye Mysteries series. These books need to be read in order as the storyline unravels throughout the series. They contain sexually explicit material and are intended for adults 18 and older.
Video Trailer: https://vimeo.com/215362953
- Do you pay attention to literary criticism? If so, how do you handle it?
I pay attention to constructive criticism that is offered to help me improve my skills as a writer and a storyteller. I think the minute we stop trying to grow is the moment we begin to die. I ignore comments that are cruel or are intended to hurt.
- This series name is awesome! How do you come up with your book titles?
Thank you, I’m so happy you like it. I thought of phrases with the words die, dying, or died in them and then swapped them out for Dyeing, Dye, and Dyed. I also made sure the titles fit the tone of the book and tried to work the title into the storyline, which is one of my favorite things to do.
- What new authors have grasped your interest?
New to me is Steven Dos Santos, and I’m completely enthralled with his series, The Torch Keeper. It’s like The Hunger Games in a way, but more intense, and the main characters are gay. Also, new-ish to me is Kris Michaels, and I love her Everlight series that she wrote with Patricia A. Knight.
- What is the hardest part about writing for you?
The hardest part about writing for me is knowing when to stop. It’s hard for me to push my chair back from the desk and walk away once the story has me in its grasp. I need to find a better balance between work and play.
- Number 5 is always a fun one (and interestingly usually contains some sort of jail reference). What one habit or tic do you wish you could turn into a money making endeavor?
I just kill people who hurt my friends and family off in my books, so there’s nothing too sinister lurking in my mind. I don’t wish any physical harm to any of them either. In reality, I wish the three spirits, Kindness, Humility, and Humanity, could pay them a visit and they’d wake up better people. It’s sort of like A Christmas Carol, but with a modern-day twist. Well, hello plot bunny. (This made us, TCO, laugh!)
“Did you have a good run?” Gabe asked without turning away from his task, which was good because he was cooking in his underwear. Sounds hot, right? In fantasies, it sure as hell was, but in reality, it made me shiver, but not in a good way. Bacon grease is very hot and not what you want to be splattered on your bare chest or cock and balls. His designer briefs were thin and offered no real protection from sizzling, popping grease, but they offered me one hell of a view. Oh yeah, my eyes locked on those firm, round ass cheeks and I imagined myself grabbing onto them while he pounded away inside me or even spread apart to receive my cock. “Josh, you’re making my dick hard by staring at my ass.”
I snapped out of my daydream long enough to respond. “Your dick is always hard.” My gaze wandered up the broad expanse of his back to take in the wide shoulders where I often rested my calves while he…
“I can’t help myself and don’t pretend like you didn’t wear that to get this exact reaction from me,” I said, marching over to the coffee pot to pour myself a cup. “Hey, can I have one of those Ninja coffee bar things Sofia raves about in our new house?”
“Who’s Sofia?” Gabe asked.
Just because he was gay didn’t excuse him from not knowing the world’s most beautiful woman. “Gabe, I just don’t know what to do with you sometimes.” I shook my head sadly for emphasis, which he didn’t see because he was still paying close attention to the bacon. And who could blame him with his magic wand and beans so close to the fiery pits of hell? “Sofia Vergara, Gabe. She’s an actress and is married to Joe Man…”
“Oh, her.” I didn’t like his tone, not one bit. It was the same one I’d heard rolling off the lips of every jealous woman in my salon as they cattily tore her down when she and Joe started dating. I thought they were a beautiful couple and I was happy for them. Only people who wanted Joe for themselves sounded bitter.
“Awwww, did she steal your man from you?” I asked mockingly. “Is he your celebrity crush?” Six months ago, the thought of Gabe crushing on a big, muscular guy would’ve sent me into a panic. Not anymore because I was certain of two things: there was nothing wrong with the way I was, and Gabe was crazy in love with me.
“Was,” Gabe confessed sheepishly.
“Awww, you dumped him because of me,” I cooed as I moved closer to him, but not so close that the grease was going to get me. He was cooking his meat on too high of a temperature and endangering my favorite meat in the process.
“It was because he got married. I don’t lust after married people. It just feels wrong.”
I shook my head sadly; it looked like he had further to go than I realized. I had three months to whip him into perfect husband material, which I didn’t think would be too difficult since he was already within striking distance of perfection. “Gabe, as much as I appreciate your honesty, there are times when it doesn’t hurt you to stretch the truth just a tiny bit.”
He whipped his head around to gauge if he’d screwed up. “He got married a year before I met you, Josh. Had I met you first, that would’ve been the reason I gave.” He looked pretty damn smug about his smooth recovery.
“Nicely played,” I told him as I gestured to the frying pan with my hand so that he’d pay attention.
Gabe chuckled and turned his focus back to cooking. “Are you worried I’ll burn down your house or scratch the nonstick surface of your pan?” He held up the tongs that had a silicone coating on the bottom and around the edges. “Your skillet is safe.”
“I was more concerned about your cock and balls getting splattered with hot grease,” I told him. “Take a damn step back or something.”
“You don’t find this sexy?” Gabe asked, sounding a bit pouty.
“Of course, I find it sexy, but that doesn’t mean I want you to risk your safety.”
“I guess it’s a good thing I didn’t cook in the nude,” Gabe grumbled.
“Now that’s just gross,” I told him. “Nobody wants pubes in their food, Gabriel. I adore you naked, but not around my food.”
“You didn’t seem to worry about pubes when you deep-throated my dick covered with whipped cream on vacation,” Gabe said to me.
“That was different,” I said defensively.
“How was that different? Your lips were against my pubes,” he pointed out.
“It was dessert,” I said like that explained it. “No one is going to eat lobster bisque soup off your crotch.”
“Ouch,” Gabe said
“Yeah, multiply that times a thousand to imagine how bad hot grease would feel,” I told him. The grease popped just then as if fate wanted to emphasize just how right I was about the dangers of frying bacon while scantily clad—no matter how good, or sexy, the intention.
Gabe jumped back and yelled, “Son of a bitch!” Then he looked at me accusingly as if I made it happen. He moved the skillet off the burner and turned to face me fully.
“Son of a bitch! Son of a bitch!” Savage repeated while flapping his wings.
“Just great,” I said. “Savage is going to be saying that nonstop.”
“As if he doesn’t already say worse,” Gabe replied. “I seem to remember him propositioning me for a blow job the first night I was here. You can’t blame me for that one.”
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I am a wife and mother to three kids, three dogs, and a cat. When I’m not dreaming up stories, I like to lose myself in a good book, cook or bake. I’m a girly tomboy
who paints her fingernails while watching sports and yelling at the referees.
I will always choose the book over the movie. I believe in happily-ever-after. Love inspires everything that I do. Music keeps me sane.