Diverse Reader: Blog Tour: Acts of Passion by Sedonia Guillone #Excerpt Guest Post #Giveaway

TITLE: Acts of Passion

AUTHOR: Sedonia Guillone

COVER ARTIST: Louca Matheo

LENGTH: 186 Pages

GENRE: LGBT; Gay Romance; Mystery and Detective; Romantic Suspense

RELEASE DATE: January 15, 2016

BLURB: When a man is found in his apartment, appearing to have committed hara kiri with a samurai sword, Boston Homicide Detective Jack Cade suspects more is going on than what it appears. The department’s criminal profiler has left and a new guy is taking his place. At first, Cade is skeptical of Dr. Michael Di Santo. Di Santo seems so absent-minded and too neurotic to be effective. But he is brilliant and hot and Cade finds himself falling hard and fast, both in lust and in love. The attraction is mutual, although Michael's past demons haunt him, keeping him from getting too close. Together, they begin to unravel Michael's emotional knots even as they close in on a killer, another brilliant, wily person whose sights are now set on Michael.

Studying the front area of the building, he wandered down the flower box lined stone walk of the apartment building and turned to face it. Crime lab workers and patrol officers moved around on either side of the yellow crime tape, keeping the building cordoned off until Jack gave instructions to clear out and retain only the apartment as the crime scene.

Jack stepped aside to let someone go past him and bump! Smacked into something.

He turned. “Excuse me, I’m—” Or rather, he’d bumped into someone.

The man was adjusting the glasses Jack had apparently knocked off his face. “You’re in a crime scene,” Jack said.

“Yes, I know.” Almond-shaped brown eyes seemed to study Jack from behind round lenses. He looked Asian, yet sort of…not Asian at the same time. His dark brown hair was styled in a conventional way, parted on the side in short layers. The crumpled navy suit he wore, complete with diagonally striped tie against a light blue dress shirt made him appear as if his mother had dressed him for a spelling bee at school even though he was probably about Jack’s age. Forty.

Jack blinked. He was taking absolutely too long to find out who this man was. Then light dawned. Of course. “Dr. Di Santo?”

“Detective Cade?”

“That’s me. Hope I didn’t break your glasses.”

Di Santo touched them on each side as if to check. “No, they’re fine.”

Jack watched the man’s hands as he gingerly adjusted the frames. Nicely shaped fingers. Clean, trimmed nails. “Sorry I bumped you that way.”

“No problem.” Di Santo cleared his throat. “I hope I can be of help to you.”

Jack started. “Me too. This way.” He led Di Santo into the building and up to the apartment. “As I told you on the phone, I’m not so sure this was a suicide.” He let Di Santo precede him into the apartment and followed him, observing the way the slim man took in the surroundings on his way over to the victim.

Jack explained his suspicions and then let the man work. For what seemed a long time, Di Santo wandered about then stood in the center of the room, his gaze on the coffee table. His hand disappeared into his jacket pocket and pulled something out, which he popped into his mouth.

Jack watched him. Watched the man’s cheek bulge on the side while he sucked on whatever it was in his mouth, his gaze intent on the coffee table and victim. He then approached Jack and Jack heard the click of hard candy against the guy’s teeth. Finally Di Santo turned and knelt by the body.

Jack saw the professor’s eyes widen, especially on the hilt of the knife. “What is it?”

Di Santo seemed to ignore his question, staring at the knife. “Were his hands on the hilt of the knife or over his face when you found him?”

“Over his face.”

“Okay. Please open the robe so I can see the wound,” he said to Murphy.

Murphy did as he asked and Di Santo gazed for what seemed five straight minutes at the vicious cross-shaped cut in the centre of the wound.

“Jumonji giri,” he said, nearly in a whisper.

“What?” Jack looked between the knife wound and Di Santo.

The hot-yet-nerdy man was still staring down, seeming to ignore him. The candy in his mouth clicked several times against his teeth.

“Dr. Di Santo?”

Michael Di Santo looked up, his eyes seemingly far away yet intent at the same time. “What kind of movies did this man watch?”

Kindle US: http://www.amazon.com/Acts-Passion-Michael-Santo-Suspense-ebook/dp/B01AFK9FTG/

Paperback: http://www.amazon.com/Acts-Passion-Michael-Santo-Suspense/dp/1523246529/

AllRomance ebooks: https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-actsofpassion-1968459-145.html

Kobo: https://store.kobobooks.com/en-us/ebook/acts-of-passion-2

Nook: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/acts-of-passion-sedonia-guillone/1030145604?ean=2940157738044

Google Play: https://play.google.com/store/books/details/Sedonia_Guillone_Acts_of_Passion?id=yytjCwAAQBAJ

The next good thing

I wish I could say that my next book was coming soon and give a date for it. However, I am still waiting to hear back from a publisher about my submission. It’s been there for over two months now under consideration, which I take to be a good sign since last I checked in, they were actively considering it. The thing that is slowing things down is that the story is historical, although technically more yaoi inspired than strictly historical.

Some people may familiar with my Sword and Silk trilogy, from which for all this time, the third book has not been released. It’s all written and now will be released either at the publisher where I have submitted it, or at Ai Press where the first two books are currently.

The trilogy takes place in18th century feudal Japan, at the beginning of the waning of the Tokugawa Shogunate. In the late 1800s, the emperor Meiji restored the imperial family as the rulers of Japan and formally put and end to the age of the samurai. (Just an historical tidbit for those unfamiliar with this part of history).

The Sword and Silk trilogy centers on a group of interconnected characters in the castle town of Kai, outside of Edo. The samurai heroes of each story are ronin (masterless samurai) and men who love where their hearts lead them. Book One, Flying Fish (Ai Press) tells of the romance between Daisuke Minamoto, a ronin samurai who has returned to his home town to avenge his wife’s murder by the lord of the province. His path crosses with Genji, an intoxicatingly beautiful kabuki actor and his unexpected passion for Genji forces Daisuke to make a choice: revenge or love. He can’t have both. Book Two, Blind Love (Ai Press) (and one of my personal favorites I’ve written) has a fancfiction tribute to Zatoichi the blind swordsman, who, in my tale, has trained an apprentice, Sho, whose training has taken him away from his best friend, Hirata, a young samurai from a ronin family. Hirata cannot bear the separation which appears permanent and searches for ten long years for the other half of his soul. When he crosses paths with a man he is certain is Sho, the other man denies knowing him. Hirata won’t accept that answer and will get to the truth, no matter what…

The character that appears in both the first two books is Aoki, one of Genji’s fellow troupe members. Genji and Aoki are good friends and Aoki does Genji’s makeup and looks out for him when he begins his love affair with Daisuke. In Book 2, a young traumatized child, Toho is put into Aoki’s care because Aoki is a kind, loving person who helps the boy heal. When Toho is adopted into a samurai family and grows into a handsome samurai, the man of Aoki’s dreams, their relationship begins to change, But then a tragic event may destroy Aoki’s life and end their chance before it even begins. Hence, the story told in Book 3: Blossom of the Samurai.

I would like to share a teaser from Book 3 (unedited, may differ slightly from the final version) Thank you so much for reading and I hope that a samurai era yaoi series is something you would enjoy. Hugs, Sedonia's Magic Words, Inc.

Excerpt:

As he’d hoped, by the middle of the hour of the Monkey, the garden gate to Aoki’s little town house loomed ahead. Memories flooded in with each step he took down the narrow dirt side street that held a row of townhouses, each with its own front garden. Only now, instead of a traumatized peasant boy, he walked as a man, a dignified samurai, his status marked by the clothing he wore, and the glint of sunlight off his wintergreen-oiled hair. He was no longer the peasant boy in rough-cloth, hanging onto Sho’s hand for dear life, terrified of killer ronin popping out of every corner to hack him to pieces with their swords as they’d done to his screaming parents. Passing through the gate of Aoki’s residence was no longer an act of refuge for a little boy, but the reunion of two friends, one concerned for the other’s wellbeing.

At the gate he stopped, took a deep breath and pulled the string to the clapper of the bell. A couple of moments passed until he heard the clop clop of wooden geta sandals along the stone pathway from the house. The little peeper window on the gate door opened and a young woman’s face appeared in the rectangular opening. Not the elderly servant Toho remembered, but a fresh-faced girl with porcelain skin.

“May I help you?” she asked.

“I’m—” Toho’s voice caught. His heart pounded. Aoki was moments away now… Toho cleared his throat. “I’m here to see Aoki-san. Is he home?”

“The master is not expecting anyone.”

Toho’s heart lurched. The previous servant would have recognized him immediately and thrown the gate open. He now felt like a stranger. “I know. I did not tell him I was coming. I wanted to surprise him.”

Suspicion infused the girl’s eyes though she retained her servile demeanor. “If you would wait, I will inform the master. Who is calling?”

An idea hit him. He cleared his throat again. A bit of confidence infused him. “Please tell Aoki-san that Toho is here to see his big sister.”

The girl’s eyebrows rose. “You are Toho-sama?” Her voice held a breathy note of wonder.

Toho’s heart surged again, but this time with joy. Aoki-san had spoken of him to others over the years! And in a very positive light, judging by the servant’s reaction. He squared his shoulders. “Yes. I’ve been away for many years.”

“Please, wait a moment.” The little peeper door shut and the wood clopping on stone receded back in the direction of the house.

Unable to resist, Toho pressed his ear close to the gate, hoping to hear what was going on. He heard muffled voices then, “To-chaaaaannnn?” followed by more wooden sandals clopping hurriedly on the little walkway.

In the next breath, the gate flew open.

There was Aoki, as beautiful as Toho remembered him, his long sleek hair tied loosely at his nape, and his slim form dressed in a kimono of yellow with little pink flowers, wound with a wide sash, a matching hue of pink.

Aoki wore an expression of curious hesitance. He seemed to study Toho’s face a bit too long. “To-chan, is it really you?”

Toho nodded. “It’s me, Aoki-san,” he said, fighting down the disappointment that threatened to engulf him. Aoki didn’t seem to recognize him and Toho feared that any moment, he’d be asked to leave. Then he thought the one thing that would ensure Aoki remembered him. “I brought your hair tie back to you, just as I promised so long ago.” He reached into his pack and dug it out quickly. There wasn’t a moment to lose. Toho retrieved the tie in its wrapping of cloth and held it out. “Here you are. Sho made me stop wearing it so that it wouldn’t become frayed and ruined.”

Aoki looked from the small package to Toho’s face, back and forth several times. He accepted Toho’s offering, which he opened. As soon as the little black tie was exposed, Aoki’s eyes widened. “My little To-chan,” he breathed, “I can’t believe it!” He stared a moment longer then stepped forward and wrapped Toho in an embrace. “Oh, my little To-chan is here! I can’t believe it!” He whispered the words over and over, squeezing Toho tightly.

Toho sank into the embrace, enveloped by Aoki’s flowery scent. The comfort and sweetness that aroma had always given him resurged, long-buried in his soul. He closed his eyes and breathed it in. ”Aoki-san, I missed you so much.” He squeezed Aoki closer, his cheek on Aoki’s hair. Oh…the last time he’d hugged Aoki, his cheek could rest on Aoki’s chest. How slim and small Aoki really was! Had he always been so? “I was so worried I’d never see you again.”

Aoki lifted his head and disengaged from the embrace. His eyes shone with brimming tears. “When I awoke this morning, if anyone had told me I would see To-chan today in person, I would never have believed it!” He squeezed Toho’s hands and took a step back. “Let me look at you,” he said and perused Toho head to foot, eyes widening. A smile stretched Aoki’s full lips. “I am just in awe. You are an even handsomer young samurai that I imagined you’d grow up to be.”

The praise made Toho feel ridiculously pleased. A slight tingle infused his cheeks. “Handsome? Really?”

Aoki nodded emphatically. “Oh yes, absolutely. You were an adorable child. It’s only natural you would grow up to be so attractive.” He embraced Toho again. “Oh, To-chan! Words cannot express how happy I am to see you.” He gave Toho a squeeze then released him again. He peered behind Toho, through the gateway. “And where is Hirata? And Sho? Aren’t they with you?”

“No. They’re back in Edo.”

“You’re here by yourself?”

Toho squared his shoulders again. “Yes, Aoki-san. I…couldn’t wait to see you. I just couldn’t wait another day.” I wanted you to be proud of me, he thought, but didn’t say out loud.

Now Aoki’s hands went to his heart. “To-chan, you made this trip all alone, just to see me?” His eyes misted again.

“Yes, Aoki-san. I would make a thousand trips all alone just to see you.” Toho resisted the overpowering impulse to drop to his knees.

Aoki’s eyes misted anew. “Oh…my. I…don’t know what to say. No one’s ever done anything like that for me. Not in my whole life.”

Toho took a step closer. All he wanted was to pull Aoki into his arms again. How warm and soft Aoki was and how big and strong holding him had made Toho feel! Again, he resisted the urge. “Now someone has.”

A tear rolled from Aoki’s eye, down one delicate, rice-powdered cheek. “Yes, that’s true. Thank you.” Aoki delicately brushed the salty droplet from his cheek. “I must look a fright now,” he said. “But I’m being a terrible hostess. You must be hungry. Please, come in. Supper is cooking right now and I’ll have Peony bring a pot of tea and some rice cakes in the meantime.” Aoki hooked his arm through Toho’s and led him up the little stone walk, through the small garden where they’d spent many hours under Aoki’s small cherry blossom tree, watching the pink petals fall and swirl around them in the breeze during the hanami season. The memory flitted through Toho’s mind, of picking up a fallen flower and handing it to a smiling Aoki who put the blossom in his hair, just behind his ear.

At the doorway, the maidservant Peony was waiting and bowed politely, hands clasped in front of her. Aoki asked her for tea and rice cakes and informed her that Toho would be staying for supper and to make sure there was enough. After another bow, the girl left and Aoki assisted Toho with placing his weapons on the special rack at the entrance. Toho remembered watching Hirata place his long and short swords on this rack years ago. Back then, he’d never imagined the day would come when he would place his own weapons there. Aoki relieved him of his pack, straw hat and rain cloak, which he stored in a closet, then led Toho down the little hallway to the second door. The room where he and Aoki had spent so much time together laughing and playing games and where Aoki’s collection of beautiful kimonos was stored in the beautiful chest against the back wall.

Aoki slid open the door and ushered him in to the seating area close to the brazier where they knelt. Once seated, Aoki smiled at him and then covered his mouth briefly with both hands, a gesture that had always conveyed his emotions. “I’m still just in shock, To-chan. I can’t believe you’re actually here, sitting right in front of me. And that you made the journey all by yourself. After everything…” Aoki dipped his head in a tiny bow. “I’m so very touched and proud of you, To-chan.”

Pleasure and pride both flushed through Toho. “Really?” Exactly the response he’d hoped for.

“Oh yes, absolutely.” Suddenly Aoki’s expression grew sheepish. “And please, I apologize for the hesitant greeting I gave you at first. You must have been so disappointed.” Aoki gestured in the air. “These last few years as I’ve become somewhat well known, I get…admirers who really do not respect my privacy. I was afraid that somehow someone knew who you were and pretended to be you to gain entry. I get a little nervous sometimes.”

“Oh, I see!”

Aoki’s cheeks reddened slightly under the pale rice powder and he glanced away. “But of course, after just a moment, I knew it was you, To-chan. I could never not recognize you.”

Toho smiled again. Aoki’s words and gaze had always felt like the sun’s rays swathing him in warmth, inspiring self-confidence from the depths of his being. Just as quickly however, a cloud darkened the moment. Perhaps this problem of stalking fans had been the cause of his nightmare. “I’m especially glad to be here then, Aoki-san,” he said. “If there are unwanted visitors forcing their presence on you, you need protection. I will be your yojimbo.” Yes, the decision had been made. His destiny was here, protecting the one person he adored most in all the world. What other purpose was there?

Just then, Peony slid open the shoji door, knelt with her tray and served the tea. Aoki thanked her and when she left, proceeded to serve. “To-chan, I can’t tell you what that offer means to me, but I couldn’t ask such a thing of you. I’m not sure it’s needed, either.”

Toho looked down, his enthusiasm squashed. But just for the moment. Aoki was a modest person, someone who had difficulty accepting anything for himself. Always giving. He just needed convincing. “You didn’t ask, Aoki-san. I want to do this. I…” Emotions and words became garbled. His mind couldn’t think properly. Aoki’s large, dark eyes were on him. Toho cleared his throat. “I don’t want you to be alone anymore.”

Award-winning, multi-published author of erotic romance, Sedonia Guillone spends her days writing deliciously naughty romances—when she’s not cuddling with the man she loves or watching kung fu and samurai films and eating chocolate.

Sedonia welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email address on her author bio page at www.sedoniaguillone.com.