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Mingo McCloud, his lover, Francois, andtheir son, Ferric, are in Hartford, Connecticut for their bestfriends’ wedding. Mingo and Ferric are carjacked on the way topicking up the brides’ wedding cake. Francois, furious that hewasn’t there to protect his family, drops the super-secret casehe’s been working on to take Mingo and Ferric for a quick,sun-drenched trip to his birthplace of St. Martin in theCaribbean.
Unbelievably, Mingo and Ferricencounter the same two men who carjacked them in Hartford…and itsoon emerges that they are connected to Francois’ latest securitycase. Francois is now hell-bent on revenge, whilst Mingo must dealwith long-dormant feelings for his ex-lover, Kaolin, who is onvacation in St. Martin. He wants Mingo back and will do anything towin his heart…even to marry him. But there’s another guy hovering,too, hunky FBI agent Sage Brantley, who wants another hot threesomewith Mingo and Francois. Who will die? Who will get bedded? AreMingo and Francois fated to be mated…and were the carjackers’ gunsmade in Taiwan?
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This book is a work of fiction. Names,characters, places, and incidents either are products of theauthor’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance toactual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirelycoincidental.
Mated
Copyright © 2010 A.J.Llewellyn
ISBN: 978-1-55487-666-2
Cover art by Angela Waters
All rights reserved. Except for use inany review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in wholeor in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or othermeans, now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without thewritten permission of the publisher.
Published by eXtasy Books
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Smashwords Edition
Mated
Mingo McCloud 4
By
A.J. Llewellyn
Dedication
To Teresa and Judie who bothsuggested the title for this book, on the same day within an hourof one another. Thank you for loving Mingo and Francoisxoxo
Chapter One
When I was a kid, my momtook me to Yee Hing, the fanciest Chinese restaurant on our side ofthe island of Oahu.Come to think of it, it was the onlyChinese restaurant on the windward side. Somepeople had protested the historic neighborhood ofHawaii Kai opening a stripmall built right over the remains of ancient, sacred fishponds, butmuch of the ponds were left intact and for most of the localresidents, the thought of fried rice within reach was moretantalizing than a pile of overgrown, long abandonedmangroves.
The year was 1983 and I wasseven years old. For me, it was a treat to have Chinese food onhand. Yee Hing was geared toward Family Sundays and for my family,and many others, these outings meant a straw hat and gloves for mygrandma, a new factory-second Hilo Hattie muumuu for my mom and all-I-could-eatChinese food for me. Best of all, I got to open and eat everybody’sfortune cookie.
I have never forgotten myfirst-ever fortune. The little white slip of paper read,You will be happy. Whatthe hell kind of fortune was that for a little kid? I didn’t stayawake nights thinking about happiness. I stayed awake thinkingabout the Repco boys’ bicycle from Australia that had just beenimported to the HawaiianIslands. They were supposed to be thehottest bicycles ever. My mom said we couldn’t afford one, but Iwas obsessed. I knew details still seared in my adult brain, suchas the Japanese-brand Shimano gearing and Zoom suspension forks. Iwanted me a bicycle. Thatwould have made me very happy.
To this moment, I rememberturning the piece of paper over and the little red writingsaid, Made in Taiwan. I wondered what part of the Chinese fortune cookie had beenmade in Taiwan. This was my first inkling that life wasn’t what itwas cracked up to be. You see, my mom was like a big, giant fortunecookie. She always predicted great happiness for me. She just nevermentioned it would be such hard work.
I’d always been unlucky in love, firstlosing my heart to Kaolin, an emotional drifter who, come to thinkof it, had some pretty lousy gearings and suspect suspension forks.I did better falling for my current lover, Francois Aumary, eventhough on paper he might have appeared a disastrous choice. Arecently bisexual, former mercenary, former Marine, Green Beret andnow security specialist, he wasn’t made in Taiwan, but his son wasmade in Florida.
Yes, after several months of gaydomestic splendor, my life partner dropped a thirteen-year old bombin my lap.
Ferric has become a big part of mylife, our lives, and we live very well together, but at the moment,Ferric and I were in a jam and Francois was nowhere to beseen.
To backtrack a little, letme just say I never expected to get into trouble in sedate, upscaleConnecticut. A little tipsy at my best friend, Leilani’s, wedding,yes. A little jealous that she and her girlfriend, Mele, weregetting married, but Francois refused to marry me until it waslegal in Hawaii, maybe. Well, yes.
“Dude…are they pointing gunsat us?” Ferric asked. He kept looking from my driver’s side windowto his. No mistaking it. Two serious guys with twofelonious-looking weapons.
I’m an accountant. Shit likethis isn’t supposed to happen to me.
Dang. This was just one of a series ofstupid thoughts that crossed my mind in my moment of terror. It’strue that your life flashes before your eyes. But why Yee Hing? Whywas I thinking about Chinese food when in all likelihood I wasabout to snuff it?
And why in the world I choseto remember the damned bicycle I never got when I was about to getblown away in a rental car? It speaks to my utter fear, myobsession with stuff and my belief in Never-Never Land, I suppose.
I stared at the guy standing by thedriver’s side. To his right, I could see a woman peering out at usat the crosswalk where I’d stopped. She hid behind curtain sheersfrom a respectable redbrick house and I hoped she
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