Title: Job Hunt
Author Name: Jackie Keswick
Publication Date & Length: May 13, 2015 – 301 pgs
You don’t greet your new boss dressed like an underage rent boy. But when Jack Horwood—ace hacker and ex-MI6 operative—opens the door to Gareth Flynn, he’s too busy to worry over details like that. And anyway, his potential new boss is his former Commanding Officer – the same guy Jack has had a crush on since he was seventeen. So he should understand, right?
When he applied for the job in Nancarrow Mining’s corporate security division, Jack had hoped for peaceful days repelling cyber attacks. Maybe a bit of corporate espionage on the side. His plans didn’t include rescuing abused children, hunting pimps, or dealing with his overly protective and hot-as-hell boss, Gareth Flynn.
Walking away is not an option. Jack never takes the easy way out. More than that, meeting Gareth raises old ghosts that Jack needs to put to rest. Rescuing kids. Taking risks. Saving the day. Jack can do all that – but deciding what to do about his attraction to Gareth isn’t the sort of cloak-and-dagger game Jack plays well. Yet Gareth, strong and smart and always on hand when needed, might be Jack’s salvation.
There is a little romance here, but this is ultimately a thriller. Jack is both an expert hacker and an experienced under-cover agent. His need to free the captive boys is personal and Jack has never played by the rules.
With two brilliant leads and a host of well developed secondary characters, this has to be the first book in a compelling series. I’m eagerly awaiting the next one.
In the end, even though Jack is crazy, he is controlled and I know that makes him all that much more dangerous.
This was a story where I never knew what was going to happen and I really enjoyed that. I am someone who loves to tease out the mystery in a story and this one kept me guessing.
Readers should be warned that while this does not end in a true cliff hanger, it does lead the reader to know that more of the story is to come. So, I will wait patiently for the next installment.
Streetlights glowed through the thin mist like orange Christmas baubles strung up early, giving the
quiet Richmond cul-de-sac an almost Victorian feel—if one ignored the cars lining curbs and
driveways, that was.
Jack parked his Gixxer beside Gareth’s Triumph, blew warm breath on his freezing fingers, and
berated himself for forgetting his gloves. He was relieved to find that Gareth was home, as if, at the
very back of his mind, he’d expected the man to stand him up.
The porch light was on, and the enticing aromas of spices and roasting meat hung around the front
door. It didn’t smell like anything he could identify, and as Jack leaned on the bell, he wondered
about the extent of Gareth’s culinary skills.
While they’d served together, Gareth had mastered the art of one-pot cooking for a crowd, using
whatever ingredients came his way. He’d had a well-deserved reputation, and their fire had always
been good for tasty, filling stews and the very best curries. Jack also recalled large pans of softly
scrambled eggs and even pancakes on the odd day when eggs, flour, and milk happened to coincide
with time to cook breakfast.
Whatever Gareth was cooking tonight smelled homely and inviting, yet at the same time richer than
the food Gareth’s mother had cooked during the week Jack had been staying with her and the boys.
More… decadent, somehow, and Jack’s stomach growled in happy anticipation.
“I almost thought you weren’t coming.”
“Yeah, I can smell that you thought that.” The smile on Gareth’s face started butterflies in Jack’s gut.
He managed a smile of his own, held out the wine he’d brought, and then bent to take off his
motorcycle boots. “What is this, anyway?”
Jack looked up into amber eyes and considered. Gareth didn’t seem to be pulling his leg. And
technically goose was very much like duck or chicken, so why shouldn’t it be edible?
“You said you didn’t have any preferences, and I felt like it. It’s a grown-up thing, sort of.” Gareth
sounded almost apologetic as he set the wine on the shoe cupboard and turned to lock the door.
“You don’t have a problem with eating goose, do you?”
“I’ll tell you after dinner,” Jack said. He set his boots down and shrugged out of his jacket, hanging it
beside Gareth’s. Freed from the restraints of damp leather, he wrapped his arms around Gareth’s
neck. “It smells damn nice. And I missed you.”
“In that order?” Gareth wasn’t slow returning the embrace. He nuzzled Jack’s shirt collar out of the
way to trace his lips along the strip of leather around Jack’s throat.
“Maybe not,” Jack allowed, tilting his head to give Gareth’s lips more space to explore. The warmth
and soft light, the scents of cooking, Gareth’s hands and mouth on him, even the shivers running up
his spine, all made Jack feel as if he was coming home—until a sudden alarm sent his hand flashing
for a weapon.
“Dinner’s ready.” Gareth’s warm breath against Jack’s neck comforted and soothed, and he was
unfazed by Jack’s grab for the knife. “Good timing.” He dropped a brief kiss on Jack’s forehead and
headed toward the kitchen. “Bring the wine?”
“My timing’s crap,” Jack groused, shoving the knife back into its sheath and picking up the bottles.
He’d been hungry when he arrived, but now his body didn’t want goose. It wanted Gareth. And it
was anyone’s guess when he was going to get that.
Jackie Keswick was born behind the Iron Curtain with itchy feet, a bent for rocks and a recurrent dream of stepping off a bus in the middle of nowhere to go home. She’s worked in a hospital and as the only girl with 52 men on an oil rig, spent a winter in Moscow and a summer in Iceland and finally settled in the country of her dreams with her dream team: a husband, a cat, a tandem, a hammer and a laptop.
Jackie loves stories about unexpected reunions and second chances, and men who don’t follow the rules when those rules are stupid. She has a thing for green eyes and tight cyclist’s butts and is a great believer in making up soundtracks for everything, including her characters and the cat.
And she still hasn’t found the place where the bus stops.