HoHo Honeybun // Homicidal Holiday — Sam Cheever

The Honeybun Fever romantic suspense series offers readers heart pounding mystery and suspense with action, adventure, murder, mayhem, and sizzling interracial romance!



Dolfe Honeybun broke up with Blaise Runa because her party girl ways were driving him to distraction. Unfortunately, out of sight does NOT mean out of mind. And when his favorite party girl sees something she shouldn't and finds herself being chased by a cold blooded killer… reason shuts down and Dolfe's heart takes over. If only he can get to her in time!

***

I like big butts and I cannot lie…

Dolfe's head jerked off the pillow, groggy from an unusually deep sleep. His heart pounded as he reached over and shut off the phone. Cursing Blaise. The ringtone had been her idea. She'd told him, grinning, that it would remind him of her every time it rang. Dolfe silently berated himself for not changing it to something mature and soothing.

She'd been right. The tone did remind him of her…of the lush firmness of her perfect backside…the velvet feel of her skin…the sensual tang of her delicious scent.

God knew he didn't need any more reminders of Blaise. Her essence was infused in every fabric in his home. Her presence saturated every cell of his existence. A battered paperback behind the sofa cushions…a bottle of siren red nail polish shoved to the back of his medicine cabinet.

She was everywhere.

Dolfe had thought breaking up with her would be enough to exorcise her from his life.

What an idiot he'd been.

He opened his eyes and squinted at the clock. Three flippin' AM. He groaned, flopping back to the pillow and closed his eyes, determined to ignore whoever the asswipe was who thought it was a good idea to call him in the middle of the night.

For a brief, enticing moment he thought he might be able to do it. Go back to sleep. His muscles softened…his thoughts clouded… He took a deep breath, expelling it softly…

I like big butts and I cannot lie…

Dolfe growled his frustration and grabbed the cell, stabbing at the button to answer it. “This better be f***ing good.”

Silence met his growled, less than friendly greeting.

No. That wasn't completely right. If he listened carefully he could hear breathing, soft and staccato. “Who's there?”

A tiny squeak. Panic swirled through Dolfe. “Blaise? Is that you? I'm sorry, honey. You woke me up. What's wrong?” He didn't know how he knew it was her. He just did, in that instinctive, age-old way of lovers who'd been, even for a short time, totally in tune with each other.

“He killed her.”

The simple statement, thick with tears, ripped through whatever grogginess Dolfe might still be feeling and tore him from the bed. He was reaching for his jeans even as he spoke again. “Who killed who, honey. Tell me you're all right. Let's start with that. I need to know right now that you're okay.”

She pulled air into her lungs in a shaky breath. “I'm okay. But…” Another squeak, “He saw me, Dolfe. He's coming after me.”

Dolfe scrubbed a hand over his face. “Shit. Okay, honey, listen to me. Get someplace public. A busy restaurant or something. Sit down at a table facing the door and wait for me. Watch for me. I can be there in minutes. Just tell me where you are.”

A soft sob, the sound of the phone dropping, crashing against something.

Dolfe's guts heaved into his throat. “Blaise!”

No response. The sound of sirens in the distance sent Dolfe's nerves higher. “Blaise! Talk to me, honey!”

Nothing.