Exclusive Excerpt: The Same Page (Have Body, Will Guard Book 9) by Neil Plakcy

Excerpt:

The detective led Arseny to a part of the building where the cells looked like they were for longer-term holding, with two bunk beds and a pot in the corner. He unlocked a cell where another man sat on one of the bunks, his head in his hands.

His father had often said that Arseny made decisions based on his heart, not his brain, and he’d warned Arseny that the world did not look kindly on a man who did not consider the consequences of his actions.

What would his father say now? I told you so? Would he be able to contact Slava? Perhaps his father could use his contacts to get him released—or pay a ransom. How humiliating that would be, to go running to his papa like a small boy. No, there had to be something he could do himself.

The detective took Arseny’s arm and thrust him roughly into the cell, then clanged the door shut with a sound that reverberated through Arseny’s body. He collapsed on the cot across from the other man, who didn’t look up until the detective had left.

The Same Page

Arseny was immediately struck by how handsome his cell mate was. Black hair, a couple of days’ scruff of beard, piercing dark eyes. He got up and paced back and forth a few times, walking with the cocky, chest-forward attitude of a short man accustomed to making his presence known among men much taller than he was. The kind of man Arseny would have gravitated toward immediately in a gay bar in Moscow.

Watching him, Arseny was flooded with a desire to get down on his knees, eat out the man’s tight ass, and fuck him until he whimpered and cried out and ejaculated solely from the pressure of Arseny’s dick against his prostate.

But instead they were in a prison cell, in a country known for its opposition to homosexuality. Arseny repressed any urges and simply said, “You are Russian? Or Chechen?”

The man shrugged. “I speak only a few words of Russian,” he said, in that language. “Sono Italiano.”

Arseny spoke no Italian beyond hello and goodbye, so he tried, “English?”

The man smiled and nodded. “Yes, English. I am Giovanni. You are?”

“Arseny. How do you come here?”

“It is all big mistake,” Giovanni said. “I am archaeologist by trade. I come here to see ancient sites. I wish to buy some items for museum, and suddenly I am arrested and accused.” He cocked his head. “You?”

“I don’t know why I’m here.” Arseny had no intention of revealing his true reason for being in Chechnya, so he stuck to his cover story. “I want to start an import-export business and I came here to meet with a man who could supply me with merchandise. But for some reason the police think he is corrupt, and because of him, me.”

“This is messed-up country,” Giovanni said. “Both of us innocent and in jail for no reason.”

They talked for a few more minutes, then lapsed into silence. Arseny’s stomach grumbled, and he realized he hadn’t had anything to eat since breakfast. Did they feed prisoners? Would it be something edible?

“You live in Russia?” Giovanni asked.

“In Moscow. You?”

“In Rome. But my family, they are from Assisi. You know, from Saint Francis? The one with the animals?”

Arseny had heard of him. “A small town?”

Giovanni shrugged. “Not so small. But Rome? Rome is big city, much like Moscow, I think.”

“I have never been to Rome,” Arseny said. “Or anywhere in Italy. My father lives now in Monaco, so maybe I will visit him some time. Is not far from where he lives to Italy.”

“Ah, the Riviera ligure,” Giovanni said. “Very beautiful. I have been several times, with a person I once loved.”

Arseny wondered if the lack of gender to the “person” was deliberate, or simply because Giovanni’s English was not perfect.

He pushed a little. “I have loved like that,” he said. “But eventually it ended. The person and I wanted different things in life.”

Giovanni nodded, and Arseny thought he saw something in the Italian’s dark eyes. “You have a business in Moscow?”

“Not yet.” Arseny felt a bit ashamed at admitting that his father had transferred some of his business assets to him and to his sister before fleeing Moscow, and that he lived on that income rather than anything he did himself. “I am just out of university for one year.”

He looked at Giovanni. “You must have a doctorate degree for your job?”

Giovanni shook his head. “I am a low-level person. The kind they send out to dangerous places. I think the term from military in English is cannon fodder.”

Arseny didn’t know that term, and Giovanni explained it. “Do you ever watch the American Star Trek?” he asked.

“Oh, yes,” Arseny said with feeling. “Kirk and Spock!”

He was suddenly embarrassed, but Giovanni nodded. “Yes, Kirk and Spock. Very handsome men, good friends.”

Before Arseny could fully process that comment, Giovanni continued. “There is idea among fans of show. That on exploration of strange planet, characters wearing red shirts will be killed by aliens.”

They began to discuss favorite episodes of the show, and the similar Star Wars movies, and Arseny felt more and more drawn to the handsome Italian. Though it was foolish to assume anything, in a jail cell in a strange place where even the idea that a man could be sexually attracted to another man was grounds for imprisonment or death.

But Arseny couldn’t help wondering. Maybe that was why Giovanni had been arrested. Perhaps he had made an advance to another man, been revealed and taken into custody. Was that why the police had put them in this cell together?

Were they being watched for signs of romantic activity? Arseny gulped. All the more reason to watch himself.

Excerpt for Jon Michaelsen from The Same Page

The detective led Arseny to a part of the building where the cells looked like they were for longer-term holding, with two bunk beds and a pot in the corner. He unlocked a cell where another man sat on one of the bunks, his head in his hands.

His father had often said that Arseny made decisions based on his heart, not his brain, and he’d warned Arseny that the world did not look kindly on a man who did not consider the consequences of his actions.

What would his father say now? I told you so? Would he be able to contact Slava? Perhaps his father could use his contacts to get him released—or pay a ransom. How humiliating that would be, to go running to his papa like a small boy. No, there had to be something he could do himself.

The detective took Arseny’s arm and thrust him roughly into the cell, then clanged the door shut with a sound that reverberated through Arseny’s body. He collapsed on the cot across from the other man, who didn’t look up until the detective had left.

Arseny was immediately struck by how handsome his cell mate was. Black hair, a couple of days’ scruff of beard, piercing dark eyes. He got up and paced back and forth a few times, walking with the cocky, chest-forward attitude of a short man accustomed to making his presence known among men much taller than he was. The kind of man Arseny would have gravitated toward immediately in a gay bar in Moscow.

Watching him, Arseny was flooded with a desire to get down on his knees, eat out the man’s tight ass, and fuck him until he whimpered and cried out and ejaculated solely from the pressure of Arseny’s dick against his prostate.

But instead they were in a prison cell, in a country known for its opposition to homosexuality. Arseny repressed any urges and simply said, “You are Russian? Or Chechen?”

The man shrugged. “I speak only a few words of Russian,” he said, in that language. “Sono Italiano.”

Arseny spoke no Italian beyond hello and goodbye, so he tried, “English?”

The man smiled and nodded. “Yes, English. I am Giovanni. You are?”

“Arseny. How do you come here?”

“It is all big mistake,” Giovanni said. “I am archaeologist by trade. I come here to see ancient sites. I wish to buy some items for museum, and suddenly I am arrested and accused.” He cocked his head. “You?”

“I don’t know why I’m here.” Arseny had no intention of revealing his true reason for being in Chechnya, so he stuck to his cover story. “I want to start an import-export business and I came here to meet with a man who could supply me with merchandise. But for some reason the police think he is corrupt, and because of him, me.”

“This is messed-up country,” Giovanni said. “Both of us innocent and in jail for no reason.”

They talked for a few more minutes, then lapsed into silence. Arseny’s stomach grumbled, and he realized he hadn’t had anything to eat since breakfast. Did they feed prisoners? Would it be something edible?

“You live in Russia?” Giovanni asked.

“In Moscow. You?”

“In Rome. But my family, they are from Assisi. You know, from Saint Francis? The one with the animals?”

Arseny had heard of him. “A small town?”

Giovanni shrugged. “Not so small. But Rome? Rome is big city, much like Moscow, I think.”

“I have never been to Rome,” Arseny said. “Or anywhere in Italy. My father lives now in Monaco, so maybe I will visit him some time. Is not far from where he lives to Italy.”

“Ah, the Riviera ligure,” Giovanni said. “Very beautiful. I have been several times, with a person I once loved.”

Arseny wondered if the lack of gender to the “person” was deliberate, or simply because Giovanni’s English was not perfect.

He pushed a little. “I have loved like that,” he said. “But eventually it ended. The person and I wanted different things in life.”

Giovanni nodded, and Arseny thought he saw something in the Italian’s dark eyes. “You have a business in Moscow?”

“Not yet.” Arseny felt a bit ashamed at admitting that his father had transferred some of his business assets to him and to his sister before fleeing Moscow, and that he lived on that income rather than anything he did himself. “I am just out of university for one year.”

He looked at Giovanni. “You must have a doctorate degree for your job?”

Giovanni shook his head. “I am a low-level person. The kind they send out to dangerous places. I think the term from military in English is cannon fodder.”

Arseny didn’t know that term, and Giovanni explained it. “Do you ever watch the American Star Trek?” he asked.

“Oh, yes,” Arseny said with feeling. “Kirk and Spock!”

He was suddenly embarrassed, but Giovanni nodded. “Yes, Kirk and Spock. Very handsome men, good friends.”

Before Arseny could fully process that comment, Giovanni continued. “There is idea among fans of show. That on exploration of strange planet, characters wearing red shirts will be killed by aliens.”

They began to discuss favorite episodes of the show, and the similar Star Wars movies, and Arseny felt more and more drawn to the handsome Italian. Though it was foolish to assume anything, in a jail cell in a strange place where even the idea that a man could be sexually attracted to another man was grounds for imprisonment or death.

But Arseny couldn’t help wondering. Maybe that was why Giovanni had been arrested. Perhaps he had made an advance to another man, been revealed and taken into custody. Was that why the police had put them in this cell together?

Were they being watched for signs of romantic activity? Arseny gulped. All the more reason to watch himself.

Purchase links for The Same Page (Have Body, Will Guard Book 9)

Amazon: https://amzn.to/2CLyr9u

Books2Read: https://www.books2read.com/u/3nY16P

More About author, Neil Plakcy

Neil Plakcy

Neil Plakcy has written or edited over three dozen novels and short stories in mystery, romance and erotica. To research the Angus Green series, he participated in the FBI’s sixteen-week citizen’s academy, practiced at a shooting range, and visited numerous gay bars in Fort Lauderdale. (Seriously, it was research.)

He is an assistant professor of English at Broward College in South Florida, and has been a construction manager, a computer game producer, and a web developer – all experiences he uses in his fiction. His website is www.mahubooks.com.

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