Good Boys, The Solomon Series, Book One
Paul Solomon is a homicide detective in Baltimore, a city with a high murder rate and a complicated relationship between the police and the citizens they are sworn to protect.
He’s also a gay man who has been out on the job since he first joined. Being out on a tough police force hasn’t always been easy, but living with integrity is important to him.
Paul’s love life becomes as tumultuous as his job with the demise of his relationship of eight years. While dealing with the emotional and physical upheaval in his personal life, a case comes across his desk that hits a little too close to home—the murder of two gay teenagers.
Paul and his partner, Tim Cullen, must solve the double homicide, and Paul has to find a way to move on from his failed relationship.
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BEFORE HE EVEN opened his eyes, Paul knew something was wrong. He could feel the heat of the morning sun on his face in a way that never happened in his west-facing bedroom, but for a few seconds he couldn’t figure out why it was wrong. The bed felt familiar enough, and smelled familiar too.
He sat up slowly, rubbing his face and pressing the heels of his hands into his forehead as if that might somehow hold back the monster headache he felt pushing its way into the backs of his eyes. His stomach lurched as he carefully swung his feet onto the floor, and he lowered his head into his hands until it passed. He made his way to the bathroom, at one point losing his balance slightly and bumping into the wall.
In the shower, he leaned up against the slick tiles and angled the showerhead so he could let it run over him. He tried closing his eyes, but little pinpricks of light blossomed behind his lids. He started to feel dizzy, so he opened them again. Bits and pieces of the night before began to creep into his consciousness, and he sincerely wished he could block them out for a little while longer. No such luck. The stack of flattened boxes in the entranceway when he’d gotten home the day before—and the look on Andy’s face as he told him he needed to move out—had started the whole thing. They’d fought. There were tears, followed by wine and then scotch. Paul was pretty sure that what happened next wouldn’t surprise a single goddamn person in the entire world. The worst part was that it wasn’t the first time it had happened, and he’d been no less regretful either of the other times. One would think he’d learn his lesson eventually.
Paul stayed in the shower until the hot water was gone, swallowed three Advil, and looked at himself in the mirror. At thirty-eight he still had his dark curls, but his beard was starting to come in gray where he used to have some copper strands. Today he felt like he could see the future in his face. He looked ten years older this morning, at a minimum. He picked up his razor and shaved carefully, still managing to nick himself on his jawline with his unsteady hand.
Oh well, maybe I’ll actually look like a real cop today. Too bad I don’t have any short-sleeved dress shirts.
About the author
KEELAN ELLIS is an east coast girl for life, a progressive, a lover of music and musicians, a mother of two very challenging girls, a loyal though sometimes thoughtless friend, a slacker, a dreamer and a bad influence. She likes true crime podcasts, great television and expensive craft cocktails made by hipsters in silly vests.
KEELAN ELLIS can be found at: