Author: M.J. O’Shea
Publisher: Dreamspinner Press
Cover Artist: L.C. Chase
Length: 200 Pages
Release Date: 27th April, 2015
Blurb: Corbin Ford, aka the Nightwatchman, named for the antique pocket watches he leaves behind at jobs, has been in the cat-burgling business for years. His father was. His grandfather was. His mother is still one of the most renowned thieves. Corbin likes his high-profile heists, priceless paintings from private collections, artifacts from museums, but his favorite? Jewels. Sparkly, beautiful jewels. If they’re famous, better yet.
Interpol agent Luke Eldridge has one goal and one goal only: to catch the Nightwatchman. Luke’s been after him for months, but getting the slip time and again is getting embarrassing. Luke has never even laid eyes on the bastard, but he’d happily strangle him. And then arrest him.
When Luke meets Corbin, the man of his dreams, he falls hard and fast… only to catch Corbin red-handed with his hand in a jewelry case at the scene of the highest-profile murder that’s rocked the international world in years.
He always felt like a spider, scuttling through the underbelly of the city, unseen until he was nearly gone, an oily black streak in the corner of people’s vision.
Corbin Ford had had a long life of skating along unnoticed by most. It should’ve been something that bothered him. It would bother most people. But he liked it. Liked that the woman who might smile condescendingly at him at the bank, then forget he ever existed, could be the same one he divested of everything of value hours later. It felt like an inside joke, one he never planned to share with anyone. He belonged on the outside looking in. He was comfortable there, had been for thirty-five years.
He was a shadow, and like one, he moved silently through the night.
A taxi drove past and sent a huge spray of water up. He managed to jump out of the way of the plume fast enough he barely got any on his coat. He’d paid enough for the damn thing. Sure, he could afford to replace it and buy ten more, but it didn’t mean he wanted to.
Corbin swore under his breath and moved closer to the buildings.
It was still damn cold for March. Damn cold period as far as he was concerned. He tightened his jacket against the bitter chill and wrapped his black scarf tighter around his neck. Black jacket, black scarf, dark jeans, and black shoes. He fit in in the city. Nobody would notice anything unusual about him.
He shouldn’t have been there, so close to the scene. It was stupid to watch the house swarm with police and agents, but he’d needed more satisfaction somehow. The clink of Lady Dalton’s emerald earrings and the thick, heavy ruby and diamond necklace weren’t enough for him anymore. He’d spent nearly an hour with the jewels earlier, trying to get the same feeling he used to get from a particularly good haul. He’d touched the gems and weighed them in his hand. Even when he’d put them away in a safe far better than the one he’d fished them out of, there was barely a spark. No heavy dark thrill. No excitement. The rest of her things weren’t worth more than a moment’s examination. He’d stolen them for the resale cash, not any particular pleasure. The emeralds were different. So was that necklace. At least it would’ve been in the past.
Corbin felt like he was broken.
In retrospect, that was probably why he’d done it. Why he’d left the watch and the poem for the authorities to find. Interpol was there; they had to be. He hadn’t seen them, but leaving his father’s old trademark was a sure bet to get them called. No more was Corbin “a rash of high-end burglaries.” No. He’d just become a singular and quite important someone. A thief who was supposedly long gone.
The little missing thrill, the one he’d tried desperately to get from cold jewels and heavy gold, wound its way up his back when he thought about the Interpol agents finding his little calling card. He smiled into the dark.
I’m Mj O’Shea:) I grew up, and still live, in sunny Washington state and while I love to visit other places, I can’t imagine calling anywhere else home.
I spent my childhood writing stories. Sometime in my early teens, the stories turned to romance. Most of those were about me, my friends, and our favorite movie and pop stars. Hopefully, I’ve come a long way since then.
When I’m not writing, I love to play the piano, dance, cook, paint pictures, and of course read! I like sparkly girly girl things, own at least twenty different colored headbands, and I have two little dogs who sit with me when I write. Sometimes they comes up with ideas for me too…when they’re not busy napping.
Amazon Author Page: http://www.amazon.com/M.J.-OShea/e/B003XERT7M/ref=sr_tc_2_0?qid=1427433101&sr=8-2-ent