What happens in the wilderness stays in the wilderness. Until it doesn’t...
Blurb
When his alpha invites a bunch of cougar-shifters to visit, wolf-shifter Karl Griffin is not happy. All he wants is a quiet life protecting his pack and forgetting his past. Instead, the big cats arrive and disrupt everything.
Leon Fitzroy has never found anywhere he can belong. The only panther in a cougar pride, he’s fought to be accepted, but he doesn’t really fit in. And now he’s expected to spend time with a wolf pack. Wolf-shifters are infuriating. Even worse, the most annoying wolf is also ridiculously hot.
When Leon ambushes a member of Karl’s pack to prove a point, tensions between them threaten to boil over. Sparks continue to fly as they’re forced to work together. But out in the wilderness, they find there are worse dangers than bossy wolves and smug cats. Survival depends on learning to trust one another—if they can.
Excerpt
As they ate up the miles, Leon realized that wolves might be slow but they were damned efficient in their gait. Karl looked as fresh as when they’d set off and was maintaining the same speed. It wasn’t a problem for Leon—no wolf could beat him at anything—but he didn’t usually run like this in cat form. He was more used to stalking before exploding into a burst of speed that no wolf could ever match, not this relentless running his prey to ground over many miles. The difference came from hunting solo rather than in a pack, he supposed.
Karl led them up a steep hillside and finally drew to a halt. Leon looked around and cursed when he saw the view. The ranch house looked tiny, but there was a clear line of sight to it. Give someone a magnified scope and—
Actually, no, he didn’t know of any rifle that could shoot that far accurately, so that wasn’t very likely. But give them high-power binoculars and they could have been observing all sorts of things, like when Luna came and went each day and when wolves left the house for their regular patrols. Shit.
He turned his attention to the area of flattened grass and put his nose to it, trying to identify the mixture of scents he found, only for a dark shape to loom in front of him. Karl blocked him, using the bulk of his body to push him away. What the actual fuck?
He had the opportunity to ask precisely that because Karl shifted, meaning Leon followed suit.
“What the fuck? You think I’m going to trample over clues? I’m not a damn wolf, nosing into everything before they so much as think.”
For a second, he thought Karl was going to punch him. Instead, with a suggestion of grinding teeth, Karl turned back to the camp they’d found. “You forget I don’t know you,” he said as he crouched down and observed the litter that had been left and the cigarette butts that were scattered on one side of the small depression. “You could be Jessica Fletcher and Sherlock Holmes rolled into one, but until I see proof of that, I’m not risking it.”
The worst thing was that, through his fury, Leon could see his point. If positions were reversed, if they were on Leon’s turf and examining somewhere for clues, no way would he let some stupid clumsy wolf go poking about wherever he wanted. It stung, though, that Karl didn’t respect him. No one got to be responsible for the queen’s safety lightly. It had taken him years of work and training to get to the point where he was recognized by everyone as having that responsibility. Karl probably thought his position was due to him and Luna being related, because wolves were that dim.
Karl looked back over his shoulder at Leon. “There were two of them,” he said. “Both non-shifters. Spent some time lying here, and there’s indents left by something. Could have been a tripod. My guess is binoculars being held steady, but it’s a guess.”
Surmising that he was finally permitted to approach, Leon crouched and inspected the small depressions in the dirt that Karl was looking at. “Could be,” he said. He then looked over toward the ranch house. “I don’t know of any rifle that could shoot that far, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t one.”
“There isn’t,” Karl said. And goddamnit, Leon was going to smack him in the mouth if he kept being such a know-it-all. It was as if Karl realized that, for he offered an explanation, giving a slight one-shouldered shrug as he did so. “I served. Did some sniping in my time. We’re nearly three miles away in a straight line. Short of a missile, which would defeat the point by destroying everything it landed on, there isn’t anything that can reach that far. Yet.”
For the briefest instant as their gazes met, Leon felt they agreed, even if it was only on how fucked up the world was. It didn’t last, of course.
“You good for a long hunt?” Karl asked, standing up.
“No, I thought I’d come out for a stroll then go back home. What the hell do you think?”
Karl shrugged again. “I know jack shit about cats,” he said. “Wolves keep going, mile after mile. That’s all I meant.”
Leon shifted and with a bound was following the scent trail the two non-shifters had left, almost before Karl had finished speaking. He’d show that damned uppity wolf.
About the Author
Joy Lynn Fielding lives in a small English market town, where she indulges her passions for vintage aircraft, horse riding and gardening (though not all at the same time).
Joy tends to wax lyrical about the fascinating facts she discovers during her research for books. Thankfully, she has a very patient Labrador who has a gift for looking interested in what she’s saying while he waits for the food to arrive.
An actress with a secret, a journalist with a dream, and forbidden love that could change everything.
Blurb Desperate to save her family’s dying magazine, love is the last thing on 26-year-old Daphne Fernandez's mind when she agrees to go undercover as a makeup artist to scoop a juicy story on the city’s most popular telenovela star. But a spur-of-the-moment kiss makes it more complicated. A cheating boyfriend might not be Bombshell Bridget’s only secret.
Bridget Blake has only ever wanted one thing in her life: to be herself. But her overbearing momanger insists showing the world who she really is would mean the death of her blossoming career. So when the new makeup artist fights her way under Bridget’s perfectly moisturized, paparazzi-proof skin, it’s everything she can do to keep the façade in place. Until one spontaneous kiss turns her world upside down. With Daphne, Bridget is the brave, fun-loving, take-no-prisoners girl she’s always wanted to be. But embracing her new self may mean leaving behind everything she’s ever worked for. Is love really worth it?
Book two in the standalone sapphic celebrity romance series Entertaining Love.
Excerpt
A movement catches my attention as I hesitantly reach for a shimmering eyeshadow palette young woman with black curly hair and gold-rimmed glasses browses the store with ease. Her hands expertly select items from the shelves as she navigates the space in her manual wheelchair.
She looks up a second later, and her brown eyes meet mine with a flicker of recognition. She freezes, pursing her lips before finally rolling towards me with a warm smile.
“Hi there.” Her voice is soft and melodic with a hint of a Hispanic accent.. “Welcome to the Mystic Beauty. I couldn’t help but notice you look a bit lost. Can I help you find something?”
I adopt an affected Southern drawl. The last thing I need is for my stupidity about something as simple as make-up to be splattered all over the tabloids. “I, um, I’m just looking for some makeup…” Well, duh. I mentally facepalm myself. Why else would I be here? I pluck one from a nearby display and hold it up with an exaggerated flourish. “Clearly, I’m a bit lost.”
“Of course!” she replies, wheeling next to me and holding out her free hand. “I’m Daphne.”
“Nice to meet you, Daphne,” I say. “I’m… Sarah.”
“Sarah” is the first name that comes to mind, and I hope it’s generic enough not to invite suspicion. Daphne’s hand is warm and steady as she shakes mine, and I can’t help but be grateful for her genuine kindness.
“Alright, Sarah,” she says, releasing my hand and gesturing toward a display of eyeshadow palettes. “Let’s find you something that suits your style.”
As we navigate the aisles, Daphne explains different products and techniques easily. After a few minutes, I no longer feel like an idiot for asking one too many questions I should definitely already know the answer to after so many years in the film industry. But rather someone just trying to take the time to learn a new trade. The longer we wander through the aisles, the more. I find myself becoming intrigued by this mysterious woman who clearly has a passion for her craft.
“Can I ask about your makeup?” I ask, admiring the delicate lines of gold and silver that frame her brown eyes. “It’s stunning.”
“Thank you,” A blush colors her cheeks and I bite back a smile of my own. She’s cute when she’s flustered. “I’m an aspiring special effects makeup artist. I love playing with different styles and trying new things.”
“Wow,” I exhale softly. “That’s really amazing.” It’s not just her skill that impresses me, but the genuine joy in her expression. Just saying the word seems to light up the room, and I can’t help craving more of it from her. As we continue our conversation, I slowly lower my sunglasses, allowing Daphne to see my green eyes.
“By the way, if you ever need any help or advice in the future, feel free to reach out to me,” She hands me a small business card with her contact information. “You seem like someone who could use a friend.”
I take the card with a grateful smile.
“I may just have to take you up on that.” I wink, and we share a laugh. My heart skips a bit, and my chest as a blush pinkens her cheeks.
“Great!” Daphne smiles warmly as she expertly navigates her wheelchair down the aisles, pointing out more products and explaining their uses. I listen intently, absorbing every word like a sponge. “Primer is important for long-lasting makeup,” she explains, handing me a small tube to examine. “And don’t forget about setting powder!”
“Good to know,” I muse, turning the tub between my fingers. “You know my makeup artist was recently fired,” I confess quietly, glancing around and relieved to find out the store is mostly empty. “It’s been really frustrating trying to find someone new who understands my style.”
Daphne’s features soften with sympathy. “I’m sorry to hear that. What kind of look were you going for?”
I hesitate, dipping my head down and running my hands along my arms. “I’m… honestly not sure. I don’t know as much about makeup as I probably should.”
Her eyes light up, and she squeezes my hand. That’s OK. We can figure it out together. I actually have some ideas if you’re interested.”
“Really?” My heart flutters with anticipation. “I would love that.”
As we continue to explore the store, Daphne’s passion and creativity spark my own. I can’t help but feel drawn to her, her talent and kindness shining through with every word. The longer we talk, the more amazed I am that this woman barely knows me has already offered me more understanding and support than most people in my life.
“Thank you, Daphne,” I murmur, briefly taking her hand in mine. “You have no idea how much this means to me.”
“Of course.” As we stand between shelves of sparkling eyeshadows and vibrant lipsticks, I watch Daphne’s deft fingers pluck an iridescent shade from its perch. The glittering powder dusts her fingertips as she swipes it gently across my hand, creating a shimmering arc of color. “This would look amazing on you,” she says, grinning. “It’ll bring out the green in your eyes.”
“Wow, that’s beautiful,” I breathe, captivated by the way the light dances across the tiny flecks of pigment. “Do you really think I could pull it off?”
Daphne smiles bashfully and flicks her hand through the air. I’m sure you could pull anything off.” She laughs, and I can’t help but feel a flutter in my chest. The way her eyes crinkle at the corners and her lips curve into a smile… it’s all so enticing.
For the rest of the afternoon, Daphne guides me through the store, picking out different shades and colors for me to try on.
Daphne’s face lights up as we pause by a display of elaborate prosthetics. “I love special effects makeup,” she confesses as she gently fingers one of the masks. “It’s such a powerful way to transform someone and tell a story.”
“Really? Did you study it?”
Daphne nods, but her smile dims. “I did, but finding work has been difficult, especially because of my disability. Some people just can’t see past the wheelchair.”
A pulse of anger flares through me, but I stamp it down. This woman is a stranger. I remind myself. Still, I hate how judgmental people can be. “I’m sorry, Daphne. That’s so unfair.”
“Thank you.” Her brown eyes meet mine and my throat dries up. “But I won’t let it stop me. I know what I’m capable of, and someday, the right opportunity will come along.”
Her determination and resilience never cease to amaze me. Nodding I plant my hands on my hips. “I know it will.” Suddenly, an idea takes root in my mind. A bold, daring idea that could change both our lives. “Daphne,” I begin, my voice wavering with nerves. “I have a proposition for you.”
She tips her head to the side and I grin.
“Would you consider being my personal makeup artist?” The words tumble out before I can second-guess myself. “I know it’s not special effects, but I think together, we could create something amazing.”
The faint scent of lavender fills my nostrils as I watch Daphne’s eyes dart back and forth. Her fingers tap the armrest of her wheelchair, betraying her uncertainty.
“I… I don’t know, Bridget,” she hedges, looking down at her lap. “I’m so honored, but… I can’t I just started down at the warehouse and I can’t just abandon my crew.”
Oh. My heart sinks. “Of course. But if you change your mind…”
“Gracias.” Daphne smiles weakly, the gold rims of her glasses catching the store’s fluorescent lights.
“De nada,” I murmur softly, warmth blossoming in my chest.
“Now, let’s get back to finding the perfect makeup for you, shall we?”
The corners of her mouth lift into a genuine smile, and I watch as her hands deftly select products, her fingers moving with practiced ease despite the tremors that sometimes betray her. Her passion for her craft is evident in every gesture, and it only strengthens my belief that she’s the perfect person for the job.
“Thank you, Daphne, “I say as she bags up all my purchases a few minutes later.
She smiles, and my pulse speeds up again. “You’re welcome, Sarah. I’m just glad I could help.” She folds the last of my purchases into the bag and hands it over to me with a nod.
Daphne’s cheeks flame scarlet as I scrawl my number on her hand. “Here,” I say, trying not to let my embarrassment show. “If you ever change your mind, feel free to call or text any time.”
Her gaze flits between the numbers and me. Finally, she gives a small nod and murmurs her thanks. As I back away, feeling oddly proud of myself for taking such a risk, Daphne watches me go with an intensity that leaves me slightly breathless.
CHECK OUT THE OTHER BOOKS IN THE SERIES
Book Title: Love Among the Stars (Entertaining Love, Book 1)
Author: Claerie Kavanaugh
Publisher: Half Caff Press
Cover Artist: Cath Grace Designs
Release Date: March 19, 2023
Genre: Contemporary F/F Romance
Tropes: Matchmaker, Celebrity
Themes: Coming out
Heat Rating: 3 flames
Length: 40 000 words/ 250 pages
It is a standalone story and does not end on a cliffhanger.
Hollywood's best matchmaker may have finally met her match.
Blurb
Genevieve “Eve” Davis is Hollywood’s best, most sought-after matchmaker. Just about everyone in the City of Angels owes her for their happily ever afters. She’s been in the business for ten years and has never made a false move. The only person she hasn’t been able to hit with Cupid’s arrow? Herself.
Then Jemma, Hollywood’s most recent “it” girl, appears on her doorstep. But rather than having an extra bounce in her step, she looks like a dog just crapped all over her brand-new designer boots. The date Eve set up for her was anything but a fairy tale beginning. In fact, it was a downright disaster. The first bad review Eve has ever had. If she can’t fix this, her perfect reputation will be torn to shreds.
Even worse, the deeper she digs for that secret ingredient that will help her find Jemma’s perfect match, the harder she falls.
Book one in the standalone sapphic celebrity romance series ENTERTAINING LOVE
Love Beneath the Stars
A Matchmaker Wedding Novella
Book Title: Love Beneath the Stars: A Matchmaker Wedding Novella
Author: Claerie Kavanaugh
Publisher: Half Caff Press
Cover Artist: Lauren Dombrowski
Release Date: April 26, 2023
Genres: Contemporary F/F Romance
Tropes: Age gap, celebrity, matchmaker, wedding
Themes: Coming out, forgiveness
Heat Rating: 3 flames
Length: 30 000 words
It is a standalone story in the Entertaining Love series.
They say love conquers all, but what if getting it means losing your family?
Blurb
After years of searching, a job gone wrong finally led Hollywood's most famous matchmaker Eve to her soulmate in up-and-coming starlet Jemma Mason. For a year, they had pictured their perfect destination Valentine's Day wedding. But when Jemma's family arrives from Montana, they quickly learn perfection is hard to come by.
Jemma's conservative brother has always been distant, but when he meets his sister's fiancée, who is seven years her senior, he worries she’s moving way too fast and refuses to come to the wedding, let alone keep his promise to walk her down the aisle. Can love really conquer all, or are there some wounds that simply run too deep to be buried?
Eve and Jemma's Wedding Novella. Sequel to LOVE AMONG THE STARS in the standalone sapphic celebrity romance series ENTERTAINING LOVE.
About the Author
Claerie Kavanaugh has spent most of her life telling stories, but she never imagined herself writing romance. In fact, she used to think it should only be reserved for Hallmark movies. It wasn't until college, when she discovered fanfiction, that she learned what romance was truly about: not just fluffy relationships and happily-ever-afters, but human connection, the desire to push one another to be better, and create hope that somewhere, somehow, everyone has someone.
When she's not writing, she loves to travel and explore new cultures, helping other authors polish their works as a freelance editor, and singing while doing so. Broadway musicals are her soul-food, something her mother and sister know well. She constantly blasts the newest soundtrack through the halls of their Missouri home, much to the chagrin of her very sassy and spoiled cat.
The Lone Family is a dark and gritty M/M mafia romance series featuring the enemies to lovers trope and the forced proximity trope between dangerous men in the criminal underworld.
This steamy trilogy is best read in order.
Genre: Contemporary M/M Dark Romance
Overall Heat Rating for the series: 5 flames
The books are best read in order.
BOOK DETAILS
BOOK 1
He’ll rebel at every chance he gets, even if it means sleeping with the enemy.
Book Title: His Playmate (A dark M/M enemies to lovers mafia romance)
Author and Publisher: Ace Fawn
Cover Artist: The Book Brander
Length: 21 054 words/90 pages
Release Date: February 1, 2023
Tropes: Enemies to Lovers, Forced Proximity
Themes: Mafia, Gangster, Kidnapping, BDSM, Age Gap
It is a standalone story and does not end on a cliffhanger.
One mistake has twisted Diego Montosa’s world into darkness.
He kidnapped Wolf Lone’s only son, and the same thing has now happened to him.
Diego has been taken captive by an irresistible yakuza boss, broken down, and turned into his personal plaything …
Wolf is ruthless, subjecting his new pet to painful punishments and addictive pleasures. But Diego is a vicious young gang leader and will rebel at every chance he gets … even if it means sleeping with the enemy.
Content Warning: This book contains BDSM, spanking, impact play, dubious consent, collaring, restraints, age-gap relationships, kidnapping, and violence. Reader discretion is advised.
BOOK 2
Book Title: His Bodyguard
Author and Publisher: Ace Fawn
Cover Artist: The Book Brander
Length: 21 014 words/89 pages
Release Date: March 1, 2023
Genre: Contemporary M/M Dark Romance
Tropes: Bodyguard Crush, Forced Proximity
Themes: Mafia, Forbidden Love, Age Gap
It is a standalone story and does not end on a cliffhanger.
Levi never wanted a bodyguard, but when he has a run-in with the police, his father hires a bodyguard to keep him out of trouble. Nick is handsome and protective, and Levi develops a crush on him. But Levi isn’t allowed to date his bodyguard, let alone sleep with him.
Nick isn’t supposed to be attracted to the boss’s son. They have to keep their relationship professional, and Nick can’t let his feelings get in the way of his duties. But when Levi kisses him, Nick doesn’t want to hold back anymore.
One thing leads to another, and Levi gets Nick into his bed. They must keep their forbidden affair a secret, but that’s not easy to do when Levi has already let Nick into his heart and isn’t willing to let him go … even if they get caught.
BOOK 3
Book Title: His Challenger
Author and Publisher: Ace Fawn
Length: 19 130 words/82 pages
Release Date: March 31, 2023
Tropes: Enemies to Lovers, Forced Proximity, Found Family
Themes: Mafia, Kidnapping, Age Gap
It is a standalone story and does not end on a cliffhanger
Trained to be a lethal assassin since he was a child, Mathew is assigned one final test from his boss: to kill his brother, Diego. But when Mathew fails the mission and is caught, he is held captive by the enemy for questioning.
All Rex needs to do is make sure Mathew doesn’t escape. But Mathew fights back and proves he is a force to be reckoned with. Rex is consumed by a strong desire to dominate Mathew and to make the enemy his own. Rex must stay in control, but the longer he and Mathew are alone together, the harder it is for Rex to resist the sexy assassin.
Dangerous men, especially killers, are not supposed to love each other. Mathew knows he shouldn’t be attracted to the enemy, but he develops a hunger for his captor that he hasn’t experienced before … and Mathew can’t deny himself any longer.
Trigger Warning: This book contains explicit sexual content, spanking, age-gap relationships, kidnapping, dubious consent, self-harm/attempted suicide, and violence. Reader discretion is advised.
Excerpt for His Playmate
Diego was stopped from leaving Wolf’s bed by a handcuff around his wrist. He had sat leaning against the headrest for the entire day, his body throbbing and his feet aching.
The warmly lit bedroom was large with a connecting bathroom and walk-in wardrobe. It had wide-paned windows that looked out into the darkness. Diego chewed on his lower lip, growing agitated. A cigarette would be nice, especially out on the balcony in the cool night air.
This was some sort of mental torture. Wolf was treating Diego like he was nothing more than a captive. Diego didn’t have much energy left; Wolf was purposely weakening him. Wolf was forcing Diego to be reliant on him. Diego didn’t like being dependent on anyone because it made him powerless. As much as Diego hated to acknowledge it, Wolf had dominated him, and Diego had already submitted.
The door opened, and Wolf walked into the bedroom, a riding crop in hand. Diego couldn’t stop his body from involuntarily tensing, and he narrowed his eyes at the weapon.
“And I thought you had forgotten about me,” Diego said, his tone sarcastic.
“How could I? You’re all I think about,” Wolf said, mocking him.
Diego rolled his eyes. “Get lost.”
Wolf stopped by the bed, never taking his gaze off Diego as he asked, “Did you think about what you’ve done?”
Diego glared at him, but he didn’t say anything. He had tried not to focus on what had happened because losing brought him a great deal of shame. But the memories of what he’d experienced at Wolf’s hands kept filling his mind anyway. Diego had realized that Wolf was always a step ahead of him.
“Diego …”
“Yes, I have,” Diego said bitterly.
“Are you going to strike at me again?” Wolf asked.
“No.”
Wolf looked pleased. “Good. If I’d known the cane would make you submit, I would have used it on you earlier, pet.”
A spike of heat shot through Diego’s body and pooled in his groin. Diego had slept with plenty of men in the past, but no one had taken ownership over him the way that Wolf did. Diego had gotten used to taking care of himself and being independent. The thought of losing his freedom was terrifying. His captor was a threat in more ways than just punishments. “Stop calling me that.”
“You seem to like it,” Wolf said.
There was a small part of Diego that did like it. Because of the way Wolf said it … his voice deep and smooth. The word seemed to roll off of Wolf’s tongue naturally. There was a hint of something in Wolf’s tone when he called Diego his pet, and it wasn’t hate. But it was his enemy saying it to him, and Diego knew that he shouldn’t want to belong to Wolf.
Diego kept eye contact with Wolf, and it was starting to stir up a feeling of vulnerability in him. Here Diego was, naked and chained to a bed, his captor looming over him with a dark smile on his lips and a riding crop in his hand. No one had done this to Diego before, and that unnerved him
About the Author
Ace Fawn writes sometimes dark and always steamy contemporary M/M romance featuring mafia and billionaires.
An avid reader of M/M romance, she loves books about D/s relationships, the enemies-to-lovers trope, and the forced proximity trope, and tends to involve these themes in her own writing.
One weekend could lead to forever if Jett can take the plunge.
Blurb
Jett didn’t expect to spend the weekend trapped in a remote holiday house with his best friend’s brother. As they try to pass the time, Kian’s bright enthusiasm starts to break through Jett’s gruff defences. When Kian offers to help Jett explore his desires with no strings attached, everything changes.
Fooling around when your heart isn’t on the line is one thing, but when the weekend ends, neither man wants their casual arrangement to end. Past betrayal has made Jett wary of trusting anyone, but even though Kian’s patience seems to be never-ending, Jett knows it’s only a matter of time before ‘no strings’ turns into ‘goodbye’.
Can Jett look past his fear and make the man who’s claimed his heart his?
Take the Plunge is a standalone contemporary M/M romance where a jaded man with a permanent storm cloud over his head falls for a sunshiny optimist. There’s forced proximity, an interfering best friend, swoony moonlight swimming, bi-sexual exploration, and lots of first times.
Excerpt
My head is fucking killing me. My mouth feels like it’s been stuffed full of mothballs. I’m lying on my right side, and that arm is numb. A click echoes through the house. Was that someone closing a door? I wipe my left hand over my face and open my eyes. It’s too dark to see anything.
What the fuck happened last night?
Something whines. Door hinges?
Oh, right. I’m at Rufus’s holiday home in the middle of nowhere. Okay, so it’s not actually his. The house belongs to his granddad, but Rufus is allowed to use it when his granddad isn’t here fishing. The front door hinges have needed oiling for as long as I’ve been coming up here with Rufus and his family.
When we were kids, his family invited me here for a week every summer. Rufus, his younger brother, Kian, and I would go wandering for hours, exploring the woods, chasing each other through meadows of long grass and flowers, and sitting by the lake with our legs dangling in the water. I have lots of good memories of this tiny corner of Scotland.
But reminiscing won’t solve the mystery of my aching head.
The door closes. It’s either the middle of the night or so early the sun hasn’t come up yet, so I’m unsure who’s going where.
I, Rufus, Kian, and some of our friends are here for a weekend of drinking and lazing around. Well, they can laze around. I have work to do as soon as I find some paracetamol and a gallon of water to shift this headache.
A car engine turns on. What the fuck? Tyres crunch over gravel, and then it gets quieter. I try to turn towards the window, but something pulls against my right wrist. Someone groans. I try to move my arm again. Clink. Rattle. Something hard but also soft circles my wrist. What. The. Actual. Fuck?
I twist and flail around, groping for a lamp or a light switch. My neck clicks, and my back aches with the effort. Another groan, a little louder than before. I skid my fingers over a piece of paper before finding a bedside lamp. I flick it on. A golden glow fills the room, and I shut my eyes against the harsh light.
Another groan. “Well, that’s bright.”
Hold up. I recognise that voice.
My right wrist is tugged to the side. Clink.
“Huh,” the voice says.
I rub my eyes and prie them open. I’m lying face-to-face with Kian. Our right hands lie on the pillow between us. Pink fur circles our wrists.
“Huh,” Kian repeats. He lifts his wrist, pulling mine with him. “This must be someone’s idea of a joke.” He kneads his forehead with his fingertips. “So this is what a hangover feels like. I don’t recommend it.”
“Too late.”
“That sucks for us both.” He yawns and closes his eyes.
“Who the fuck would do this?”
Kian shrugs. “Probably Rufus. He never matured past sixteen.”
I sit, dragging Kian upright with me. “Where’s the key?”
Kian tugs me down again. “We can look for it after we’ve slept off these hangovers. Rufus will have it.”
I grunt. “I don’t want to go back to sleep. I want to get these damn things off. What the fuck are they anyway?”
“Handcuffs.”
“I can see that.”
“Why’d you ask, then?”
“Why are they pink? And furry?”
About the Author
Colette’s personal love story began at university, where she met her future husband. An evening of flirting, in the shadow of Lancaster castle, eventually led to a fairytale wedding. She’s enjoying her own ‘happy ever after’ in the north of England with her husband, two beautiful children and her writing.
“Why do I get the feeling that Christopher is the type of man that would make the perfect husband for any woman and, at the same time, the perfect wife for any man?” Laura says shortly after Christopher begins his new job at the TV station. Laura’s statement would turn out to hold more truth than she could imagine. No one who meets Christopher, especially not Laura, as well as David, a gay man he meets at a party, understands what it is about him that draws them to him. They also don’t realize that Christopher is searching for something, a search complicated by their desires for him.
Excerpt
I began to question accepting Laura’s invitation when I heard the noise coming from the backyard as we approached the house. I disliked crowds, and it sounded like an immense crowd was on the other side of the gate.
People were everywhere—seated on lounge chairs scattered around the patio or at the rectangular dining table or milling about in various groups—talking loudly over the blaring music. Laura’s voice broke through the noise.
“I don’t see Peter anywhere. He might be inside. Shall we find him?”
“By all means. I would feel uncomfortable attending his party without meeting him.”
I followed Laura into the house. As we passed through the living room, my eyes fell on a few framed photos of a handsome couple on the wall.
In the kitchen, a solitary male figure was removing a tray of croissants from the oven.
“Hello, Peter.”
As he turned around, I recognized Peter as one of the men in the photos. Tall and slender, with dark hair and a mustache waxed into handlebars, there was a dapperness to him that I found pleasing.
“Hey, Laura. Lovely to see you!”
After setting the hot tray down, Peter hugged her.
“Peter, I want you to meet Christopher. He just moved here from Seattle and works with me at the station.”
“How do you do, Peter?“
Having grown used to the reaction my presence caused, I smiled patiently as Peter, unable to speak right away, shook my offered hand.
“I hope you do not mind my crashing your party. Laura assured me that you would not object to her bringing me.”
“No, of course, I don’t mind.”
The words tumbled out one on top of the other.
“Is there anything we can do to assist you?”
“No, I have it all under control, thanks. Please help yourself to the food and drinks out on the patio.”
“We will. Thanks,” Laura said, taking my arm and steering me back through the living room.
“Peter is very nice,” I commented as we stepped through the doors and headed towards the drinks table. “Can I make you something?”
“A mimosa, thanks. Yes, Peter’s a sweetie.”
We stood sipping our drinks as I scanned the crowd of mostly men, a mix of young and old, before Laura took me around, introducing me to the people she knew.
I instinctively searched their eyes for the essence of another while ignoring Laura’s scrutinizing gaze.
Laura needed to use the bathroom, so she left me standing under the large Ficus tree where we had sought shade from the sun. Within minutes of her departure, I was surrounded by a large group of people vying for my attention. Carrying on multiple conversations was challenging, but I did my best to make each person feel they had my full attention.
He caught my attention on the periphery of my vision: tall and well-built, resembling the small statue of the god Mars that sat on the table in Joseph’s shop. Our eyes met, and I felt my heart skip a beat, seeing something flash in his eyes. Smiling hopefully, I extended my hand to him.
“Hello, my name is Christopher Dunn.”
As he shook my hand, I took the opportunity to search his golden-brown eyes. My initial hope turned to disappointment, for while something was there, it was not another’s essence. Though disappointed, I was intrigued.
“Davidmartelli.”
He slurred the two names into one in his haste to get the words out.
As I gazed into his eyes, the feeling of a purpose to our meeting appeared—first Laura and now David.
“It is a pleasure to meet you, David Martelli,” I said, saying his name distinctly.
David blushed attractively, causing a twinge in my heart.
“Can I get you a drink?”
He looked so crestfallen when I held up my cup that I was tempted to down my drink and ask him for another.
“Oh, you have one.”
“I do, but I appreciate you asking.”
I gave him a smile to back up my words. It was apparent that David was struggling to find something to say, the frustration evident in his handsome features. I wanted to get him away from the people surrounding us and talk to him alone, but I did not see how I could do so without offending everyone else.
Conscious of the eyes watching us, David blushed again and backed away.
For some reason, I knew that this behavior was out of character for him. Watching him walk away, I hoped we would meet again as I wanted to discover what I saw in his eyes.
About the Author
Stephen Hardy was born in the San Francisco Bay Area but grew up in the Pacific Northwest. His career as a fashion designer took him back to San Francisco before he headed to New York City, where he met his husband of twenty years. Tiring of the hectic pace of the fashion industry, Stephen gave up his career to become a stay-at-home dad for his and his husband’s two adopted sons and a quiet life in Connecticut. Now residing in Phoenix, Arizona, and with the kids grown, Stephen returned to university, where he rediscovered his love for writing. His focus is on contemporary fiction, examining social issues regarding gender, sexuality, and relationships. Search for Complete is his first novel, and a sequel is expected in early 2024.
Alex has everything going for him. He’s the quarterback of the football team. He has a great group of friends. He’s popular. He’s got stellar grades. So, why is he so enamored by the new kid from the Bay Area?
Meanwhile, Jamie doesn’t understand why the quarterback of Scalia’s football team could possibly want to be friends with him: the closeted Jewish kid. It’s the last thing he needs to worry about after leaving California for Jacksonville. He planned on just keeping his head down and finishing his senior year quietly to get into his dream school.
Against the odds, though, they become close friends in an area that would teach them to be enemies. But, over time, their friendship turns into something deeper – scaring the both of them. Will their love survive the trials of being in a homophobic environment? Or will it all prove to be too much for them?
Excerpt
I’ve been in Florida less than a day and already I’m in a life or death standoff. The gator stares at me, his eyes glowing against the moonlight. I stare at the gator, my eyes wild with fear. Shit, I’m gonna die.
He could have been small as a chihuahua or large as Godzilla, but in my California brain he was the most terrifying thing I’d seen in my life. This was not how I expected my senior year to start.
Me dying was the cherry on top, really.
It wasn’t like I had much to live for anymore, after leaving the Bay Area and all. My friends. My childhood. My family. It was all gone now. I had come out just a month before, ready to live my truth in an accepting area until...poof.
“We’re moving,” my mother had told me. “To Florida.”
“Just like that?” I’d asked her.
“Just like that,” she’d told me.
“Why?” I’d prodded, hoping maybe there could be some solution to this unbearable fate. There wasn’t.
We weren’t even in Miami either. We were in Jacksonville. Not even in Jacksonville, an hour away in some nowhere suburb called Scalia – whatever the heck that is. San Francisco to Scalia: the name of my personal horror movie.
My parents were architects. Their company decided to move them to Florida. I was suddenly in Florida. Suddenly about to become the dumbest news headline possible: LOCAL GAY KID DIES FROM GATOR. That simple, I guess.
My heart leapt towards my throat.
His tail, is it...moving?
The gator began walking, or waddling, or slithering – whatever it is gators do when they move – away from me. I stood beside my bike, nearly ready to collapse from fear and adrenaline. Finally, he crawled out of sight – back to the depths of whatever abyss from which he came.
I let out a sigh, almost sad to live another day. I got back on my bike, slowly peddling back home, tears lining my path.
I was sad. Sad about everything. Sad about leaving my friends behind. Sad about leaving my family behind. Sad about no longer being in a Jewish area. Sad about no longer being in an accepting area.
I wasn’t only sad, either. I was scared. Terrified, even. My whole life people had talked about the south like it was some far off universe, some faraway hell the Bay Area would forever be safe from. I had heard stories of how unaccepting it was, how women couldn’t choose what happens to their bodies, gay people couldn’t be teachers, trans students were expelled. Now here I was: in the south. In Florida. Back in the closet.
My eyes were red from tears by the time they stared at my bedroom ceiling, my pillow resting against my neck. I had only a week before I started school at Scalia High. What would that be like? Visions of people with confederate flags, driving trucks, and listening to country music came to my mind and immediately I was near tears once more. I wasn’t sure about many things, but I was certain of this: nothing good would come of this year.
About the Author
I'm a staunch advocate for lgbt rights. I'm originally from Melbourne, Florida. I am a board member for colectiva queer and a founder of the political action group Florida Fighting Fascism. I have worked with the Brevard Democratic Party, Equality Florida (twice), Congressman Darren Soto, and am a current fellow with People for Power Florida. I am a current student at Brown University studying political science. At university, I am part of the philosophy, politics, and economics society and the Brown Debating Union. I have written for Queerty, OutTraveler, and Florida Today. I am the author of the young adult gay romance novel entitled Butterflies In The End Zone (2023).
Tell us a little about yourself and your writing goals
Hi!! My name is Jacob Gelman and I am the author of the debut novel Butterflies In The End Zone. I currently attend Brown University and study political science. I would love to one day be traditionally published :)
Congratulations on your new release. Please tell us a little bit about it. What’s your favorite aspect or part of the story? Do you have a favorite character? Who/Why?
So my story is about Jamie, a Jewish kid from San Francisco, who moves to a suburb outside of Jacksonville. He’s totally a fish out of water. Well, anyways, Alex – the quarterback of the high school football team – ends up befriending Jamie and it tells the story of the two of them falling for one another. I love Alex, he’s my book boyfriend.
Are you a planner or a pantser? How much do you know about your story before you start writing? How often does your plan change? Why does this work best for you?
Definitely a planner. I can’t even begin writing without a full outline. But the outline does change as I add or remove scenes and as the story changes.
Do deadlines motivate you or block you? How do you deal with them?
Deadlines. Well. Hmm. Deadlines are a tricky thing. I really don’t know. I guess they motivate me?
Do you schedule a certain amount of time for writing each day/week, or do you just work it in when you can? Would you like to change this, or does your current method work well for you?
I schedule an hour a day.
What was the most difficult part of writing this book? Why?
The rewrites. They were rough, and receiving criticism to the extent that you have to rewrite the entire book is never fun.
How do you develop a story idea? Do you always use the same method? Specifically, which do you develop first in your story building, the characters or the plot?
I usually come up with a kernel of a story, then tell it to my sister and she makes it pop.
What are your favorite genres when it comes to your own pleasure reading? Do you prefer to read ebooks or print?
Ebooks for sure. I love romance, and due to Fourth Wing I think I may be a fantasy girly.
Does writing energize or exhaust you?
Exhaust.
If you could tell your younger writing self anything, what would it be?
Don’t listen to the haters.
What is the best money you ever spent as an author?
An editor.
What is your favorite underappreciated novel?
Either The Humans or Bright Lights Big City.
What did you edit out of this book?
A lot. Too much to tell. There was a dead brother in the first draft.
What were your goals for this book? Did you achieve them?
To make just one person feel seen. I hope I achieved that.
What do you think about when you’re alone in your car?
