Series Tour + Giveaway: Winging It/Scoring Position (Hockey Ever After #1 & 2) by Ashlyn Kane & Morgan James

 

SERIES TOUR for HOCKEY EVER AFTER

These hockey players have hard heads, soft hands, and sweet hearts. 

They’re not looking for love, but it’s a long season….

BOOK DETAILS

BOOK 1

Book Title:  Winging It (Hockey Ever After 1)

Author: Ashlyn Kane & Morgan James

Publisher: Dreamspinner Press

Cover Artist: LC Chase

Length: 99 000 words/ 283 pages

Release Date: October 18, 2022

Genre: Contemporary M/M Romance

Tropes: Grumpy/sunshine, teammates to lovers, friends to lovers, professional athletes

Themes: Coming out, bisexual awakening, self-acceptance, friendship 

Heat Rating: 5 flames   

It is a standalone story and does not end on a cliffhanger.

Goodreads

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Falling for his teammate wasn’t in the game plan….

Blurb 

Hockey is Gabe Martin's life. Dante Baltierra just wants to have some fun on his way to the Hockey Hall of Fame. Falling for a teammate isn't in either game plan.

But plans change.

When Gabe gets outed, it turns his careful life upside-down. The chaos messes with his game and sends his team headlong into a losing streak. The last person he expects to pull him through it is Dante.

This season isn’t going the way Dante thought it would. Gabe’s sexuality doesn’t faze him, but his own does. Dante’s always been a “what you see is what you get” kind of guy, and having to hide his attraction to Gabe sucks. But so does losing, and his teammate needs him, so he puts in the effort to snap Gabe out of his funk.

He doesn’t mean to fall in love with the guy.

Getting involved with a teammate is a bad idea, but Dante is shameless, funny, and brilliant at hockey. Gabe can’t resist. Unfortunately, he struggles to share part of himself that he’s hidden for years, and Dante chafes at hiding their relationship. Can they find their feet before the ice slips out from under them?

BOOK 2

Book Title: Scoring Position (Hockey Ever After 2)

Author: Ashlyn Kane & Morgan James

Publisher: Dreamspinner Press

Cover Artist: LC Chase

Length:  98 000 words/ 285 pages

Release Date: October 18, 2022

Genre: Contemporary M/M romance

Tropes: Opposites attract, roommates to lovers, age gap

Themes: Mental health, self-improvement, family pressure

Heat Rating: 5 flames   

It is a standalone story and does not end on a cliffhanger.

Goodreads

Buy Links

Amazon US   |  Amazon UK  

Kobo  |  Apple  |  Google Play  |  B&N

You miss 100 percent of the shots you don’t take.

Blurb 

Ryan Wright’s new hockey team is a dumpster fire. He expects to lose games—not his heart.

Ryan’s laid-back attitude should be an advantage in Indianapolis. Even if he doesn’t accomplish much on the ice, he can help his burned-out teammates off it. And no one needs a friend—or a hug—more than Nico Kirschbaum, the team’s struggling would-be superstar.

Nico doesn’t appreciate that management traded for another openly gay player and told them to make friends. Maybe he doesn’t know what his problem is, but he’ll solve it with hard work, not by bonding with the class clown.

It’s obvious to Ryan that Nico’s lonely, gifted, and cracking under pressure. No amount of physical practice will fix his mental game. But convincing Nico to let Ryan help means getting closer than is wise for Ryan’s heart—especially once he unearths Nico’s sense of humor.

Will Nico and Ryan risk making a pass, or will they keep missing 100 percent of the shots they don’t take?

Excerpt from WINGING IT

Dante waited in the lobby, curled into a chair that wasn’t quite big enough to be comfortable. He kept his back to the flow of people and his nose buried in his phone. Any other night, sure, he would be happy to sign autographs. Tonight… his brain was going to endlessly replay the scene he’d just walked in on.

How had he not known Gabe was into men? It seemed obvious now. Of course he never picked women up in bars or brought a girlfriend to a team event. Dante felt stupid for not noticing. 

Somehow Dante had stumbled onto a huge secret.

And now he had to work out what to do about it.

First, though, apparently he was going to think about Gabe’s broad palm on his partner’s chest. Gabe was a big guy—two inches taller than Dante, even if Dante was more solidly built. His partner had been clinging to Gabe’s muscular shoulder.

He should stop thinking about it, but his brain was trying to fill in details. Where had Gabe’s other hand been? Had it been placed on his partner’s thigh? Had he been putting his weight on it to steady himself? Or maybe he’d used it to tilt the man’s face to the right angle.

Dante exhaled sharply. This was really, really not his business. Dwelling on it would not do him any favors. He needed to pretend everything was normal. And obsessing about your teammate feeling up some guy—and kissing, can’t forget the kissing—was not that.

So. Normal. He’d been sexiled by a roommate. That was fine! It had happened before. Today, actually. He hoped Yorkie was having a better night than Gabe.

Most importantly, sexiling was normal.

Was it hot in here?

Footsteps jarred him out of his spiral, and he looked up to see Gabe walking toward him, head down, shoulders hunched. He didn’t exactly have the look of the freshly laid about him.

Fuck.

Or, like, probably not.

Gabe dropped into the chair across from him. He was loudly projecting that he would rather stand in front of fifty of Kitty’s slap shots than have this conversation.

At least they were on even footing in that respect.

Dante put his phone away. “So, uh, sorry for cockblocking you.” Even if it’s kind of your fault. Who doesn’t use the Do Not Disturb sign? Why didn’t you tell me to pound rocks when I asked to share?

Considering the circumstances, he kept a lid on these criticisms. He could bring them up later, when Gabe didn’t look like he was about to puke all over the hotel lobby.

“I wasn’t expecting it to be a problem,” Gabe said. He slumped farther, but Dante thought his shoulders were relaxing too. “Did you strike out or something?”

“Sort of. We passed her ex on the way back to her place and she made it like ten more feet before she burst into tears. So we stopped at Dairy Queen for ice cream, and then she went to the bathroom and fixed her makeup and we took a selfie for her Instagram, and I came back here.”

The color returned to Gabe’s face and he met Dante’s gaze for the first time since that hideously awkward moment upstairs. “Guess neither of us is getting laid tonight,” he said, a little tentatively, like he wasn’t sure Dante would laugh.

“I won’t tell if you won’t.” 

“Deal,” Gabe said. The lines of tension in his face disappeared under a relieved half smile.

Good. Dante was glad they’d settled that. “Great.” He yawned. “So can we go upstairs now? I’ve had just enough booze and ice cream to make me sleepy.”

When they got up to the hotel room, Dante said, “I wish you’d told me you liked guys.” His shoes thunked dully against the wall as he kicked them off. “I wouldn’t have tried so hard to hook you up with chicks last season.” Or last week.

Gabe stared at Dante’s shoes. Then he lined his own up neatly under the desk. “It’s not something I advertise.”

“No shit.” Dante shimmied out of his jeans. 

After a beat, Gabe said, “You’re being really cool about this.”

Dante sat in the desk chair. He had a habit of saying the first thing that came to mind, and right now that was Actually, I’m kind of freaking out. He needed to take his time. “I mean, obviously I’m not mad or upset or whatever. I’m—accepting? Ugh, that’s a garbage word.” He huffed, frustrated with himself. “Look, you’re… gay?”

The muscle at the hinge of Gabe’s jaw bunched. “Yeah.” 

“Cool.” He drummed the fingers of his left hand on the desktop, realized he was doing it, and forced himself to stop. “And obviously if you haven’t told the team, you’re expecting some of them to be assholes. And that sucks. Because as far as I’m concerned, my reaction? Is, like, a pretty low bar.”

Gabe rubbed the back of his neck. “I mean, it’s not like you could come in and introduce yourself.”

If you can’t beat ’em, join ’em. Dante was losing his grip on reality. “Yeah, maybe not. You mind if I shower now? I stink like dance club.”

“Sure. I’m just gonna….” Gabe picked up the television remote.

The television came on, and a moment later Dante closed the bathroom door behind him and started the water. Mechanically, he removed his clothes and stepped under the spray. The hot water sluiced over him, washing away the sweat and club grime and what had maybe been just a little too much hair gel.

But the image of Gabe kissing another man on the bed in their hotel room stuck with him, and now, in relative privacy and naked, alone with his thoughts, Dante was forced to confront the truth of his own semi.

“I did not see this coming,” he muttered as he reached for his shampoo.

About the Authors

Ashlyn Kane likes to think she can do it all, but her follow-through often proves her undoing. Her house is as full of half-finished projects as her writing folder. With the help of her ADHD meds, she gets by. 

An early reader and talker, Ashlyn has always had a flair for language and storytelling. As an eight-year-old, she attended her first writers’ workshop. As a teenager, she won an amateur poetry competition. As an adult, she received a starred review in Publishers Weekly for her novel Fake Dating the Prince. There were quite a few years in the middle there, but who’s counting? 

Her hobbies include DIY home decor, container gardening (no pulling weeds), music, and spending time with her enormous chocolate lapdog. She is the fortunate wife of a wonderful man, the daughter of two sets of great parents, and the proud older sister/sister-in-law of the world’s biggest nerds.

Morgan James is a clueless (older) millennial who’s still trying to figure out what they’ll be when they grow up and enjoying the journey to get there. Now, with a couple of degrees, a few stints in Europe, and more than one false start to a career, they eagerly wait to see what’s next. James started writing fiction before they could spell and wrote their first (unpublished) novel in middle school. They haven’t stopped writing since. Geek, artist, archer, and fanatic, Morgan tends to pass their free hours with in imaginary worlds and people on pages and screens—it’s an addiction. As is their love of coffee and tea. They live in Canada with their massive collection of unread books, where they are the personal servant of too many four-legged creatures.

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Giveaway

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a $10 Amazon gift card

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Blog Tour: Abstract Love by Sara Dobie Bauer

Abstract Love is out now! Find out more about this contemporary romance & read an excerpt in this tour hosted by Gay Book Promotions & author Sara Dobie Bauer. Also read our 4.5 ❤️ tag team review here!

BLOG TOUR

Book Title: Abstract Love

Author: Sara Dobie Bauer

Publisher: Self-published

Cover Artist: Natasha Snow

Release Date: September 4, 2020

Genre/s: Contemporary MM romance

Trope/s: enemies-to-lovers, age gap, co-workers, office romance, 

bisexuality, businessmen, artists, bondage, comedy

Themes: sexual awakening

Possible triggers: depression, suicidal ideations, biphobia

Heat Rating: 4 flames 

Length: 71 000 words

It is a standalone book.

Goodreads

Buy Links - Available on Kindle Unlimited

Amazon US | Amazon UK

I hate Sam Shelby. So why do I want to kiss him?

Blurb

Sam never expected to move back to Cleveland.
Donovan never expected to be attracted to a man.
Well, shit happens.

After high school, Sam Shelby moved to New York. Eight years later, he returns to Cleveland and lands a job at the best ad firm in town. It would be the perfect gig, if his boss weren’t such an ass.

After his wife leaves, Donovan Cooper questions everything. The arrival of a young, arrogant, gifted graphic designer at Donovan’s firm is the last straw.

Tempers flare over office gossip, and following a nasty argument and scathing kiss, Donovan flails away from heterosexuality while Sam struggles to keep his “no relationship” rule intact.

Despite ugly socks, fiery fights, and their best intentions to not fall in love, these bullheaded coworkers can’t deny their chemistry. Donovan seeks happiness while Sam seeks success, but is there room for more?



Excerpt

Donovan sifted through a few hand-drawn logos on the desk and froze when he found a crudely drawn sketch of himself. Sam must have done it during a meeting at some point, capturing Donovan’s faux hawk, wide jaw, and severe expression.

Jesus, was this what other people saw when they looked at him? Did he really look so miserable?

“Make yourself at home?”

Donovan dropped the picture and stood straight at the sound of Sam’s voice.

He leaned against the doorframe, with one ankle crossed over the other.

“It’s really bullshit when people say that, you know?” Sam said. “Make yourself at home. No one actually wants their friends to take off their pants, drink all their beer, and binge The Great British Bake Off.” He paused. “What are you doing in my office?”

“I didn’t mean to snoop.”

The office door closed as he stepped inside. “Sure you did, or you wouldn’t be in here, so what’s up?”

Sam circled the desk, so Donovan circled the other way, although he noticed it was true what coworkers said: Sam did smell good—like clean laundry and cedar. “I think we started off on the wrong foot.”

Sam snort laughed and flipped through some files on his desk. “More like wrong continent, man.” When he found what he was looking for, he tapped the file’s corner against his palm. “I can handle guys like you, you know.”

Donovan shifted back on his heels. “Guys like me?”

“Hmm. Corporate assholes. All you see are dollar signs. You take no pleasure in your work. Advertising is money to you, not art, but without the artists, there wouldn’t be advertising, so…” He sucked his cheeks into his mouth, a momentary fish face.

Donovan wanted to tell him it wasn’t true. Donovan loved art.

He used to love art.

Sam continued, “I know I look like a six-foot-two Disney princess, but you’re not gonna rattle me.” To prove his point, Sam got right up in Donovan’s personal space until Donovan took a step back. Again, he was not used to dealing with someone his own height. “And I’m right about the Great Lakes ad campaign. If you’d pull your head out of your ass, maybe you’d notice.” He turned away abruptly.

“Sam.”

“What?”

“I’m sorry.” Ouch, that hurt coming out.

Sam’s rebuttal: “Prove it.”

“Excuse me?”

He rested a hand on the desk and cocked his hip out—the very picture of young attitude. “Listen to me in meetings.”

“I was listening.”

“Nope.” He shook his head and ran a hand through his unkempt, unprofessional hair. “No, you were hearing. I need you to listen. There’s a difference. And I know I’m just some fucking kid to you, but I ruled the New York City advertising scene. I know what I’m doing, Donovan, so let me do it.”

“Fine.” He’d had enough. He’d apologized, okay, so he’d done his Monica-enforced duty. He didn’t owe Sam anything else.

He didn’t run for the door, but he definitely moved with speed.



 

About the Author

Sara Dobie Bauer is a bestselling author, model, and mental health / LGBTQ advocate with a creative writing degree from Ohio University. She lives with her hottie husband and two precious pups in Northeast Ohio, although she’d really like to live in a Tim Burton film.

Author Links

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Follow the tour and check out the other blog posts, interviews, and reviews here

Release Blitz + Giveaway: Time Waits (Out of Time #1) C.B. Lewis

Join author C.B. Lewis & IndiGo Marketing on the release blitz tour of Time Waits. Find out more about this time travel romance, read an excerpt & enter in the giveaway for a $10 NineStar Press gift code too! Good luck!

Title: Time Waits

Series: Out of Time, Book One

Author: C.B. Lewis

Publisher: NineStar Press

Release Date: April 27, 2020

Heat Level: 3 - Some Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 109300

Genre: Science Fiction, British, gay, intercultural, PTSD, Science Fiction, time travel

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Synopsis

On the run from his former allies in 1943, Janos Nagy’s life is turned upside down when he stumbles through a mysterious doorway and finds himself in the hands of the Temporal Research Institute, a covert organization that verifies historical events through time travel.

The year, he is told, is 2041. Wounded, exhausted, and helpless, he’s in a time he doesn’t know and a world that has changed beyond his wildest imagination. Dieter Schmidt, one of the TRI linguists and historians, offers his aid in making sense of this strange new existence.

But Janos’s arrival has broken the TRI’s prime rule of non-interference. It’s not long until someone in the TRI decides that if the rule can be broken once…well, why not break it again?

Excerpt

Time Waits
C.B. Lewis © 2020
All Rights Reserved

Chapter One
The heavy rain had lightened, which was a small mercy.

The moonlight, thin and sickly, barely broke through the clouds. The trees shone a dull grey in the darkness. Only the rustle of leaves in the wind and the cries of some small creatures out in the darkness broke the silence.

A soldier broke cover from beneath the undergrowth. He stumbled and slithered down a muddy slope towards the track. Grass and dirt tore beneath his boots, and he caught himself against the trunk of a tree to keep from falling, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

In the distance, he was sure he could hear the howl of the dogs, the hunting party. He gulped down a breath before running onward.

He was armed, it was true, but what was one shot against a legion of men? He could turn it on himself, but he had escaped death once. He had no wish to face it again.

Though rough and little used, the narrow track was easier than breaching the undergrowth again. He had to get as far ahead as he could. They wouldn’t continue the hunt much longer, not with the chill of night setting in, but they might follow just long enough.

So he ran.

His legs shook with each step, but terror drove him onward. If he stopped, even to catch his breath, he didn’t think he would be able to start again. If he stopped, he would die. If he rested, he would die. If he did anything but run, he would die.

Something howled in the night, and his heart slammed against his ribs.

It might have been a dog, but it could have been a wolf.

The wind was picking up, whirling around him, the icy rain lashing his face cut through with scalding tears on his cheeks. Running and weeping. No honor. No dignity. All he knew was that he wanted to live.

Ahead of him, the track broadened, which meant it was coming closer to civilization, to people.

He hesitated a moment before plunging off the path and back into the forest, branches whipping at his face and limbs. His foot caught on a root, and he fell, rolling down the slope. He crashed into a stream at the bottom, breaking through a film of ice and plunging into the frigid water below. The cold it cut to the bone, so sharp he couldn’t even draw breath to cry out.

Blindly, he tried to find purchase on the bank. He fell forward heavily onto the ground, a thin keen of pain escaping him as he crushed his left arm beneath him. Warmth spread from the limb. The wound was open again.

“Ángele Dei,” he whispered desperately, “qui custos es mei, me, tib…”

A shout cut him off.

Lights glowed, flickering lanterns visible, like fireflies between the trees.

He pushed himself onto his knees, keening in pain, and grabbed at the low branches of a tree to pull himself upright. Splinters of bark cut into his skin, fresh blood warm on his hands. His legs were numb with cold and pain, but he ran.

The bitter wind cut into his throat and chest. He pushed deeper into the thicker, denser undergrowth—somewhere to hide, somewhere safe, somewhere unseen. Thorns tore at his face and hand, and he tasted blood in his mouth.

He was scrambling over a fallen tree trunk when it gave way beneath him. His ankle folded under him, and he yelped, falling onto his knee. It was only when he fell that he saw the hollow beneath the fallen tree. A hiding place.

Breathing hard, he squirmed through the gap, the tree and ground tearing at him, at his clothing. It was a small space, tight and narrow, but enough to shield him. He pushed dirt up to block the opening, his nose and mouth full of the taste of moss and mud, and lay still and silent as the grave.

Purchase

NineStar Press | Amazon | Smashwords | Barnes & Noble | Kobo

Meet the Author

C.B. Lewis has been making up nonsense since she was able to talk. Now, she puts it into computers and turns it into books. She is chuffed to bits to officially be yet another one of the collective of authors from Edinburgh.

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Tag Team Review: The Parable of the Mustard Seed by Lisa Henry

John Faimu is an Australian-Samoan police officer who deals with hurt kids every day. Caleb Fletcher was the teenager John saved from a cult eight long years ago, and he’s now the young man John wants in ways that neither of them should risk.

Eight years after his rescue, Caleb is still struggling with PTSD and self-harm. John has always been his rock, but now Caleb wants more. Can he convince John to cross a line and love him the way they both crave? And when the monsters from Caleb’s past come back seeking to silence him for good, will John’s love be enough to save him?

averaged rating!

Adam - 4.5 Hearts

Every once in a while I come across a pair of characters that I just know I’m going to be thinking about for a while. Caleb and John are now in that category.

Their love story is a fragile yet hopeful one.These two men go through tragedy and one hurdle after another.

And yet there is never any doubt that John and Caleb are absolutely committed to each other, no matter what happens.

Caleb and John are already in love when the book starts, the years of friendship having progressed to more at some random point. I’m not usually a fan of this setup, as it often means that readers don’t really see the relationship development.

But that definitely wasn’t the case here! Between the flashbacks and the two men taking things step by step, I never felt that I missed any part of their romance.

My heart hurt for Caleb. What he goes through as a boy is shattering, but his inner strength was undeniable. The book pulls no punches. Caleb’s recovery and setbacks are an on-going process. But he does get better, and a big part of that is John.

I loved how absolutely devoted John was, both as a friend and then as a lover. Regardless of what was going on, Caleb always came first. And Caleb reciprocates that, in his own way.

The two have an unwavering bond that bends and morphs, but never breaks. I think that’s what stood out the most for me - just how constant their love for each other was, no matter what form it took throughout the years.

Family also plays a major role in Caleb and John’s relationship. John’s big clan and Caleb’s father are just as much a part of the story as the two main characters. As someone who comes from a very tight-knit family myself, I quite liked the dynamic!

That being said, this isn’t an easy romance, despite the support of family and the love the two men have for each other. It’s acknowledged that there’s no magic solution for Caleb and the psychological scars from what he went through.

However, there is a happy ever after for John and Caleb, and a brilliant one at that! It takes a lot of work, and a reckoning with the past, but they get all the sunshine and joy that they so deserve!

If you’re looking for an angst-heavy yet brilliant love story, I’d highly recommend ‘The Parable of the Mustard Seed’!



R *A Reader Obsessed* - 4 Hearts

Angsty but not torturously so, Henry delivers a heartfelt and hard won love story.

As per the blurb, John and Caleb meet under the worst of circumstances, and though it's been many years later, their connection is stronger than ever. There’s definitely been slow healing with plenty of setbacks, all of which have shaped these two into who they are today. John has always been a solid force, often showing unconditional support for Caleb and his dad Darren, through the many ups and downs they’ve faced together.

However over time, John’s initial concern for the once teenage Caleb has slowly morphed into so much more. It comes as no surprise that his caring feelings have evolved, but John knows he must keep them close to the vest, mainly because he doesn’t think he’s good enough for Caleb but also, should things not work out, the possible repercussions could be devastating.

What John doesn’t know is that despite Caleb’s many many issues, his traumatic past has obviously and inevitably shaped who Caleb feels most safe with and that person of course, is John. Caleb (though we don’t get his point of view) knows he’s forever altered because of the appalling circumstances he was subjected to for over a decade, but that doesn’t mean he can’t or won’t try to make his life something more than fear and nightmares. He wants a chance to move on, he wants John, and he makes himself perfectly clear on such.

This was a thoughtful and what I assume, realistic look at PTSD and anxiety, where there is no easy fix and definitely, no easy answers. At times both frustrating and heartbreaking, beware triggers for religious oppression, physical and emotional abuse, awful parents being unforgivably evil, and murder. It’s understandable that Caleb is scarred, and while he’s made many strides in overcoming brutal conditioning, sometimes even the smallest obstacles can have huge consequences and stall progress, but not all is lost.

More importantly, despite the overwhelming worry and doubts, one has to take a leap of faith. There's a fine line between wanting to shield and protect and also allowing one to attempt some progress despite the possibility of failure. This was emotional but never unnecessarily overdramatic. There are brief flashbacks consistently scattered throughout showing the past and the evolution of John and Caleb, doling out what has transpired over time. Intermix that with the present and the fallout when Caleb’s tormentors are released from prison, and this becomes more than just a romance. There's good guys to root for and bad guys to get their deserved punishment, and Henry delivers.

Overall though, this is a journey about two men who love each other desperately and at long last, bravely try to make it work. Henry accomplishes a difficult win that’s as tenuous as it is strong and leaves the reader with confidence that John and Caleb will undoubtedly triumph. Whatever challenges they‘ll for sure face, they'll do it together with the support of their friends and family. Again, this was touching and intimate and just very sweet in and amongst the maelstrom of apt turmoil. Highly recommended!

Giveaway + Blog Tour: The Parable of the Mustard Seed by Lisa Henry

Age gap fans will want to check out The Parable of the Mustard Seed by author Lisa Henry. Find out more about this hurt/comfort romance from the author's visit where she talks about the lovable pooch from her book, read an excerpt hosted by IndiGo Marketing & enter the giveaway for a $25 Amazon gift card too! Good luck!

Title: The Parable of the Mustard Seed

Author: Lisa Henry

Publisher:Self Published

Release Date: 3 April 2020

Heat Level: 3 - Some Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 79 000 words

Genre: Romance

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Synopsis

The past never stays buried forever.


John Faimu is an Australian-Samoan police officer who deals with hurt kids every day. He loves what he does, but he’s tired of the grind of shift work, and of trying to find a balance between his job, his family, and the young man who straddles the increasingly blurry line between both.

Caleb Fletcher was the teenager John saved from a cult eight long years ago, and he’s now the young man John wants in ways that neither of them should risk.

Eight years after his rescue, Caleb is still struggling with PTSD and self-harm. John has always been his rock, but now Caleb wants more. Can he convince John to cross a line and love him the way they both crave? And when the monsters from Caleb’s past come back seeking to silence him for good, will John’s love be enough to save him?

The Parable of the Mustard Seed is an mm gay romance featuring hurt/comfort, first times, found family, and angst with a happy ending.

Author Visit

Hi, everyone. I’m Lisa! Thank you so much for having me here today, and letting me talk a little about my newest release, The Parable of the Mustard Seed.

Whenever I’m writing a book, supporting characters have a way of wandering in and stealing scenes. I have a lot of love for the supporting characters in The Parable of the Mustard Seeds, from Caleb’s dad Darren, to John’s entire family and his says-what-she-thinks colleague Liz. But I think that maybe my favourite supporting character in this book is Cricket the dog.

Cricket is the shelter dog Caleb gets as an early birthday present from his dad, and he and John go and pick up on one of John’s days off. Anyone who follows my social media knows of my love of dogs and cats, and some of Cricket’s mannerisms (and her favourite way to play) were definitely borrowed from Daisy, my lab. Except (sorry, Daisy!) Cricket is a lot smarter.

Cricket is a seven-month old red kelpie, an Australian breed of dog that some of my readers might not be familiar with. Kelpies are smart, and fast, and they’re working dogs, which means that if you are going to have one as a pet, you need to keep them active and engaged. They’re also incredibly loyal and protective, and they love socialising. If you walk towards Caleb’s back fence, you’ll get a face like this one looking back at you:

I don’t know what it is about the dogs I put in books. For some reason, the darker the book and the more damaged the character, the more likely they are to have a dog. Maybe it’s an unconscious consolation prize, or an apology: “Sorry I did such horrible things to you. Here, this puppy will make it better.”

For all that I’ve given characters dogs before, I think this is the first time I’ve acknowledged in the actual book what they’re there for. Cricket is unashamedly a dog who can help Caleb to heal, and to give him the motivation to get through each day—sometimes being responsible for a pet is the push it takes to get out of bed—but Cricket also brings Caleb pure joy:

Fifteen minutes later, with an armful of dog food, treats, toys, and Cricket’s favourite blanket, John pushed the door open with difficulty. Caleb and Cricket followed him, Cricket tangling herself on her leash.

“Hope she doesn’t pee in my car,” John said.

“Can I sit in the back with her?” Caleb asked him, wearing a smile bigger than any John had seen on him in months. Maybe longer.
“Sure.”

They drove to the beach, and John laughed while Caleb paddled in the shallows with a very dubious Cricket. Dainty little girl didn’t like to get her paws wet. Not at first, anyway, but it didn’t take her long to change her mind.

John sat on the beach and watched as Caleb and Cricket splashed around. It was good to see Caleb happy. Carefree. His hair shone in the sunlight. The water glittered.

Afterward, they found a tap up on the grass, and Caleb washed his feet then cupped his hands so Cricket could drink. He was still smiling.

“Thanks, John,” he said. “Thanks for doing this.”

In this story, Cricket might be the rescue dog, but she’s rescuing Caleb at the same time.

Excerpt

Fucking hospitals.

John scrubbed his knuckles over his scalp. He felt more tired now than he had for a long time, and it wasn’t just the shift work. It was Caleb, and this place, and the knowledge that they’d been here before and they would be here again. Different hospitals, different beds, different scratchy blankets and too-cold air conditioning, but all of them stuck in the same old cycle.

Eight years of this.

It wasn’t always this dramatic. Most of the time it didn’t end in a hospital. Most of the time it was increasingly erratic behaviour. It was risk-taking. It was subtle and pervasive, but John knew how to read the signs. He’d talked Caleb down from plenty of metaphorical high places before. Enough to wonder every time if he was only delaying the inevitable. If Darren was, and the psychiatrists and psychologists were, and the pharmacists.

John sighed.

Of course it felt hopeless. It was almost three in the morning and he was sitting in a fucking hospital. Shit always felt dire in the middle of the night.

John reached out and brushed his fingertips against the back of Caleb’s right hand. His skin was cold to the touch, his fingers white and bloodless. Several of his knuckles were grazed. The wounds weren’t fresh.

Darren had said last week that Caleb had punched a wall. Out of nowhere. No warnings signs, no meltdown, just a sudden, furious burst of anger that had broken over him. And afterward, Darren said, when Caleb was sitting on the floor nursing an icepack, he’d refused to talk about it.

Sometimes even Caleb didn’t know what the fuck was happening in his head.

John’s fingertips brushed the wrinkled edge of the tape that held the canula in the back of Caleb’s hand. The plastic tape was dry and rough.

“I bleed and you’re here.”

Fuck.

John straightened and turned his face toward Caleb’s. His face was pale, his lips colourless. Dark circles carved out hollows under his eyes.

“Your dad called me,” John said. “He’s on his way.”

Caleb’s gaze dropped away.

John leaned closer and frowned. “What the fuck are you doing, mate?”

“Bad night.” Caleb pressed his lips into a thin white line.

“Were you clubbing?” John gestured at his clothes: dark jeans, a tight shirt, and—what were the kids calling them these days?—expensive kicks.

Caleb inspected the bandages on his arm. “Yeah.”

“What happened?”

“Nothing.”

“Don’t bullshit me, Caleb.” John was always there to pick up the pieces, but he didn’t coddle Caleb. He never had, not even at the start. “You think I drove all the way here to listen to you lie to me?”

“I was with a guy.” Caleb flinched as he said it.

“Were you safe?”

Caleb’s gaze faltered. “I was with a guy.”

“So you said.” John wondered what reaction Caleb had been expecting. “Were you safe?”

Caleb nodded, turning his face away.

John studied him for a moment, unsure how to react. A part of him was afraid to react at all in case any reaction was an overreaction. Caleb wasn’t coming out as gay—he’d done that at nineteen—but by admitting to a sexual encounter he was coming out in another way: Caleb was coming out as human being who wanted to be touched. A human being with sexual needs. This was a big step. The biggest in a long time. Nobody had expected him to remain celibate forever; nobody thought that was remotely healthy. But fuck, this big step had turned into a hell of a stumble, hadn’t it? Caleb was in freefall.

John reached out and squeezed Caleb’s shoulder. “Did this guy try something? Something you didn’t want to do?”

“No.” Caleb shifted. His worried gaze found John again. “No, it was me, not him.”

John nodded.

“We went to a hotel.” Caleb’s gaze slipped away again. “He said I was a slut.” His voice hitched. “Said I was bad.”

John moved his hand from Caleb’s shoulder to his cheek. Caleb was still so cold. “If you tell me he was being a prick, I’ll track the fucker down.”

“The way he said it, I was supposed to like it. Wasn’t his fault.” Caleb closed his eyes. “I didn’t even mind, not much, not when he was there.”

John sighed. “What happened when he left?”

Caleb shuddered. “When he left, all I could hear in my head was Ethan.”

John tensed, and tried not to let Caleb feel it.

“So loud,” Caleb sighed.

John withdrew his hand. “Look at me.”

Caleb opened his eyes.

“Next time you hear Ethan Gray in your head, you don’t listen to him.” John shook his head. “You call you dad, or your doctor, or you call me, doesn’t matter what time, you call me and I will be there. You understand me?”

Caleb jerked his chin in a nod.

“You don’t cut yourself, Caleb.” John frowned. “You understand me?”

“Okay,” Caleb murmured.

The worst part, John knew, was that Caleb meant it, and would go on meaning it right up until the next time he was holding a blade against his wrists.

You’ll break my heart one day, Caleb Fletcher, I know you will.

John forced a smile. “Okay.”

Caleb sighed and closed his eyes.

John watched him until he fell asleep, then got up and hunted down a blanket.

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Meet the Author

 

Lisa likes to tell stories, mostly with hot guys and happily ever afters.

Lisa lives in tropical North Queensland, Australia. She doesn't know why, because she hates the heat, but she suspects she's too lazy to move. She spends half her time slaving away as a government minion, and the other half plotting her escape.

She attended university at sixteen, not because she was a child prodigy or anything, but because of a mix-up between international school systems early in life. She studied History and English, neither of them very thoroughly.

She shares her house with too many cats, a dog, a green tree frog that swims in the toilet, and as many possums as can break in every night. This is not how she imagined life as a grown-up.

Lisa has been published since 2012, and was a LAMBDA finalist for her quirky, awkward coming-of-age romance Adulting 101, and a Rainbow Awards finalist for 2019’s Anhaga.

You can connect with her here:

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Review: The Lost Boy by Anna Martin

Five years after his band Ares shot to success, Ben Easton is struggling. He’s holed up in a mansion in Los Angeles while he fights depression and a dark drug addiction that threatens to destroy everything. In a final attempt to save Ben’s life, his best friend Tone does something desperate—he calls Ben’s ex-boyfriend Stan and begs him to help.

Stan Novikov is living in New York and thriving in his career as a fashion journalist. He hasn’t been back to London since he and Ben broke up, but that seems like the right place to go—along with Tone—to try and shock Ben out of his unhealthy lifestyle.

The band have to finish their album before Christmas but without Ben, work has stalled. Ben has to decide whether he’s going to stay with Ares and keep making music, or find another path for his future. One that might just include Stan.

This is a story about redemption, salvation and finding home.

Ben and Stan had found a home in each other but life happened and it slipped away. Now, five years later Ben is mired in an addiction that's on the verge of killing him when Tone intervenes and brings them back together. Good ole Tone.

The blurb is pretty straightforward and the narrative is as well, so I'll refrain from summarizing. Suffice to say, it's brimming with the same unfussy writing and unambiguous dialogue that enchanted me in The Impossible Boy.

Life is tough enough without histrionics and that is what works most for me with this duet. Stan is a gay, gender fluid, fashionista with an eating disorder and Ben is a bisexual rockstar with anxiety and a raging drug addiction. Simply navigating the hands they've been dealt while being ever mindful of the landmines that could trigger either of them into a relapse that would quite literally kill them is more than enough to deal with on a daily basis.

But make no mistake becoming 'we' again is an odyssey that is both heartbreaking and joyous, gritty and poignant, just without antics. I found the honesty of Ben's addiction and the stripped down approach to his recovery refreshing. He's an addict. He'll always be an addict but what resonated with me was the fact that he undertakes treatment for himself with Stan's help rather than for Stan and I applaud Ms. Martin for making that distinction.

More than once along the way I found myself becoming emotional while reading The Lost Boy. I actually think 'The Lost Boys' is a more apropos title since they've both lost a part of themselves through their separation; both are shadows of their former selves. I guess losing your soulmate will do that to a person. Rebuilding the trust between them is incremental; the love is still there. Always. Learning how to do it again with all the new extraneous stuff factored in is the trick, so expect more of a love story than an erotic romance.

Some will probably say the story is meandering and could've been tightened up and they may be right but, honestly, I didn't care. I wanted more time with Stan and Ben and that's what I got, so zero complaints from me. I don't know that I can let them go now but I'm happy with how their story ended and, frankly, I cannot bear the thought of them breaking up again. So, au revoir, Stan and Ben. Be well. I'll see you in a reread.

Fans of The Impossible Boy, this is a must read.
If you enjoy love stories free of artifice, this duet is golden.
If you enjoy second chances, The Lost Boy is a melodic ballad to the trope.
If you enjoy fashion or rockstars, this is an ode to both.
Lastly, it's a love song to London so if that appeals, give it a whirl.

Triggers for mentions of sexual assault and drug usage.

An ARC was provided by the author in exchange for an honest review.

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Review: Tough Guy (Game Changers #3) by Rachel Reid

They have nothing in common—so why does Ryan feel most like himself whenever he’s with Fabian?

Pro hockey star Ryan Price may be an enforcer, but off the ice he struggles with anxiety. Recently traded to the Toronto Guardians, he’s determined to make a fresh start in the city’s dynamic LGBTQ Village. The last thing he expects to stumble upon in his new neighborhood is a blast from his past in the fabulous form of Fabian Salah.

Aspiring musician Fabian loathes hockey. But that doesn’t stop him from being attracted to a certain burly, ginger-bearded defenseman. He hasn’t forgotten the kiss they almost shared back in high school, and it’s clear the chemistry between them has only intensified.

Fabian is more than happy to be Ryan’s guide to the gay scene in Toronto. Between dance clubs and art exhibits—and the most amazing sex—Ryan’s starting to feel something he hasn’t experienced in a long time: joy. But playing the role of the heavy on the ice has taken its toll on his body and mind, and a future with Fabian may mean hanging up his skates for good.

Honestly, I intended to wait to read this until closer to its release but I am currently muddled in a reading desert complete with tumbleweeds and the occasional snake so... I needed a slam dunk.

AND that's what Reid delivered in the third of the Game Changers series which, by the way, was completely different in tone to its predecessors. I found myself impressed with Reid's range and ability to straddle the line between sweet and meaty. Let it be known, I'm not averse to closeted characters and Ryan is in no way wearing Pride boxers in the locker room but it was a nice change of pace to have a hockey player who doesn't morph into a closet monster at the drop of a hat.

"You're a giant, orange teddy bear with deep pockets!"

Tough Guy features a ginger gentle giant that will pull on the heartstrings of even the most callous of readers. Ryan struggles with anxiety and body image issues both of which run deep. My heart broke for him more than once and I appreciated that the magic peen panacea wasn't trotted out. All his life he's found it difficult to connect with people both personally and professionally which has landed him on the trading block multiple times.

Was it possible for your heart to hold on to a ridiculous crush for thirteen years?

Which is how he lands in Toronto and with a little help from the serendipity gods has a chance run in with his high school crush, Fabian, or should I say a second chance run in? Full disclosure, I'm kind of a sucker for the unrequited love being requited trope especially when both parties were moony over each other.

"There's always been something about you. I've always been drawn to you. Is that weird?"

Ryan considered it. "I don't know. But I feel the same way." 

Fabian is Ryan's polar opposite: femme, confident, extroverted and loves the spotlight. He's an emerging local singer/songwriter who at one point was chosen for the Toronto Symphony. In short, super talented, super adorable, gives zero fucks what anyone thinks of him and, needless to say, has to carry the bulk of the lets get reacquainted portion of the relationship early on for obvious reasons. The scales do balance with Ryan treating Fabian like he's the center of the universe and Fabian's almost preternatural ability to temper Ryan's mental health issues which is a must for me as a romance reader with a squishy marshmallow center.

The relationship evolves realistically and Ryan's angst was offset by Fabian's easy-breeziness coupled with their obvious chemistry. However, while they are enamored of each other Tough Guy is considerably less sexy than the other books in the series. It's more of a quiet sexiness with one BAJANGAJANG scene that was worthy of a reread. For science. Which proved my hypothesis that jazz hands and some primal... vocalizations really enhance the experience. True story.

Also, Tough Guy's secondary characters were on point! All of them. They were fantastic and fun including a certain Russian who makes a couple of appearances which you know I was 100% on board with. #1-FAN

If you're a fan of the series, sports romance, opposites attract, second chances or someone who can appreciate a significant size difference in their reads then give Tough Guy a whirl. I, for one, am hoping these two turn up again as the series continues.

p.s. It can probably be read as a standalone, though I would never recommend that. Because Ilya.

p.p.s. Sorry. I talked a lot about a Rachel Reid book. Again.

An ARC was provided by the publisher in exchange for an honest review.

Release Blitz + Giveaway: Breathe Out Slow by A.D. Lawless

Celebrate the release of Breathe Out Slow with author A.D. Lawless & Indigo Marketing. Find out more about this new adult contemporary romance, read an excerpt & enter in the giveaway for a $10 Ninestar Press credit.

Title: Breathe Out Slow

Author: A.D. Lawless

Publisher: NineStar Press

Release Date: September 9, 2019

Heat Level: 3 - Some Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 44700

Genre: Contemporary, LGBT, New Adult, college, depression,hurt-comfort, friends to lovers

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Synopsis

When unexpected tragedy strikes, shattering eighteen-year-old Ryan’s idyllic life, he does the only thing he can to stay sane… he slaps on a mask, pretends he’s fine, and takes off for college. Week after week, he drifts through school in a bleak half-life. He doesn’t care about anything, or anyone—least of all himself.

Then Liam Doyle hurtles into his life with easy smiles, effortless caring, and those kind hazel eyes that see straight through him. Liam sees him and wants to stick around anyway.

And that… well, that’s terrifying.

Intensely unforgettable, Breathe Out Slow is a heart-rending journey of loss, bittersweet memories, and two incredible love stories.

Excerpt

Breathe Out Slow
A.D. Lawless © 2019
All Rights Reserved

Eighteen

August

Ryan woke up and his eyelids were heavy, dark. There was light on the other side, but he couldn’t force them open. It was so much work and if he did…if he opened his eyes then it was real. There was nothing he wanted more than for all of this to be some kinda sick nightmare that was caught in a loop, like if he just smacked the side of his life hard enough, it’d stop skipping.

“Ry, honey, I know you’re awake. You need to open your eyes for me, okay? I just…” Her voice cracked, and he knew his mom was crying. She gently brushed his bangs away from his forehead with her fingertips. “I just need to see those green eyes. Please? I need to know you’re okay.”

Ryan’s breath caught painfully in his throat. It hurt so damn bad to hear his mom cry, but it’d hurt worse if he knew it was real. If…if he opened his eyes, then Chris was gone. And Chris was everything. How was Ryan supposed to face that?

Tears leaked from the corners of his closed eyes, and his mom squeezed his hand.

“All right. Okay, sweetheart,” she choked out. “We’ll try again later.”

Not a single sound passed his lips, but inside he was screaming a litany of no, over and over and over.

Flashes of last weekend burst bright behind his eyelids and he wanted to push them away, wanted to ignore them, but he couldn’t. He deserved the pain they brought with them.

The party on Friday night had been loud—bass-heavy music and the sound of drunken laughter permeated the air. The beer in Ryan’s hand was his fourth, and it was mostly gone. He shoved his hair away from his overheated face, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth as he listened to his friend, Josh, talk about the girl he’d had a crush on for most of their senior year. It was funny how Josh could look as good as he did and still be a nervous wreck when it came to interacting with girls.

Ryan thought he was lucky he’d never had to go through that. Chris had always been meant for him, and he’d always been meant for Chris. Even if no one else knew. Chris’s mom was extremely religious, and he’d always been terrified she’d find out. Too scared of losing Chris, Ryan had never made an issue of it. Besides, soon they’d be away at college and they wouldn’t have to worry about it anymore.

Not being able to say they were together had its downsides; people often questioned why Chris didn’t date. It was hard not to wonder when half the student population was in love with him at any given time, and it didn’t help that he flirted like he breathed—mostly unconsciously. Ryan tried not to let it bother him. Charismatic and friendly with a wide smile and an infectious laugh, Chris drew people to him in a way Ryan often envied. Getting along with people was so easy for him, the complete opposite of Ryan’s general dislike for other human beings, especially before he’d been sufficiently caffeinated.

Josh and Chris were pretty much the only exceptions to his social apathy, or at least, they put up with his shit the best, and for unknown reasons, they actually liked to be around his cranky ass. Not that they didn’t hang out with other people, but all three of them had been best friends since daycare.

Thick and thin and ups and downs, they’d gone through it all together. Which was why Josh’d known almost instantly when Chris and Ryan’s relationship had shifted into something deeper.

“Hey, by the way, where’d Chris wander off to?” Josh asked suddenly, blue eyes drunk-bright with a slight squint. His head tilted a little curiously as his light brown hair fell over one eye. “Been like fifteen minutes. How long’s it take to hit the can? Think he fell in? His drunk ass totally fell in.”

Josh chuckled loud at himself in order to be heard over the music. Ryan grinned and rolled his eyes. “He probably got sidetracked by Lexie’s cats. You know his cat-person persona only shows up when he’s sloppy drunk. Total dog-person the rest of the time. Who even knew alcohol could change your pet preferences?”

A wide grin flashed across Josh’s lips. “I mean, there’s a lotta things drunk-me would do that sober-me’d say ‘What the fuck man?’ over so I got no room to judge.”

“Drunk-you is just sober-you with even less of a filter,” Ryan said as he scanned the living room for some sign of Chris. Seriously, what the fuck is taking him so long?

“I have a filter?” Josh asked, lifting his brows with great exaggeration. “I should really work harder on saying whatever the fuck’s on my mind.” His eyes narrowed. “Like right fucking now, for instance. You’re not even listening to me, asshole, just go find your—um, best friend.”

Josh looked at him apologetically for his almost slip-up. He was usually so good about it, and Ryan felt a twinge of guilt that Josh needed to keep such a big secret for them.

Ryan smirked, and Josh’s shoulders relaxed. “Fine, but if he fell in, he’s your best friend for the rest of the night.”

Laughing, Josh waved Ryan’s comment off. “Whatever, Nash. Like you wouldn’t walk his ass home.”

Slight dizziness made Ryan’s head swim when he pushed off from where he was leaned against the wall and he realized maybe he was a little tipsier than he thought. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fucking prince charming.”

Josh’s laughter followed him as Ryan wandered across the room, dropping his beer can off on a table he passed, weaving his way through bodies packed tight in the small space. Jesus, is everyone we graduated with here?

The staircase was barely better, but at least he didn’t have to touch anyone as he walked up the steps. His skin was crawling with too many people around him, and anxiety ate through a bit of his buzz.

At the top of the stairs, people dotted the hallway, and the bathroom door was shut. Just in case, Ryan turned the handle and opened the door to check inside.

Wrapped all around Chris, her hands tangled up in the back of his hair and her lips on his, was Allie from their English class. Shock and confusion stabbed into Ryan’s chest at breakneck speed and his stomach turned revoltingly. He blinked hard because he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Chris wouldn’t—why would he…?

They broke apart, and Ryan realized he must’ve made some kind of startled noise, because Allie was grinning smugly at him and Chris looked guilty, upset.

Abruptly, Chris pushed Allie back a few steps and walked toward Ryan with his arms outstretched, palms facing out as if he was approaching a spooked animal. He was almost within touching distance when Ryan finally focused enough through his shock to notice Chris was saying something.

Ryan shook his head, eyes wide and wet as he backed away. His pulse pounded in his ears, and he just couldn’t. Betrayal and anguish tangled up hotly in his chest as he kept backing away, his throat aching, thoughts racing.

With no memory of having turned around and leaving, Ryan found himself outside, cool summer night air against his burning face, and all he could think was why. Why would Chris do that? What did I do to deserve that?

His heart was tearing agonizingly apart and all he could do was put one clumsy foot in front of the other. He didn’t want to break down right then. He just—he needed to get home. He needed to think, and his mind was too fuzzy with alcohol to make sense of this.

The person he trusted most in the whole world—the person he loved with every single part of him—had cheated on him. It wasn’t fair, and it hurt, and Ryan’s chest constricted as he struggled to breathe properly. His mind wouldn’t stop replaying the way Allie’d been all over Chris.

No one…no one except Ryan had kissed Chris before. Or he’d thought he was the only one. That Chris would’ve mentioned anyone else. Maybe Ryan didn’t know him as intimately as he’d thought. Not if…if he was making out with Allie at a fucking party where his boyfriend was just downstairs. Who the hell knew what else Chris had lied about. Did he even love him? Did he even care about him? Bile burned the back of Ryan’s throat and he choked down a sob. If he started crying now, he wouldn’t stop, and he hated that he felt so weak because of it.

And the part that sucked the most was that Ryan still loved Chris. Furious and utterly gutted and he still ached for those strong arms to wrap around him and tell him everything was okay. That was—so, so, fucked up, wasn’t it? God, what was wrong with him?

A hand wrapped around his bicep and spun him backward. Face to face with Chris, his brown eyes shadowed in the dark and so achingly sad.

“Ryan—”

Yanking his arm out of Chris’s grasp, all that betrayal and anger and hurt that’d been simmering in Ryan’s gut boiled over, “Don’t! Don’t touch me.”

Surprise and anguish flickered across Chris’s features, and irrationally, Ryan had the impulse to make it better, because that hurt too. But he couldn’t, wouldn’t let himself. There was no excuse for what Chris did and no matter what he wanted to say, Ryan wouldn’t listen to empty words and apologies.

“Ry, I’m so sorry you saw that. It’s not what you—”

Ryan shook his head again and voice thick with pain, cut him off. “I need to go home. I—Chris I can’t right now.”

Chris nodded frantically, eyes desperate. “Okay, I’ll come with you. We can talk at your place, okay?”

“I’m going alone. I don’t think I can—I need to be alone,” Ryan whispered roughly, defeated.

Pleading, Chris stepped closer to him and tried again, “I just—Ryan if you just listen, I can explain—”

Ryan’s eyes widened and then narrowed down into angry slits of emotion. “Yeah, sure! I’m sure you know exactly how to rationalize it. Probably thought up all kinds of reasons. I can’t believe you’d do this to me.” Misery and disbelief leaked into his voice, thick like molasses.

He should’ve stopped there. He should’ve just listened to what Chris had to say or told him to go home—anything but what came out next. He couldn’t though; righteous indignation burned way too hotly in his stomach and words he didn’t really mean came out instead, “Just…go back to the party, Chris. Get drunk and make out with whoever the hell you want. I don’t fucking care what you do. I’m done. Just—God, just leave me the fuck alone!”

Chris recoiled like he’d been slapped and then anger replaced the grief on his face. “Fine, you know what? Fuck this. You wanna leave? Then go.”

“Fine.”

Tears stung at the corners of Ryan’s eyes and he scrubbed a hand beneath his eyes to wipe them away as his lips trembled. Chris blinked and the outrage on his face melted away as he stepped closer again, but Ryan moved back.

“Ryan…”

“No, don’t.” His world was breaking apart bit by bit. Crumbling into a messy, bloody heap around his feet. His chest was hollow and heavy, and he had to go. Despair made his voice weak as he walked away and said, “I need space. Just go back to the party.”

Somehow, Ryan made it home that night. The twenty-minute walk took twice as long, thanks to the fact he’d been staggering drunkenly under the crushing weight of Chris’s unfaithfulness. He’d known Chris was bi, known how much easier his life would be if he’d fallen in love with a girl instead of him, and oh, look—he fucking might’ve.

No, that wasn’t fair, Ryan couldn’t believe it. Chris wasn’t that kind of person. Under his covers, curled up on his side in his bed, he could hardly believe what he’d seen with his own eyes, let alone that it was more than that. Whatever had happened with Allie it wasn’t that. It can’t be, right? He wouldn’t do that to me. Would he?

All he wanted was for his thoughts to shut the hell up. He wanted to stop thinking about it. He didn’t have any extra insight, and asking himself repeatedly wasn’t going to produce magical answers. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t turn his mind off. His thoughts churned and his throat scratched as tears he’d held back finally spilled over his cheeks in salty, humiliating streams.

And he’d thought…that night he’d thought it was the worst thing he’d ever felt. Nothing could’ve hurt worse than that.

He’d been wrong.

A repetitive vibration had woken him from his restless exhausted sleep and sirens that couldn’t be all that far away were wailing noisily. It would forever be burned into his memory—3:24 a.m. He saw it on his eyelids whenever he closed them after that. Because 3:24 a.m. was the exact time his life ended.

The details of the phone call were stuck in his brain too—Chris’s mom’s voice, shocked and furious, but he tried not to think about it. Little snippets crept through anyway; Chris had gotten even drunker. He’d left the party. Told people he needed to talk to Ryan. Gotten in his car, stupid, why the fuck did he do something so fucking stupid? Crashed it into a telephone pole just a few blocks from Ryan’s. And then her voice broke and she told him—she said… Chris died on the scene. It was all Ryan’s fault.

And she was right. She was right, it was.

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Meet the Author

AD Lawless is a bisexual tattoo-junkie with bright red hair and a passion for telling stories. She’s a mid-thirties married mom, a photographer, and a fandom enthusiast. Her philosophy is that happy endings need to be earned, and she loves writing multiple different genres—she’s never been good at sticking to one sandbox.

Through her writing AD Lawless hopes to tell stories that connect with readers, that feature characters reflecting their identities, and to give her readers a temporary escape into worlds that are just a little better, and sometimes a little more fantastical, than ours.

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