Night Squad 1 - Red Hunger Crystal Kauffman.pdf

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Red Hunger
Book one in the Night Squad series.
When the sexy trucker he‟s fantasized about turns out to be a CIA assassinand a
vampire whose team needs his help to bring down a drug dealer, bartender Vince West
lets go of inhibitions he‟s harbored too long and admits his sexuality, allowing himself
the freedom to share his bed with Jas. But in agreeing to help the Night Squad, Vince
gives up his dreams of returning to San Francisco. He knows he probably won‟t survive
the sting, whether it‟s the drug dealers who get him…or the vampires.
Jas Tudor and his team need Vince to lead them to a drug kingpin, but Jas‟ interest
in the handsome bartender with the ultra-sweet blood goes deeper. He lures Vince out
of his protective shell and enjoys taking him to unimaginable heights of pleasure, even
as Jas counts his regrets. His team is swift and destructive, and rarely leaves behind
survivors. If Vince doesn‟t end up as collateral damage, the vampires will mind-wipe
him when the operation concludes, destroying his memories of their magical time
together.
An Ellora‟s Cave Romantica Publication
Red Hunger
ISBN 9781419936647
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Red Hunger Copyright © 2011 Crystal Kauffman
Edited by Grace Bradley
Cover design by Syneca
Electronic book publication November 2011
The terms Romantica® and Quickies® are registered trademarks of Ellora‟s Cave Publishing.
With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in
part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Ellora‟s Cave Publishing,
Inc.® 1056 Home Avenue, Akron OH 44310-3502.
Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of
this book may be scanned, uploaded or distributed via the Internet or any other means, electronic or
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without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and
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editions and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted material. Your
support of the author‟s rights is appreciated.
This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales
is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author‟s imagination and used fictitiously.
The publisher and author(s) acknowledge the trademark status and trademark ownership of all
trademarks, service marks and word marks mentioned in this book.
The publisher does not have any control over, and does not assume any responsibility for, author or
third-party Web sites or their content.
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R ED H UNGER
Crystal Kauffman
Crystal Kauffman
Chapter One
With the funeral only two days away, Vince West was finally free to plan his
departure from this hick town and return to San Francisco. For good this time. After
selling the house he‟d inherited and having saved his salary for the two years he lived
with his ailing mother, providing care as cancer whittled her away, he might have
enough to buy the San Francisco condo he‟d been dreaming about his entire life.
He‟d never wanted to come back to Podunkville. He hated this redneck town and
everyoneexcept his motherin it. Now she was gone, and there was nothing but her
upcoming funeral keeping him here. Thank God.
“Hey, Vinnie, how ‟bout another?”
Vince poured a Sam Adams and slid the glass down the pitted wooden bar.
He‟d left home at seventeen, two years after his mother married Rod Brogan, a
miserable son of a bitch who‟d developed an instant affinity for pounding on Vince on a
regular basis. The old bastard always eyed him with a scowl that seemed to cut right
through him, as if he could see through the façade Vince put up to the world and knew
he was a closeted queer. Probably the only reason Rod didn‟t call him on it was he was
mortified about having a gay kid in the house, even if Vince wasn‟t his.
He sensed a new customer slide up to the bar and headed that way. He gave his
standard “what‟ll ya have” while mostly avoiding eye contact.
“What do you have on tap?”
The newcomer‟s deep baritone jerked him back to the here and now, resonating
over every nerve ending. The man had been in here before, part of the trucker crowd
that stopped occasionally on their cross-country hauls. Vince didn‟t know his name, but
he knew the man was dangerous.
Everyone here was dangerous. If the regulars who frequented this bar knew he was
gay, they‟d beat the shit out of each other for first rights to beat the shit out of him. He
presented the same disinterest to all his customersrednecks, gangbangers and
truckers alike. Vince was the world‟s greatest invisible bartender.
“Amstel, Heineken, Budweiser and Sierra Nevada.” He unloaded a tray of clean
mugs as he listed them, careful to make no more than fleeting eye contact.
The trucker was fucking hot, and had an effortless power to unnerve him. Vince
vividly remembered each one of his three previous visits to Rowdy‟s. There was
something in the way the guy looked at him that had purpose, intensity. Vince knew he
was imagining whatever he saw in those looks, but had lain awake nights thinking
about the guy after those previous stops. Now those fantasies were flashing in his head
like neon banners.
5

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