QSFer Arthur Griffin has a new MM fantasy romance out: Jake Monroe and the Case of the Missing Mermaid.
In a world where the public knows about the existence of supernatural creatures, hardened human private eye Jake Monroe makes a living cracking cases with a paranormal element. A resident of LA’s gayest neighborhood, Jake fills his days with work, drink, and men.
When the daughter of a wealthy family goes missing, Jake dives into the case, discovering the girl in question is transspecies — a mermaid born into the body of a human. As Jake uncovers evidence of her whereabouts, he’s also drawn to a handsome young actor who happens to be a burgeoning sorcerer. This complicates his love life, as his sexy ex-boyfriend, the porn star-turned-MMA fighter Nico, is helping him on the case.
Will Jake be able to find the missing mermaid, pay his rent, and choose which man he’s meant to be with?
The lights of Cold Ghost cast a dim glow over its patrons as Pete and I settled into a booth. The clink of glasses and low hum of conversation surrounded us, creating a strangely intimate atmosphere despite the dingy surroundings.
“Nice bar,” Pete said, looking around. “I’ve seen this place from the outside but never came in here before.”
“Clientele too old?” I asked, raising an eyebrow. At thirty, I was already considered a relic in the LA gay scene.
“No, not at all,” Pete said.
“Mm-hmm,” I said, taking a sip of my whiskey. “Anyway. Thanks for helping out with the investigation. You’ve really got a knack for this magic stuff.”
“Still learning, but I’m glad I could help,” Pete replied, a playful smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “It’s not every day I get to hang out with a rugged, handsome private eye.”
“Is that so?” I smirked, feeling the heat rise in my cheeks. “Well, you clean up pretty nice yourself.”
We shared a laugh, our eyes lingering on each other just a little too long. The air between us crackled with tension, and I found myself wanting to reach across the table and pull him closer.
“Listen, Pete,” I began, my voice barely above a whisper, “I don’t know what this thing is between us, but …”
“This is our second date,” he said. It was a declarative statement.
“Oh, this is a date? I hadn’t realized.”
“And I don’t have sex with guys I really like on the first date.”
“Indeed. You’ve mentioned that.”
“But, again,” he said, leaning closer. “This is our second date.”
I leaned closer as well, matching him. “Indeed it is.”
“So if the offer’s still on the table, I’d very much like to come home with you.”
The night air was thick with anticipation as we made our way to my apartment, the city lights casting a seductive glow on the streets below. I could practically feel the heat from Pete’s body as he walked beside me, and my heart pounded in my chest like it was trying to break free.
We got to my building, and I hastily let us in. We took the elevator up to the third floor, and before too long we were at my apartment.
“Nice place,” Pete said as I unlocked the door and led him inside. The dim lighting cast a warm, inviting ambiance across the living room, its shadows playing on the walls like dancers at a masquerade.
“Thanks.” I glanced around, suddenly self-conscious about the empty whiskey bottles and scattered books that littered the coffee table. “It’s not much, but it’s home.”
Arthur Griffin fell in love with mythology as a six-year-old when his mother, not able to find a sitter, took him with her to her art history class. They were studying Renaissance paintings of Greek and Roman legends, and he learned two very important things that day.
One, that there was a whole new world of thrilling stories and myths for him to explore and be enchanted by.
And two, dude! A lot of people were naked back then!
Since then, he’s always enjoyed the steamier side of stories of the ancient world, and is thrilled to be exploring them in his writing. Sometimes his stories are set in a fictional version of the past, or sometimes the gods of old come knockin’ (boots) in the present, but almost always there’s some element of mythology visible in his work.
Arthur lives in Los Angeles with his boyfriend and two imaginary dogs. He had an imaginary cat, but it died.
When he’s not writing fantastical tales of two (or more) dudes doing the bone dance, he enjoys hiking, karaoke, superhero comics, getting drinks in West Hollywood, going to the beach, going to the gym, going to the movies, and writing non-smutty screenplays. (But for the record, smut is WAY more fun.)
You can follow him on Twitter at @MrArthurGriffin, on Facebook at www.facebook.com/MrArthurGriffin, or email him at MrArthurGriffin@gmail.com.