RELEASE TOUR: Dream a Little Dream by C.F. White (Excerpt)

RELEASE TOUR – Dream a Little Dream by C F White

Aaron Jones was a spark in the dark. Beautiful. Dangerous. Capable of destruction. Kenny should have run. Instead, he lit the match.

Length: 375 pages
Series: To Love a Psycho Book 1
Prior Reading: n/a
Genre: MM Contemporary Romantic Suspense Thriller 
Tropes: Forbidden Romance & Power Imbalance, Professor/Student, Age Gap, Ethical Dilemma, Dark and twisted romance, Fatal attraction, Slow burn with explosive tension, Hurt/Comfort and emotional wounds, Mystery, suspense, danger
Trigger/Content Warnings: Murder, discussions of serial killers, mentions of past abuse, mentions of rape and murder

His student. His obsession. His undoing.

“Aaron Jones was a spark in the dark. Beautiful. Dangerous. Capable of destruction. Kenny should have run. Instead, he lit the match.”

Aaron Jones knows all about the darkness lurking beneath polished façades. His parents were infamous for it. Determined to keep everyone at arm’s length, especially those who dig too deep, his carefully built walls start to crumble when he encounters his new professor, renowned criminal psychologist, Dr Kenneth Lyons.

Kenny has always been drawn to the darkness. But nothing prepares him for Aaron, the haunted student who awakens something dangerous in his carefully controlled world. As the son of the most infamous serial killers, Aaron’s past is a minefield of trauma and secrets.

Aaron is a beautiful, complex, irresistible puzzle, and one Kenny’s desperate to solve. Sweeping aside every professional and moral boundary, he crosses the line towards a forbidden, all-consuming obsession, where every touch is a sin and every whispered confession could lead to ruin.

But as a killer emerges, leaving a trail of echoes from Aaron’s past, their fragile relationship is tested in ways neither could have expected. And when the next target is someone close to Kenny, the line between Aaron’s bleak heritage and his innocence blurs.

Who the real monster is will leave them questioning everything.

Especially each other.

Dream a Little Dream (To Love a Psycho Book 1)is the first book in a gripping new trilogy of obsession, psychological tension, and dark romance where nothing is as it seems. Perfect for fans of twisted mysteries, forbidden attraction, and heart-pounding suspense.

https://getbook.at/DreamTour

EXCERPT:

The throng moved, creating a line of sight to the bar, and the shark he’d snagged came back into view again. Sipping on whisky, leaning over the barrier, a smirk dancing on his face as though he’d watched that scene play out, and it amused him. So Aaron spiralled to face him, gym queen now lost at sea, and cocked his head.

Did he dare try? 

Dare play?

“You want this?” he mouthed, gesturing to his entire body.

The man sipped on his whisky.

Involuntarily—yeah, right—Aaron merged into a solitary sultry dance. The rest of the echelons rutting against him were merely his backing dancers. And the others coating the edge of the floor had pirated the show. Aaron rarely gave anyone the time of day, but it was his subconscious that had him gravitating toward the embodiment of dark eyes lost in plain sight. The man was almost painful to look at. Aaron had nursed himself happy in here many times. He knew the telltale signs of someone else doing the same. And, for a reason he only talked about in therapy, the man had him hard within seconds of him gazing at him as though he’d paid for his services. 

He should have taken the cash and run. 

Consciously. Unconsciously. Who knew? Aaron ended up right underneath him. A step and a barrier away. Sweat, musk, and sandalwood hung thick in the air, but it was the sharp tang of anticipation filling his gut. Taking a leave of his senses, Aaron couldn’t shake the conviction that what he was about to do wouldn’t kill him in the end. 

Curiosity killed the cat, didn’t it? 

And he had sharper claws.

With a boldness foreign yet somehow predestined, Aaron reached out, brushing his fingers against the man’s clutching the glass of whisky. An electric charge crackled. Like lightning. Thunder. A storm of memories flicking before him, masked by searing strobe lights. Tension swelled in his gut, about to burst, but Aaron curbed it by snatching the glass, tipping his head back and downing the lot.

It burned, spreading fire into his throat, his chest, his cock.

Recollection rung hard in the man’s dark eyes. Aaron could feel it written in the lines of his face, in the set of his shoulders, in the unwavering scrutiny and their exchange became a standoff without words, a duel where the prize was knowledge, and the weapon would be who asked first.

Whisky drained, Aaron held the glass above his head, swaying to the pulsating rhythm, giving the man a show. The man took the glass from him, discarded it, then watched.

Brazen.

Then, slowly, Aaron lifted his gaze. Game over. He parted his lips, and the question slipped out like a dare: “What’s your name?”

He already knew the answer, of course. Had known it for years. Every syllable carved deep into the recesses of his mind. He wasn’t asking for confirmation, though. This was about seeing if the man knew him. If he recognised the ghost dancing for him.

Man pushed away from the railing and disappeared within a sea of bodies. 

Aaron’s gaze followed him like his mesmerised prey, left wondering why the beast had set him free, now desperate to add Stockholm syndrome to his list of diagnoses. See, rejection did sting. Maybe he’d figure out why that was later. Maybe this bloke would help him with that. But his congenital hedonism had him squirming beneath the metal railing, leaping up to the bar level and squeezing through the throng, sliding away from the potential of a healthy courtship with those grappling for him to stay dancing, to follow a man so far out of his comfort zone, he might as well have been a woman. 

He wasn’t, though. 

Aaron discovered that after all of five minutes.

about the author:

CF White writes gritty British based stories about imperfect men falling in love against the odds and has been accused of sprinkling a bit of humour into them from time to time too. Because what’s life without sprinkles?

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