I have been enjoying this series so much. Spiral takes us on a journey from hot drunken sex in chapter three to slow-burn, getting to know you dates for the next several chapters. Jamie and Craig both have rotten ex-boyfriends in their past. Craig’s really did a number on him by always tearing him down and belittling him. Jamie’s ex stole research material and claimed it for his own.

For the most part I thought this was a fairly low angst story. When the stalking by Craig’s ex heats up there are a few tense moments, though. I loved how much Jamie and Craig cared for each other. After a bit of a misunderstanding following their drunken sex episode, they realize how compatible they are and not just in the bedroom.

I loved that Jamie is British and we get to hear him use phrases and terms that reflect that. There’s also gentle teasing between all of the characters in this story (Oli and Jackson from Shield) regarding some of the food that Jamie likes. 😊

There’s a link to a free bonus story at the end of Spiral. It contains spoilers for Shield and Spiral so make sure you read those books first.

Reviews for RJ Scott

Reviews for V.L. Locey

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UNEDITED

We’d spoken only once before, an encounter that had started promisingly enough. He’d teased me about my accent, and in response, I had exaggerated my Britishness, rolling out my best King’s English, which had drawn a laugh from him and a playful declaration that I was “cute.” Flustered, I’d returned the compliment, called him cute, and for a second, he’d frowned, then it had cleared, and he blushed. Maybe it was being called cute? He wasn’t as big as some of the other players, so was it that I implied he was small? I recall getting flustered, but the conversation had quickly spiraled into academia—with what I thought was a light, flirty discussion about Fibonacci sequences. He’d seemed interested until suddenly, he wasn’t. His words had tangled, and he’d excused himself abruptly, leaving me bewildered and a bit concerned that I’d crossed a line I hadn’t seen.

Now, watching him at the party, the ease with which he interacted with others made our previous encounter all the more confusing. Did he really think I wasn’t cute after all? The thought nagged at me, a persistent whisper amidst the clinks of glasses and bursts of laughter.

I tried to shake off the feeling, focusing instead on the guests, explaining that jam went on the scone first and no clotted cream wasn’t a dipping sauce and needed to be spread, but my gaze was drawn repeatedly to Craig’s form as he moved through the room. There was an effortless grace to his movements, a visual poetry that clashed with the apparent distance he placed between us. He was in the corner with Scarlett and a couple of the wives here, touching his toes, everyone laughing as they copied his movements. He was so… bendy… and when he went into the splits, I nearly choked on a slice of cucumber.

The things I could do to a man that flexible…

Why he seemed to avoid me now, after what had seemed like a connection, was a puzzle, but after the first shot of whiskey, my edges smoothed, and with the second, I felt as if I might be able to talk to him. Hell, after the third and fourth, with him downing beer like it was water, I felt as if I could take on the world.

He was excusing himself and heading upstairs to the bathroom, laughing, joking, taking the stairs two at a time, and, bloody hell, I was after him like a dog on a bone. I found him at the top of the stairs, nowhere near the bathroom, but instead tucked into a small reading nook that the kids used, his head in one hand, a beer loose in the other. He was slumped, exhausted, and he hadn’t heard me there.

“Craig?” I asked, and he lifted his gaze slowly, all kinds of resigned.

“Jamie,” he said in reply.

I had a hundred things I wanted to ask him or tell him, but a whiskey brain is different from a normal brain, and I blurted the first thing I could think of.

“Why do you hate me?”

L.A. Storm Series

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