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eBook Category: Erotica/Gay-Lesbian Erotica/Romance
eBook Description: Private Eye DB and his ghost partner Jesse from Eye Spy are back, and Jesse is dealing with Gwen, the ghost of a little girl. The problem with dealing with ghosts is that they can't pay, and that they make the police a little crazy. So when DB's new informant, the medium Yanya has a fit about the cops, and DB and Jesse's love life, DB knows this case is going to be nothing but trouble. DB and Jesse have their own problems to deal with, but they also have to figure out who killed Gwen, and try to keep the killer from harming anyone else. Can they solve the case and try to find a way for a man and a ghost to have a life together?

eBook Publisher: Torquere Press, Published: www.torquerepress.com, 2008
Fictionwise Release Date: July 2008

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CB Potts, author of the Rockhound series, writes: "Jesse and his lover DB have a little problem. You see, Jesse's not quite the man he used to be. One spiked drink, and he stepped off of this mortal coil. Jesse's a ghost, which puts a little crimp into their relationship. You see, DB can see Jesse. He can talk to Jesse--and oh, the conversations these two have! But he can't touch Jesse, and Jesse can't touch him. That's not even the big problem. Nope. The big problem is Gwen, another ghost who presents the crime solving pair with a mystery they absolutely have to solve, sooner rather than later--before more little girls join the ranks of ghosts. Drew Zachary has penned a heart-wrenching, gut-twisting, emotional suspenseful tale that will keep you on the edge of your seat. This isn't easy reading in parts: Zachary's story draws you in so quickly and so completely that you forget that Jesse and DB and Gwen aren't real people. Every triumph they make--solving the case, strengthening the relationship--will make you cheer. Every setback they encounter, and there are plenty, will make your heart plummet. This is a story you can believe in--and one that will leave you haunted for days to come. Strongly recommended, especially if you're fond of the emotional roller coaster Zachary can deliver like almost no one else. Don't miss With My Little Eye."

Jesse didn't go for a walk very often. There wasn't any point, really, as he didn't have to actually walk to get anywhere and he didn't need the exercise. He'd been smart enough to die when he was at a good weight and there he was, forever lean with a decent set of abs and a nice ass. DB told him it was a nice ass, and Jesse chose to believe it.

Of course, being a ghost had drawbacks that weren't even close to being offset by being forever young and kind of pretty. He couldn't do anything fun, for one. No eating, no drinking, no smoking, and, God, but he missed smoking. Then there was the whole other set of issues--so far no one but DB could hear or see him, and Jesse couldn't touch anything.

That part kind of threw a crimp in his sex life. Being in love with a living guy made that whole no touching thing a pain in the ... well, in everything.

So, that was why Jesse was taking a walk. He could think when he was out of the office and wasn't busy salivating over DB. They always started off having a rational discussion about things--a case, what was on TV, how to control the weird and rare times that Jesse could touch--but then one of them would either get mad or get hard and they'd wind up having their strange form of sex. It didn't matter if they were mad, usually. They were just that hot for it.

This time they'd been talking about how to take advantage of Jesse's ability to walk through walls and such to get information when they were on a case. Jesse was totally fine doing it, DB was happy to have him do it. But they'd run into trouble with using the information on occasion, since there were some things even private investigators shouldn't be able to find out.

It wasn't Jesse's fault that he could talk to other ghosts. And it wasn't the fault of the other ghosts that sometimes they saw things or heard things that they passed along to Jesse to tell DB. That DB couldn't get proof of those things or couldn't find a way to use the information was getting frustrating.

They'd been yelling back and forth about it and Jesse had just pointed out that the agency, Black Investigations, was getting a lot of business from the ghost world as well as the living world. DB had pointed out that ghosts didn't pay, and then Jesse had realized they were doing that thing where they were circling each other and yelling and they were about to turn it into foreplay--again. Which was fun and all, but Jesse really just wanted to think things out and maybe get rid of the headache he'd been carrying around for a day or so.

The park was nice. He'd just put himself there, between yelling at DB and letting DB yell back. DB was going to be so pissed when he got back, but sometimes sex--their version of it, anyway--wasn't the answer.

Of course, Jesse had no idea what the answer was, and wasn't even sure what the question was most days. He walked through a tree by accident and forced himself to be normal and walk on the path for a while, his hands shoved into his pockets while he thought. When that didn't get him anywhere he headed to the duck pond. Maybe he could think there.

He heard her before he saw her, the soft, snuffling crying of a child who'd been at it for a while. She was sitting under a tree by the pond, curled up around herself, little brunette pony tails all tousled.

Jesse looked around for an adult, but no one seemed to be paying her any attention at all. When a squirrel took a shortcut up the tree through her shoulder, he knew she was one of his kind.

"Hey," he said, going over and looking down at her. "Honey?" God, he hoped she knew she was dead. It was awful when they didn't.

She went still and then looked up at him with big brown eyes. "Are you talking to me?"

"Yep." He crouched down next to her and waited to see if she'd offer up anything before he had to break the news to her.

"Nobody's talked to me for days!" She went to throw her arms around him, screaming when her arms went right through him.

Oh, crap.