At the age of sixteen, August Goodson developed a strange and mysterious power overnight: he can find people. Victims of murder, suicide, kidnapping, accidents, and rape; August can find them all, usually dead, but sometimes still alive. Nine years later finds August volunteering his services to the police. He's still smarting from the loss of his long-time love Dante, who cheated on him with his best friend, and harbors a deep crush on the incredibly handsome, and oh-so-straight, Detective Luke Williams. But there are bigger concerns on August's mind: a serial killer is loose in the city, one whose victims are a little too much like him for comfort. When August finds a living victim who may be one of the serial killer's, he's drawn even deeper into the case. Will he make it out alive, or will he soon be the one in need of finding?
Born and raised in the Midwest. Currently reside in the San Diego area. I produce gay romantic fiction within the genres of fantasy, sci fi, and supernatural. In my universe, there are no “coming out” stories. The intent is to create fun, action-filled, dramatic romance stories for those readers who’ve been longing to see such stories with two male leads.
Since The Finder is told entirely from August's first-person perspective, I wanted to play with the idea that he was an unreliable narrator. Not that he's unstable! We all view ourselves differently from the way others view us. I wanted to explore the idea that August's past had affected him in ways he didn't yet recognize. This is most noticeable whenever he interacts with people outside of the small circle of those he trusts. My aim was to help August resolve these issues during the course of the book, so that he comes out a better person in the end.
Cherry liked Paul’s friends just fine. She said I was the one who made things difficult with them, but I didn’t see it that way. I was from a whole different world than those people. They were all beautiful and successful and going places. They all owned their own homes, had high-paying jobs, fancy cars and clothes, and all the latest gadgets. I had none of these. I felt like a little kid compared to them. It grated on my nerves. It’s not like I need any of that stuff. I like my life. Obviously, I wouldn’t mind having a little extra money. But I get by and I enjoy myself, and I am content knowing that what I do helps people. While Paul’s friends were never openly condescending to me, I could sense it from them, just under the surface. They looked down on me. Sometimes I worried they would rub off on Cherry, make her start thinking I wasn’t good enough to be her friend.