Cameron's Pride
Title: Cameron's Pride
Series: Thrown to the Lions (Book 4)
Publisher: Resplendence Publishing.
Genre: Male/Male, BDSM, Werelions
Release Date: December 2010 - Available Now
Please note: this book is best read in sequence as part of the series.
Here's the blurb:
Franklin knows the way the game is played. It’s the man with the money who calls the shots, and Franklin has plenty of money. When he sees a beautiful lion shifter called Caramel dancing on the stage at his favourite club, he doesn’t hesitate to reach for his wallet. And, when Caramel disappears before he can even open negotiations, he’s quick to pay a fortune in order to be thrown to the only pride of werelions in the area.
Cameron’s been living without a pride for years, doing whatever it takes to survive. Dancing in clubs, and doing whatever the guys who throw money at him want him to do in the alleyways behind those clubs, hasn’t given him the best opinion of human men. All he knows for sure is that the rich ones are the worst.
The pride are determined to track down the lone lion that’s living in their territory and bring him safely under their care, but is it too late for Cameron to find a sense of pride—and if he does, will he be too proud to let a wealthy man like Franklin into his life?
And here's a quick excerpt:
“I’m looking for a lion called Caramel.”
For several seconds, Franklin Hamilton strained his ears. He could feel several pairs of eyes running over his naked body, but no one spoke up to either confirm or deny Caramel’s presence in the lions’ den.
Franklin took a deep breath. The heat from the fire he could feel burning to his right, raced into his lungs. It scorched and seemed to threaten to suffocate him after the colder air that had filled the…the driveway, he supposed it must have been. It was hard to be certain of anything while the blindfold covered his eyes.
There was only one thing Franklin felt sure of. Caramel was there. He had to be. Franklin shuffled his feet against the rug beneath him as he waited for someone to speak, for Caramel to make his existence known.
Eyes continued to rake over Franklin’s exposed body, he could sense other men’s attention surrounding him. If his hands hadn’t been cuffed behind him, he might have actually given in to a display of weakness and brought them in front of his crotch in an effort to cover himself. As it was, there was nothing he could do but wait and hope he’d finally managed to track down the man he was looking for.
Franklin squared his shoulders and lifted his chin. There would be no weakness, not from him.
A hand suddenly brushed against the back of his head. Before Franklin could react, it deftly unfastened the buckle holding his blindfold in place. The leather fell away from his face. There was no light other than the fire burning in the grate, but, after so long in complete darkness, Franklin was still half-blinded by the flickering flames.
Quickly turning his face away from the blaze, he only managed to catch the briefest glimpse of the man in front of him out of the very corner of his eye. That was still sufficient for him to realize that he wasn’t facing the pretty little dancer he was looking for.
Franklin had spent more than enough hours staring at Caramel while the shifter had been on stage to be able to recognize him instantly. The lion he wanted was all lean lines of graceful muscle, high cheekbones and tumbling golden locks.
As Franklin’s eyes adjusted to the firelight, he quickly ran his gaze over the man before him. He couldn’t have been more different to the man Franklin expected to see.
“What do you know about Caramel?” the man demanded, as he glared down at Franklin, making full use of any psychological advantage his greater height might give him.
He was indeed taller than Franklin, and he was older, and broader across the shoulders too. If anyone had asked Franklin to picture the kind of person who might be capable of turning into a wild animal at the slightest provocation, the man before him would have fulfilled all the requirements perfectly.
Strengthening his body language as best he could while still bound, Franklin squared his stance and refused to show the slightest hint of fragility.
Just because everyone was naked, that didn’t mean this was all that different to a board meeting. The same psychology applied. The shifters were probably just slightly more honest about the kill or be killed nature of their dealings with each other.
“Where’s Caramel?” Franklin demanded, in exactly the same tone he’d have used with the head of a major project that was over-budget, behind schedule, and swirling around the bottom of the drain.
Apparently, that voice didn’t work on lions. Humans twice Franklin’s age had panicked when they heard it, and suddenly realized working for a twenty-four year old wouldn’t be the easy ride they expected. The feline in front of him didn’t even blink.
“I asked you, what do you know about Caramel?” the larger man reminded him, perfectly calmly.
A movement from the corner of Franklin’s eye caught his attention. He turned toward a smaller, younger man. The pretty little blond boy’s hand came to rest gently on the forearm of the man in front of Franklin, as if he was trying to soothe the larger man’s temper.
The boy met Franklin’s gaze without any hesitation, but there was no challenge in his expression only a kind of serious curiosity. “This is Ellery,” he said, softly. “My name’s Kefir.”
Silence descended. Franklin got the distinct impression the younger man would wait however long it took to be offered the same information in return, even if that turned out to be hours—or even days.
“Franklin Hamilton,” he provided, impatient to move on to more important matters as quickly as possible.
Kefir smiled encouragingly up at him. “And you’re looking for Cameron—for a feline dancer that calls himself Caramel?”
“Yes.” Franklin tried to peer past them and spot Caramel in the shadows. It wasn’t easy while Ellery continued to stand directly in front of him, blocking his view.
“So are we.”
“What?” Franklin’s attention snapped back to Kefir.
“We’ve been looking for him for some time,” the smaller man said. “If you have information then…”
“He’s not here?” Franklin demanded.
Ellery shifted his stance the moment Franklin raised his voice. He obviously didn’t like anyone shouting at his…Franklin glanced at Kefir and took note of the silver collar around the younger man’s neck…Ellery’s human submissive.
Franklin looked from one man to the other, then back again. It was time to cut to the bones of the matter. “I’ll pay you for any information you have.”
Kefir tilted his head to one side, as if he didn’t really understand the concept. Ellery’s expression was far more knowing. He might not be as impressed with the offer as Franklin had hoped, but at least he seemed to understand the theory.
“Perhaps, if we all sit down and tell each other what we know, that would help?” Kefir suggested.
Ellery nodded. They both stepped back, giving Franklin his first unobstructed view of the room. Over a dozen shifters sat in pairs and groups. Mixed in with them appeared to be a few human submissives, like Kefir.
As Ellery took a seat in one of the armchairs, the smaller man sat at his feet, for all the world like a well trained pet.
It wouldn’t do to let the man think all humans could be treated the same way. “Do you intend to remove my cuffs?” Franklin asked, pointedly.
“No.” Ellery said it as if he had every right to keep him bound for however long he damn well pleased.
Boardroom survival skills made Franklin’s next move clear. He didn’t even hesitate. “Are all lions so afraid of humans that they insist they must remain bound in their presence, or is it just you?”
Ellery’s reaction should have been easy to predict. He should have tensed at the insult and risen to the challenge. Franklin frowned as the other man’s lips twitched as if he was trying to bite back a sudden smile.
“I wouldn’t know,” Ellery eventually said. “Not being a lion.”
Franklin blinked at him.
Ellery’s smile broke through. Against all logic, it didn’t make the man look the least bit friendlier. If anything, he just looked hungry.
Franklin glanced at Kefir. The younger man did look far more like Caramel than Ellery ever could. He didn’t have the dancer’s build, or his grace of line. His hair was shorter. But, there was definitely something around the eyes, something…feline?
Vehement curses rolled around Franklin’s head, but he didn’t let them out. Pushing the whole matter aside and ignoring his mistake as if it had never happened, he pushed on, instead. “Is Caramel a member of this pride or not? I was told this is the only male pride in the area that accepts male sacrifices.”
“That much is true.”
Franklin spun around. Another armchair was occupied by another man with much the same build and manner as Ellery. He also had a younger man sitting at his feet. Franklin took a moment to study both men’s eyes, looking for any feline qualities there before he made a fool of himself again.
The older man had a dark mane of hair and a glint in his eye that marked him out as the more likely candidate.
“Who’s in charge here?” Franklin demanded, looking from that man to Ellery and back again.
“Joseph Arslan,” the man with the mane introduced himself. “I lead this pride. But, Kefir is the lion in charge of our search for Cameron.”
“How much?” Franklin asked him, never taking his eyes off Arslan.
Arslan’s eyes narrowed. “Excuse me?”
“How much money do you want in exchange for ordering all the lions in your pride to give me any information they have on Caramel’s whereabouts?” Franklin specified, impatience rushing through every word as he realized he seemed to have stumbled into an entire room full of men who had no idea how business was conducted.
The fire continued to burn as brightly as ever, but the temperature in the room somehow seemed to drop. It was all Franklin could do not to let a shiver run down his spine.
“And if you find him, what do you intend to do then?” Arslan asked.
Franklin glared down his nose at the seated shifter. “I fail to see what concern that would be of yours.”
Arslan smiled. It wasn’t a particularly friendly expression. “You’re standing in a room full of lions who could easily tear you limb from limb. If you fail to refer to his mate with due respect again, Ellery can probably add a human to that number. Insults are not your best course of action.”
“It wasn’t an insult, it was a business offer,” Franklin corrected. “You have information I want, and I’m prepared to pay very handsomely to get it.”
“Did you pay Kershaw to throw you to us tonight as well?” Arslan asked.
The more politely the lion spoke, the more tense the man sitting at his feet became. Franklin had known a secretary like that once, she had always been the best indication of her boss’ mood.
Franklin studied the submissive at Arslan’s feet, eager to gain any advantage before negotiations began in earnest. Apparently, he stared at him for a second too long.
Suddenly Arslan wasn’t sitting placidly in his chair, he was standing directly in front of Franklin, looming over him, a snarl building in the back of his throat.
“Yes,” Franklin rushed out, helpless to do anything else. “I paid Kershaw.”
“And what do you intend to pay Cameron to do if you succeed in tracking him down?” Arslan demanded.
Franklin tried to meet the older man’s gaze and hold it, but it was damn near impossible to out-stare a man who didn’t appear to need to blink.
As the seconds passed, it was all Franklin could do to hold his ground when his body begged him to take several rapid steps back. “That would be between myself and Cameron,” he managed to say. Habit held him in good stead. The words were neither as weak nor uncertain as he feared they might be.
Arslan made a disgusted noise in the back of his throat as he spun away from him. “Humans!”
The leader of the pride ran his fingers through his lover’s hair as he rejoined him, perhaps in apology for insulting his submissive’s species, perhaps not.
Franklin turned toward Kefir as he automatically sought out a weaker link to bargain with.
“You’ve seen him recently?” the smaller lion asked, his tone as mild as ever.
“A few weeks ago,” Franklin admitted.
“Where?” There was nothing mild about the way Ellery barked out his question.
Franklin considered his options. Searching for the other man on his own wasn’t working. Would it really be such a bad idea to use the pride to track the shifter down? They couldn’t do any worse than the private detectives Franklin had already invested a fortune in.
“In a night club on the other side of town,” he replied.
Within minutes, Kefir and Ellery had a whole selection of maps and notebooks spread out across the table on the far side of the room and they were both pouring over them with Franklin. The other shifters and their mates moved around them, tucking into the plates full of food that had been pushed to one side. But, as the other lions turned their attention to conversations on other matters, Franklin stayed at the table with the little lion and his master.
When Ellery finally undid his cuffs so he could help them sort through the papers, Franklin quickly found himself in his element. Putting together the clues wasn’t that different to putting together a business deal, and Franklin knew how good he was at those.
The other two men had already done most of the grunt work. No doubt they would be far from pleased when they discovered he had no intention of sharing Caramel with the pride when they finally found him.
With a mental shrug, Franklin gave all his attention to the notebook where Kefir’s neat writing listed the places that the dancer might be. Their hurt feelings weren’t his problem. And anyway, in his experience, there were few actions that couldn’t be forgiven if a man threw enough money at the offended parties.