An Inner Darkness Book 5 Bay City paranormal

the darkness, focused on something else, something that wasn’t Calvin. “I see things that aren’t human. Demons. Almost every time I get in a crowd of more than a handful of people. Like yesterday.” Calvin shook his head. “I don’t believe in demons.”
    “No, of course you don’t.” The eyes that swiveled back to meet his were soft and sad. “You’re an artist. You see shapes. Forms. Color. You believe in beauty, not the blackness that walks among us. You’re lucky that way.”
    “You make your own luck.”
“Really? You don’t think what you have is a gift?”
“That doesn’t have anything to do with luck.”
    “But it does. How many people do you think see the world the way you do? You look around, and you see your own art.” A smile haunted his mouth. “I’d bet you even look at me and don’t see what’s real.”

    Calvin swallowed against the tightness of his throat. That sense of being transparent Matthew had evoked at the diner was back. Added to the flush of desire that refused to go away, it left him struggling to maintain his composure.

    “Can you even imagine something not nearly as pleasant?” Matthew continued.
    “What if you saw evil coalesce into something tangible, something that looked real but wasn’t? Something that wore a human face but fed on our grief until it destroyed everything it touched. Hatred. Death. The destruction of everything good and decent about the world we walk in. When I talk about monsters, about evil, that’s what I mean.
    Demons.” He sucked in a deep breath. “You might see a blank canvas, waiting for you to fill it, but that’s what I see, every single day.” He spoke with the low, fervent passion of a believer. Calvin had heard many such speeches from others, though the topic might vary. Two days earlier, he would have walked away from the crazy and not looked back.

    He still should. Because crazy had a way of infecting when you least expected it to.

    Two days ago, he’d been a different man. He hadn’t been touched by this murder/not a murder. He hadn’t yet watched his father get lowered into the ground. He hadn’t stared into eyes that looked like they’d witnessed hell itself.
    Hell itself. Demons. Walking among us.
A man who didn’t see shapes and forms and colors that might not be there wouldn’t believe him.
This man wasn’t sure that he did anyway.
But he wanted to.
Revenge can’t heal a wounded soul.
Untamed Heart
© 2008 Ally Blue
    When Leon Fisher finds his lover butchered in their bed, he does what any good assassin would do—he gets revenge. But killing the murderer doesn’t make the pain go away. Instead, it sends him on a vicious downward spiral into alcoholism and depression.
    In a bid to force Leon to sober up and regain his edge, his mysterious employers—
known only as “the organization”—send him to a private property in the wilds of Alaska.
    In the lush and remote Tongass National Forest, Leon encounters Grim, a strange but alluring young man who saves Leon’s life after a bear attack, then brings him to a cabin in the depths of the woods to recover.

    Leon doesn’t expect to fall in love with this odd, subservient person, yet he can’t deny what he comes to feel for Grim. But Grim has a past he doesn’t talk about. A past just as dark and ugly as Leon’s. And both pasts are about to catch up with them.

    Warning, this title contains the following: explicit male/male sex, graphic language, intense violence, drug and alcohol use, and references to past abusive situations.
    Enjoy the following excerpt for Untamed Heart: That evening, easing his aching body gingerly onto the bed, Leon decided he’d been severely underestimating Grim all this time. He’d watched Grim clean and gut fish, skin and dress rabbits, birds and deer, but he’d never appreciated what hard work it was. He’d assumed the whole thing was as easy as Grim made it look.
    It wasn’t. Raw flesh, Leon quickly discovered, was tough, and the ligaments and tendons holding the joints together even tougher. Grim’s knives and cleavers were hefty and well-honed, so sharp that when Leon accidentally cut himself, he didn’t even feel it, but it had still taken him a considerable amount of effort to separate the deer’s legs from its body. He hadn’t dared to help Grim skin the carcass after that. His injured shoulder
    had begun to ache, and his arms felt weak. He was afraid that if he tried to skin the animal, the knife would