Part of Series
** Warning: the following description contains heavy spoilers for the ending of Criminal Intentions: Season Two. ** Malcolm Khalaji is one paternity test away from a breakdown. When a one-night stand from a year ago shows up on his doorstep, she's bringing more than a trip down memory lane—and her little bundle of joy may just be a bundle of trouble if it turns out the baby is actually his. Especially when he and Seong-Jae are called back to active duty, partnering again with Internal Affairs on the murder of a fellow officer, caught on tape and seemingly cut and dried. But nothing is easy about this case, and what looks simple on the surface hides something deeper. Something that crosses Santiago Vasquez's path. And Vasquez isn't feeling too cooperative. Not when Malcolm and Seong-Jae are working another case under the table. Anjulie's asked them to find Daniella Vasquez, living or dead. But can Malcolm keep his head in the game, as years of buried trauma boil to the surface? Or will Seong-Jae be left to shoulder this alone, when Malcolm succumbs to old pains? ABOUT SEASON THREE It's back home to Baltimore and the BPD for Detectives Malcolm Khalaji and Seong-Jae Yoon—where more waits for them than old friends, new cases, and Swabbie's seasoned goat cheese fries. Working the homicide beat may be a welcome return to normalcy, but there's trouble brewing beneath the surface... in more ways than one. A string of cop killings whipping the BPD into a frenzy. A city on fire against police violence. A hidden collaboration behind the scenes of Baltimore's underworld. A deadly plot to claim power. And a shattering introduction into Malcolm's personal life, which could break his heart. Malcolm and Seong-Jae have held each other together through thick and thin. And in our third and final season, we'll discover how strong their bonds truly are.
Author
Slender. Angry. (Part) Asian. Yeah, that about sums me up. Hi. I’m Cole. Xen. Whatever you want to call me; both are true, and both are lies. My pen names are multitudes, my nicknames legion. Tall, bi/queer, introverted author of a brown-ish persuasion made up of various flavors of Black, Asian, and Native American. I’m cuter than Hello Kitty, more bitter than the blackest coffee, and able to trip over cats in a single half-asleep lurch; I’m what happens when a Broody Antihero and a Manic Pixie Dream Boy fight to the death, and someone builds a person from the scraps left behind. Beardless, I look like the uke in every yaoi manga in existence; bearded or not, I sound like Barry White. About half my time is spent as a corporate writer, and the other half riding a train of WTFery that sometimes results in a finished book. Romance, erotica, sci-fi, horror, paranormal; LGBTQIA and cishet; diverse settings and diverse characters from a diverse author. Sometimes I shout about things on the internet. Usually intersectional feminism and marginalized voices, and whomever’s punching down in those directions today. Sometimes human sociology, the psychology of sex and gender, and my own gender non-conforming arse (he/him, by the way). Sometimes I get really mad at Stephen Hawking and nerd out all over the place about hairy black holes, and believe it or not, that’s not a terrible pun or even worse innuendo. That’s it. I’m a huge dork. My humor’s so dry it could empty oceans. I’m a native Southerner from the New Orleans area with zero Southern accent; I’m a mess of multi-ethnic, multi-cultural, multi-lingual influences; I have two cats. I wake up at daft hours of the morning to go running. I crochet terrible, lumpy things that never really turn into anything. I’m older than you think I look. I’m much more shy than my fury makes me sound (signifying gods only know what, but probably nothing). Recently I decided, at 36, that I needed to restart my life and move cross-country, so I tossed 75% of my possessions in the trash and randomly trucked it to Seattle. I’m in love with books and music and technology, and they war with each other for dominance and sometimes come together in a beautiful confluence. Most of the physical books I own are strange, obscure, out of print, overseas imports, or any combination of the four. Most of the physical books I used to own were destroyed in Hurricane Katrina, and have been replaced with the infinite library on my Nook. My wallet has a dangerous attraction to anything with pages; it flirts and teases and gives its all, until there’s nothing left but emptiness and ruin. There will always be things you don’t know, and I won’t tell. But ask me late at night over live music in a seedy bar, and you might just get an honest answer. ...or you can poke me via: * Email: blackmagic@blackmagicblues.com * Twitter: @thisblackmagic * Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/xen.cole * Website & Blog: http://www.blackmagicblues.com * Tumblr: http://thisblackmagic.tumblr.com/ And there's my Xen Sanders SFF / Horror profile: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show...
