Excerpt Day: Hungry Heart by Jenna Byrnes

[reviews_and_ramblings]

Hungry Heart by Jenna Byrnes
Release Date: April 12, 2009
Publisher: Phaze Books
ISBN: 978-1-59426-667-6
Publisher Link: http://www.king-cart.com/Phaze/product=Hungry+Heart/exact_match=exact

Blurb: Captain Gil Gates is a proud member of the N.Y.P.D. and enjoys his position running a North Bronx precinct. When an incident with grave repercussions rocks the department and the whole community, Gil's otherwise spotless record is suddenly in jeopardy. Brian Knight is Channel Nine's star news reporter, following the most exciting story the Bronx has seen in quite some time. In his line of work, as with Gil's, being gay no big deal unless someone finds out about it. Brian is the sexiest guy Gil's been with in ages, but certainly not someone he can confide in as his career spins out of control. Yet Brian offers something the department can't--something that's been missing from Gil's life for too long. If only he can clear his name and solve a double homicide while he's at it.

Excerpt:

Chapter One

"Life sucks, and then you die." Gil Gates raised his beer mug in a toast and took a drink.

"God, that was cheerful." Long time friend Nick D'Amato shook his head, sipping his own beer.

"It's been that kind of a week." Gil set his glass down on the napkin coaster. "I can't remember when so much shit has flown my way."

"No kidding." Sam Nielson fingered the handle of his mug. "The media coverage of your troubles this week has been incredible. Reminds me of our police academy days when that serial killer had all of New York City up in arms. What did they call that guy?"

"Son of Sam?" Gil reached for the name. There'd been more serial killers in the city than he cared to think about, let alone recall their nicknames. He prided himself on a good memory, though.

Sam chuckled. "Nah, this was after Sam, and I still resent the name choice, by the way. The strangler guy. Remember at the academy, going over all the details we could dig up? The three of us thought if we could catch him, we'd graduate as heroes or some dumb ass thing."

"Oh, yeah!" Nick laughed. "Little did we know, the cops didn't release most of the pertinent information to the public. We were green as toads back then."

"The Night Strangler?" Gil offered.

"Wasn't that a TV show?" Sam nudged him jovially.

"Fuck, I don't know." Lifting his mug, Gil took another drink of cold beer. It had been one hell of a week, and Friday night out with his two best friends was a welcome distraction. He'd had concerns about going to Houlihan's, their usual hangout, because the pub always crawled with cops. Gil felt them looking at him. No one dared say anything, but he knew he figured heavily into everyone's conversation when discussing events of the week. He'd had the worst week possible.

He closed his eyes. Officers Stanis and Malone were dead. They'd obviously had worse weeks than him. And their families—he could still see the sad eyes of Stanis' small blond-haired son at the funeral. Funerals. One right after another, and then two burials. It'd been a fucking nightmare of a day for everyone, but as the officers' police captain, he took it especially hard.

"Get you boys another round?" Donna, their usual waitress, smiled sadly at Gil.

He frowned. Does everyone know my problems? Yeah, they probably did. As Sam had noted, media coverage on the police department fiasco had been intense. "Keep 'em coming, Donna."

"Bad week, eh Captain?" The plump, middle-aged woman nodded sympathetically.

The last thing he wanted to do was talk about it. Before he could reply, Nick held up a dollar bill.

"Donna, see what you can find on the jukebox, will you?" He waved the cash, smiling at her.

She plucked it from his hand, feigning irritation. "Springsteen, I assume?"

He blinked innocently. "There's other music in there?"

"Three beers and the Boss, coming right up." She walked off.

“Thanks." Gil looked at Nick. The man with consistently scruffy brown hair was a good friend, and had been for over twenty years since they met at the academy. Back then, Gil was an exemplary cadet with a spotless record and a secret—he was a gay man attempting to enter the heterosexual boy's club of the NYPD. He thought he'd done well keeping up appearances until Sam approached him one day and flat out asked him for the truth. Gil was hesitant to admit his orientation, but warmed up to it when he discovered Sam and Nick were fucking like rabbits in a local hotel on the weekends.

From that point on, he'd been included in the wildest, hottest bouts of group sex he'd ever experienced. They maintained the torrid relationship throughout their time at the academy, eventually breaking it off so each man could pursue his own job interests. The three remained friends. Closer than most, Gil mused, smiling to himself. They now met for drinks every other Friday at Houlihan's.

Strains of Bruce Springsteen's ballad My Hometown wafted through the pub. Gil nodded to his friends and sipped his beer. This was exactly what he needed—time to relax and forget—not that I ever really could.

"So," Sam tore his coaster into tiny shreds. "Are you getting any sleep?"

"Some." Gil watched him for a moment. "Christ, enough with tearing the napkin already. Remember how he used to tear the labels off his beer bottles the same fucking way." He looked at Nick. "Am I right?"

"You're right." Nick grinned. "Piece by little fucking piece. We always accumulated a pile of trash on our table by the end of the night."

"Still do." Gil swept the paper into his hand and wadded it up. "Jesus, man. You're a pig."