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Vincent
Vincent
Vincent
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Vincent

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ONLY THE STRONG

When he moved to Brighton, novelist Tristan Michaels was thrilled to leave his past behind. Trauma and danger had shattered his world and almost ruined his life. When everything finally seems to be settling down, he becomes embroiled in his best friend’s drama, which leads to more danger and...Vincent. And while love at first sight had been the stuff of Tristan’s books, when he meets Vincent fantasy became reality.

SURVIVE

Vincent Greyson has spent his life fighting for what’s right, first as a Navy Seal, and now as a member of the elite team known as the Sentinels. When he meets Tristan Michaels, Vincent knows his heart will always belong to this magnetic, special man. But love and patience is tested when horrible fates keep befalling Tristan, and Vincent vows that he’d do anything for his love, even leave the Sentinels.

LanguageEnglish
Release dateJul 17, 2018
ISBN9781948029308
Vincent
Author

M Tasia

Michelle M. Tasia is a paralegal and romance author who lives in Ontario, Canada. She is a proud member of the Romance Writers of America and its chapters; the Rainbow Romance Writers and the Toronto Romance Writers. Michelle is a dedicated people watcher who often uses what she sees around her in the creation of her characters. She likes to read romance as much as write it and is a firm believer that love is meant to be celebrated and shared. She is the author of the Boys of Brighton series and the new series Gates of Heaven. Connect with Michelle: website: mtasiabooks.com facebook: mtasiabooks twitter: mtasiaauthor instagram: m.tasia.author

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Rating: 4.21428575 out of 5 stars
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  • Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
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    I am so enjoying reading each and every book in this series.M.Tasia you totally rock as an author,Thank you.

Book preview

Vincent - M Tasia

Vincent

The Boys of Brighton – Book 8

M. Tasia

ALSO BY M. TASIA

The Boys of Brighton series

Gabe

Sam’s Soldiers

Rick’s Bear

Jesse

Coop

Travis

Grady

EVERYONE LOVES THE BOYS OF BRIGHTON

"I loved this book and I love this town. I hope there’s going to be more."

—Melissa Lemons on Gabe

"An amazing read that was filled with lust, love, crazy hot sex, danger, action and so much more. This is the first book I have read in this series, but I will definitely be reading more in the future."

—Gay Book Reviews on Sam’s Soldiers

"I was crazy impressed that the author made me teary over the ending of a relationship that I shouldn’t have even been invested in. I didn’t yet know these characters yet the author made me hurt for them. That takes some mad writing skills!"

—Love Bytes Reviews

"Jesse and Royce together have my heart. Jesse has it all by himself."

— The Book Junkie Reads on Jesse

"So much action, intrigue, drama and angst for the long awaited story of Grady and Ben. This was worth the wait. Sexy and sweet. I can't wait for the next."

—SamD on Grady

Welcome back to Brighton, Texas. Where any man can find home.

ONLY THE STRONG

When he moved to Brighton, novelist Tristan Michaels was thrilled to leave his past behind. Trauma and danger had shattered his world and almost ruined his life. When everything finally seems to be settling down, he becomes embroiled in his best friend’s drama, which leads to more danger and…Vincent. And while love at first sight had been the stuff of Tristan’s books, when he meets Vincent fantasy became reality.

SURVIVE

Vincent Greyson has spent his life fighting for what’s right, first as a Navy Seal, and now as a member of the elite team known as the Sentinels. When he meets Tristan Michaels, Vincent knows his heart will always belong to this magnetic, special man. But love and patience is tested when horrible fates keep befalling Tristan, and Vincent vows that he’d do anything for his love, even leave the Sentinels.

www.BOROUGHSPUBLISHINGGROUP.com

PUBLISHER’S NOTE: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, business establishments or persons, living or dead, is coincidental. Boroughs Publishing Group does not have any control over and does not assume responsibility for author or third-party websites, blogs or critiques or their content.

VINCENT

Copyright © 2018 M. Tasia

Smashwords Edition

All rights reserved. Unless specifically noted, no part of this publication may be reproduced, scanned, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of Boroughs Publishing Group. The scanning, uploading and distribution of this book via the Internet or by any other means without the permission of Boroughs Publishing Group is illegal and punishable by law. Participation in the piracy of copyrighted materials violates the author’s rights.

ISBN 978-1-948029-30-8

E-book formatting by Maureen Cutajar

www.gopublished.com

This has been possible because of the love and support of my family.

Love you Craig, Samantha, Katie and Jason.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Special thank yous to Miachelle Ferguson, Elizabeth Levander, Bella Noelle, and Ashley Slussar.

You girls are the best and always have my back.

CONTENTS

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

About the Author

VINCENT

Chapter One

Nizhóní (Navajo) – Beautiful. Something that’s attractive. It also refers to something that is good. The Navajo idea of beauty goes beyond appearances. Beauty is a sense of being, and is comprised of harmony and balance that is felt within.

The cold mist bit and swirled, surrounding him in its steely grip. He felt the spirits joining him one by one until there could be no mistake. The cry of an eagle pierced the air followed by the yip of a coyote. One the messenger, the other the trickster, a troublemaker, and not what he needed at that moment. Then he heard the one he’d been searching for. The happy chirps were unmistakable: his sparrow.

Vincent pushed forward using all his strength but only managed to move a few inches. He had to get to his sparrow before it was too late. But he already knew all was lost. He felt the blade pierce his palm seconds before the shrill cry of his sparrow ripped him through his heart. Then silence. He knew what was coming next, it always did, and he was powerless to stop it.

The mist started to clear and he felt the weight of the knife with his uninjured hand yet again and couldn’t stop himself from looking down. The wound continued to bleed, dripping life-giving blood down his fingers and onto the ground. In his other hand, he held a knife stained in his own blood and that of another. He wanted to throw the blade far away but his hand wouldn’t respond to his commands.

What came next he’d repeatedly begged the spirits and creator to take from his view, but they never heard his prayers or had simply chosen to ignore them. Vincent’s sparrow lay lifeless on the ground a few feet in front of him, his chest cut open and his heart missing. He wanted to scream and shout at the wind for the injustice of it all, for the life lost and the future withheld from him.

The wind released its hold and Vincent collapsed onto the ground beside his sparrow. He lifted the blade, brought it to his chest, readying to stop his own beating heart. His muscles bunched, preparing to plunge the knife deep, the tip of the blade slicing through his skin from its own weight.

Vincent took a deep breath and in the softest of whispers spoke his sparrow’s name before plunging the sharpened steel deep…Tristan.

*****

Tristan bolted upright in bed, his heart racing as a storm raged outside his window, his hand clutching the silver medallion hanging from his neck. He looked around his room and found no one, but he was positive he’d heard his name being called. The rain pelted the windows in what felt and sounded like anger as he ran his hands through his hair. The apartment was dark so he turned on the light on the side table. He looked at his watch and realized it was only three in the morning. Damn.

He’d been burning the candle at both ends recently with his latest book’s deadline looming ever closer while completing his move from Dallas to Brighton at the same time. He had one more trip back and then the new owners could take possession of his old condominium. Tristan had decided to take over his best friend’s apartment in Brighton. Grady had moved in with his boyfriend, Ben, leaving almost everything in the two-bedroom apartment for Tristan’s use.

He’d been busy adding his touches and blending his furniture in with what was already here, like the hot pink loveseat by the bank of windows at the back of the apartment. The front bay window held his desk where he wrote his romance novels and looked out onto the Main Street of Brighton below.

Tristan pulled on his bright blue track pants and white t-shirt, before making his way to the kitchen. He was about to make himself a cup of tea when someone began banging on his door. His heart froze in his chest; the first thought that ran threw his mind was his ex had found him and was out for blood. But Tristan hadn’t seen Stavros in months.

Again, his hand found the silver and turquois bird charm at his neck for comfort. He pushed the terrifying thoughts from his mind and walked to the door as any rational person would. Stavros wasn’t going to affect his new life in Brighton; Tristan refused to allow it. Glancing through the peephole brought his heart to full speed in an instant. Vincent.

His fingers couldn’t move fast enough to turn the locks on the door. He had to take a deep breath to calm himself and then tried again. Tristan had always hated how easily he became flustered and often hid it behind an easy smile and misdirection. Carefully, he undid the locks and opened the door to the man who fulfilled every dream Tristan had ever had.

From his long black hair and bronze skin to his light blue eyes, he was a proud Navajo male—stunning and the center of Tristan’s attention since they had first met. He couldn’t explain the attraction. Whatever the pull, it seemed natural. Even though their first encounter was during a stalking investigation, the moment Tristan’s eyes met Vincent’s Tristan couldn’t look away. Tristan felt as if a part of him recognized the stunning man. The best way Tristan could describe it: that feeling when he’d been away for a long time and he walked through the door of apartment, dropped his bags, and melted into his favorite chair. Every part of him knew he was where he was meant to be—home.

Tristan waited for Vincent to come in but he remained standing on the small piece of wood that was called the back porch. Water dripped from his chiseled face and Tristan imagined following the drops with his tongue.

Vincent, you’re soaked. Come in, Tristan directed as he tried to rein in his wayward thoughts.

I know it’s late, or early depending on the way you look at it. I don’t want to keep you up but I saw your light was on and thought maybe….

"Come in. I was already awake, nizhóní." He’d been learning a few words in Navajo out of respect for Vincent’s culture.

Vincent stepped in; his initial look of pleasure at hearing the endearment was clouded with concern. Are you sick?

No, no. It’s…you’ll think I’m crazy, but I thought I heard my name being called about a half hour ago. It must have been a dream. Tristan shook his head, trying to rid himself of the memory. Would you like some tea?

Vincent looked distracted for a moment before taking off his leather jacket and hanging it on the back of one of the kitchen chairs. His hair was pulled back in a large braid that ran partway down his broad back.

Before Tristan knew what was happening he found himself in the big man’s arms. Can we sit down on the couch for a little while, sparrow? Vincent asked.

Sure. Is something wrong? Tristan found himself being carried across the room as his answer. The nickname never ceased to thrill Tristan and made him feel important to his boyfriend.

Once they sat with him still in Vincent’s arms, Tristan tried again. He placed both of his hands on either side of his gorgeous man’s face and asked, What’s going on? Why were you out at this hour? When he noticed hesitation, Tristan added, Are you my new stalker? Because if you are I’ll leave the door unlocked.

Vincent smiled as Tristan had hoped. Typically, Vincent was the quiet one in any group, surpassed only by Shadow, who was near invisible. But when Vincent spoke, people listened. Anyone who thought he wasn’t paying attention or could be ignored was sorely mistaken. Not only was he a retired Navy Seal, but a master of many disciplines of martial arts; he never missed a thing that was happening around him. Unfortunately, that meant Tristan couldn’t get away with anything as long as Vincent was around.

Vincent lifted Tristan’s turquoise and silver sparrow medallion between his fingers and rubbed it gently. He had given it to Tristan while they were holed up in the Masons’ cottage trying to protect Ben and Grady from a lunatic who turned out to be Grady’s own father. That familiar feeling of panic from that horrible day came rushing back. Tristan had killed a man that day.

Of course, Vincent didn’t miss it. What’s wrong?

I was thinking about when you gave this to me and what I did. Tristan still couldn’t say the word killed aloud.

You had to shoot Ryan or he was going to kill you. You had no other choice. He was as psychotic as Grady’s father. You have nothing to feel sorry about. I’m proud of you for protecting yourself, Vincent assured as he held Tristan a bit tighter.

He wished he could accept what Vincent said as true, but the guilt remained and silently he fought daily to keep it at bay, leaving no one the wiser. If anyone knew the extent of his turmoil and guilt, they’d worry, so he kept his emotions and the havoc they wrought to himself. After all, it had been more than a month since the incident; he should be getting over it by now, right?

Tristan nodded his understanding and leaned his head back against Vincent’s wide chest. You still haven’t told me why you’re out in this storm at three in the morning.

Vincent grunted something before laying his head against the top of Tristan’s. He loved the fact that

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