Grab my button!
Member of ZART
#AADSAV spotlight: Excerpt from “The Good Fight” by Andrew Grey
Jerry Lincoln has a problem: his Sioux Falls IT consulting business has more work than one man can handle. Luckily, that means he can hire some help. Jerry just hopes his new employee, John Black Raven, ends up being more helpful than distracting—but John’s deep eyes and long hair are very distracting.
John came to town for an education and a chance at a life he couldn’t have on the reservation, but what’s important to him now is getting a job and keeping it. Six months ago, his sister died, and now her children are in foster care. Despite having the law on his side, John can’t get custody—can’t even see his niece and nephew.
As Jerry and John grow closer, John discovers he doesn’t have to struggle alone. Jerry helps him win visitation rights and provides much-needed support. Yet their victories aren’t without setbacks. Child Services is tangled up with money, politics, and red tape, and Native American children are their bread and butter. But John and Jerry are determined to fight the good fight and to win—in more ways than one.
- Publisher: Dreamspinner Press (September 2, 2012)
- Language: English
- ASIN: B0095HIWNQ
- Purchase links:
- Dreamspinner
- Amazon
- Barnes & Noble
“Yes. He’s shutting down his computer,” John said, and I was about to get up when I heard what sounded like sniffles. Cracking my eyes open, I saw a kid in shorts and a T-shirt shuffling down the sidewalk, looking all around, sniffing.
“Mama,” he called, and I watched as he continued walking closer to the house. “Mama,” he called again. The sniffles got louder, and as he came closer I could see tears running down his cheeks. I stood up, walked down the steps, and went slowly out toward the sidewalk, where I knelt down in front of him as I heard thunder sound in the distance. I saw him jump. “Mama!” he yelled, and I touched his arm to calm him.
“What’s wrong?” I asked him, looking into huge dark eyes and a dark, round face framed by jet-black hair. I heard the door of one of the neighbors’ houses snap closed.
“That’s one of them injun kids. Just leave him alone.” I turned and glared at old Mr. Hooper, anger boiling inside me. He’d been a grouch and a certified pain in the ass for as long as I could remember, but this was the first time in my life that I contemplated hitting the old bastard. Instead I ignored him.
“Are you lost?” I asked him, and the kid sniffled and nodded. “What’s your name?”
“Keyan,” he answered, and I looked at John and then back at the boy.
“It’s going to be all right. I’m Jerry and this is—” I was about to say “John” when he interrupted me.
“Akecheta,” John said, and the boy sniffed once, and his eyes widened as if he were seeing John for the first time. Thunder sounded again, and the breeze, which had been blowing softly, picked up, whistling through the trees and around the house.
“Why don’t you sit with us on the porch,” I told Keyan. “Your mother is probably trying to find you.” I figured she was probably looking frantically, and Keyan’s wandering wasn’t helping. If she didn’t show up soon, I’d call the police. He nodded as lightning flashed, followed by more thunder. Keyan jumped and squeaked before hurrying up onto the porch. He stood near one of the front railings looking up and down the street, eyes scanning for his mother. Bryce came out, and I saw him and John talking before both of them sat down.
“You two can head home. I’ll take care of things,” I told them. Bryce peered toward the west, and I knew he was wondering whether he was going to get home before the storm hit. “Go on, Bryce. We’ll review things in the morning.” He nodded and said good night to both of us before hurrying to the driveway and into his car.
The first drops of rain hit the sidewalk as Bryce’s taillights faded from view. The wind picked up, and I gently moved Keyan further back on the porch as the sky opened up. “I’d better call the police,” I told John, and he placed his hand on my arm to stop me from going inside, shaking his head.
“Don’t,” John said. “She’ll be here soon.”
I was beginning to have doubts about that, but agreed to wait a few more minutes. As I was digging into my pocket for the phone, I heard a cry from the street, and the boy raced toward the edge of the porch. John stopped him, and a few seconds later a woman had the boy in her arms. He was crying, and she looked soaked to the skin as she rocked her son back and forth. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere,” she scolded nervously before crushing him into a hug once more.
The rain came down harder, pounding the ground and pavement. “Please have a seat until the rain stops,” I told her, and she nodded, sitting on one of the wooden chairs with her son close by.
“He wandered off and I’ve been looking for him all over,” she explained, and I wanted to ask what had happened, but like any mother, she just seemed relieved to have found him. I turned to John and then went inside and returned with a towel that I handed to her. She dried her face and hands before handing the towel back.
“Thank you for the towel, and for helping Keyan,” she said, and I took a minute to really look at her. She was a striking woman with pronounced cheekbones and huge eyes, with black hair pulled back into braids that hung down her back. She could have been a movie star, she was so striking.
“You’re welcome. We found him fifteen minutes ago, and he’d just had a bit of a fright,” I said, and she smiled, staring out into the rain. We didn’t talk much, and when the rain let up, she lifted Keyan into her arms, and after saying thank you once again, she hurried off down the street.
“That was a nice thing you did. Thank you,” John told me, and I turned to look at him, confused. “You helped her.” John looked toward the neighboring porch where old man Hooper looked back at us. “Too many people are like him.” John inclined his head, and I felt my righteous indignation rising.
“Dumb old fuck,” I muttered. I usually don’t swear, but I couldn’t stop it this time. “John, do you mind if I ask a few questions? I don’t mean anything by them, but they may not sound politically correct.”
“You may ask anything,” John said a bit warily. The rain picked up a bit, and the sky darkened once more. It was early evening, but it seemed later in the darkness.
“Is everyone from your tribe beautiful?” I realized how that sounded and shook my head. “Not that I’ve met many Native Americans, but the lady, her son… you.” I knew I sounded like an idiot and wished I’d simply kept my mouth shut.
“You think I’m beautiful?” John asked, and I saw him move closer, a smile on his face, as I nodded. My heart beat a staccato rhythm in my chest, and John’s rich scent mixed with the fresh smell of the rain. John moved still closer. “I think you’re very handsome,” John told me, our gazes meeting. I could have lost myself in the soul-deep eyes that stared back at me.
I shook my head slowly. “I’m pale and scrawny,” I whispered, not wanting to break the spell his eyes held me under. “You’re dark and strong.” I wanted to touch and find out if his cheek was as soft and smooth as it looked and if his lips tasted as rich and earthy as the scent on his breath and the muskiness that flowed off him like the rainwater. I could feel my body being pulled toward him, my fantasies and longing overriding my brain. John drew closer, and I knew I shouldn’t be doing this, but I wanted to kiss him more than anything.
“Did that injun kid find its mother?”
I backed away from John with a stifled groan and glared across at the other front porch. I could feel John tense next to me, like he was getting ready to launch himself at my neighbor. “You know, Mr. Hooper,” I began calmly, “it’s better to remain quiet and appear stupid than to open your mouth and remove all doubt!” By the end, my words snapped out of my mouth, and I think the old fart got the message, because he stood up, shaking, his eyes trying to burn a hole through me. With a grunt, he pulled open his front door and went inside, the screen slapping closed behind him. When I turned back to John, I caught a glimpse of a shocked look that quickly morphed into a smile.
Review: The Good Fight by Andrew Grey
Jerry Lincoln has a problem: his Sioux Falls IT consulting business has more work than one man can handle. Luckily, that means he can hire some help. Jerry just hopes his new employee, John Black Raven, ends up being more helpful than distracting—but John’s deep eyes and long hair are very distracting.
John came to town for an education and a chance at a life he couldn’t have on the reservation, but what’s important to him now is getting a job and keeping it. Six months ago, his sister died, and now her children are in foster care. Despite having the law on his side, John can’t get custody—can’t even see his niece and nephew.
As Jerry and John grow closer, John discovers he doesn’t have to struggle alone. Jerry helps him win visitation rights and provides much-needed support. Yet their victories aren’t without setbacks. Child Services is tangled up with money, politics, and red tape, and Native American children are their bread and butter. But John and Jerry are determined to fight the good fight and to win—in more ways than one.
- Publisher: Dreamspinner Press (September 2, 2012)
- ASIN: B0095HIWNQ
- FTC Disclosure: copy provided by the author for the purposes of an honest review
My Dreamspinner wishlist
|
||
 |
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
 |
An Unconventional Courtship by Scotty Cade eBook Release Date: October 12, 2012 Price: $6.99 Tristan Moreau loves his job as chief administrative officer and personal assistant to Webber Kincaid, President, Chairman, and CEO of Kincaid International. It would be the perfect job… if only he hadn’t fallen in love with his boss as well as the work. After two years, he’s still doing everything in his power to keep his feelings hidden—mostly because he wants to protect the reputation of his famous boss but also because he wants to keep his job. Webber Kincaid has stayed in the closet, using his best friend and confidante as his beard. Everything in his life was working out just fine until he met Tristan Moreau. Within months, Tristan stole his heart and became his lifeline. But Webber knows the rules of the workplace better than anyone, so he’s kept his distance. But two years is too long to wonder “what if?”—especially when business takes them to a private Caribbean island. When Tristan and Webber succumb to the tropical heat, their professionalism starts to backslide. It’s a seemingly impossible relationship, making a go at it under the paparazzi’s microscope. It may be the best—or the worst—business decision they ever made. |
Ask the Gay Romance Author with Andrew Grey (volume 1)
Welcome to the first edition of Ask the Gay Romance Author featuring the fantastic Andrew Grey! Once a month, I will post the questions that were sent to me with Andrew’s questions. If you have a question for Andrew, please fill out the form below!
3) What is the most demeaning thing said about you as a writer? There’s a commenter on a certain review site that every time I get a good review, she comments right away that my books aren’t for her. (What a *itch) Not everything is for everyone, but there’s no cause to be mean.
4) How do you react to a bad review of one of your books? I sluff it off. Reviews are opinions and everyone has one and everyone thinks theirs doesn’t stink.
5) Are the names of the characters in your novels important? Some are and some aren’t. I will confess that mostly I pick the names because of their sound and feel. I do tend to name villains after people who piss me off.
6) What about the titles of your novels? My partner Dominic is the master of titles. He had developed many of them. Sometimes they come to be while I’m writing, but mostly he reads the stories and develops the titles. As an example, Redemption by Fire was Dominic’s title. My working title was Redemption of and Asshole.
Andrew grew up in western Michigan with a father who loved to tell stories and a mother who loved to read them. Since then he has lived throughout the country and traveled throughout the world. He has a master’s degree from the University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee and works in information systems for a large corporation. Andrew’s hobbies include collecting antiques, gardening, and leaving his dirty dishes anywhere but in the sink (particularly when writing) He considers himself blessed with an accepting family, fantastic friends, and the world’s most supportive and loving partner. Andrew currently lives in beautiful, historic Carlisle, Pennsylvania.
He loves to hear from readers. Comments, thoughts, and questions are always encouraged and appreciated. Please e-mail him at the following address:
Have a question for m/m romance author Andrew Grey?
Do you have a question for Andrew Grey that you’re dying to ask? He’ll be here on MKR at least once a month (maybe twice!) answering your questions! You can either email me or fill out the form below to ask him anything!
Interview, Excerpt, & GIVEAWAY with Andrew Grey
I had the genuine pleasure of meeting Andrew Grey at AADNOLA this year, and I cannot wait to see him again at AAD Savannah in 2013. He’s such a joy to be around and so much fun to chat with. When he told me about his new book, The Good Fight, I practically begged him to send me a copy. Luckily, he loves me and he did. And I loved it (review will be posted tomorrow)! So today, I’ve got an excerpt from Andrew’s fabulous book, an interview with the man himself, AND he’s letting me give away a copy of any book from his backlist! Can this day get any better???
Jerry Lincoln has a problem: his Sioux Falls IT consulting business has more work than one man can handle. Luckily, that means he can hire some help. Jerry just hopes his new employee, John Black Raven, ends up being more helpful than distracting—but John’s deep eyes and long hair are very distracting.
John came to town for an education and a chance at a life he couldn’t have on the reservation, but what’s important to him now is getting a job and keeping it. Six months ago, his sister died, and now her children are in foster care. Despite having the law on his side, John can’t get custody—can’t even see his niece and nephew.
As Jerry and John grow closer, John discovers he doesn’t have to struggle alone. Jerry helps him win visitation rights and provides much-needed support. Yet their victories aren’t without setbacks. Child Services is tangled up with money, politics, and red tape, and Native American children are their bread and butter. But John and Jerry are determined to fight the good fight and to win—in more ways than one.
- Publisher: Dreamspinner Press (September 2, 2012)
- Language: English
- ASIN: B0095HIWNQ
- Purchase links:
- Dreamspinner
- Amazon
- Barnes & Noble
What do you do when you are not writing? I garden and Dominic and I collect antiques. We also travel when we can and once a year during the winter, we cruise to warmer weather for a week.
When did you first start writing and when did you finish your first book? I started my first book in January 2007. It took about two months to write and it was published in May 2008. Master of the Revels is no longer in print, but I will send an electronic copy to anyone who writes and asks for one.
Where do you get your ideas? From life. My ideas come from everywhere around me. Sometimes I get ideas form news stories, documentaries, friends, works of art. I’ve been very lucky in that ideas keep coming to me all the time.
Do you ever experience writer’s block? Not so far, knock wood.
Are you a plotter or a pantser? I am very much a pantser. I begin with an idea and see where it takes me. I often have a vague idea of where the story will go and other than that, I let the characters take me where they will.
Is there any particular author or book that influenced you in any way either growing up or as an adult? I always loved to read and read a lot form the time I was a child. There wasn’t a particular book that influenced me, but books in general.
Can you tell us about your challenges in getting your first book published? It was a bit of an ordeal because I was taken advantage of. I realized what was happening and thankfully found Dreamspinner for my second book and have been happy ever since.
If you had to go back and do it all over, is there any aspect of your novel or getting it published that you would change? Yes. If I could do it over, I’d find another publisher.
How do you market your work? What avenues have you found to work best for your genre? I use Facebook, Twitter, a web site, blog. I also attend a number of conventions and try to visit different areas of the country.
Have you written a book you love that you have not been able to get published? No. All my work is currently published.
Can you tell us about The Good Fight and what inspired you to write it? The Good Fight was inspired by a Lakota grandmother who was trying to gain custody of her grandchildren. The story moved me so much that I couldn’t let it go and within months I’d written The Good Fight.
What were the challenges in bringing The Good Fight to life (in print)? The biggest challenge was dealing with the emotions that story brought out in me. It was a hard story to write, but I’m immensely pleased I did.
How did you go about researching for The Good Fight? A lot of time on the internet. My partner and I also have friends who are Native American and they were a great help.
What was your favorite chapter (or part) to write and why? I love the parts of the story when the villain gets their due. Those are always particularly satisfying.
How did you come up with the title? My partner came up with it. He seems to have a gift for titles and a lot of my best ones turn out to be his idea.
Is anything in your books based on real life experiences or purely all imagination? Sometimes elements of a story are based on real life, but imagination takes over and shifts it to work within the story. As a writer, each story contains part of who I am, but none of them tell my story. At least not yet.
Are there certain characters you would like to go back to, or is there a theme or idea you’d love to work with? Usually by the time I’ve finished with a story, the characters have told me what they have to say. I do sometimes revisit characters but usually as a secondary character.
What has been the toughest criticism given to you as an author? I really don’t remember. There are people who love my work and I’m grateful to them. There are people for whom my work isn’t their cup of tea and that’s okay too.
What has been the best compliment? The biggest compliment I can get is that a story of mine touched a reader’s heart. That’s all I can ask for and it always makes me sniffle.
How much of yourself goes into your characters? There’s a bit of myself in every character I write.
Do you have any advice to give to aspiring writers? Write what you love and what you love to read. The rest will come. Don’t write what you think will sell. You have to love your work and if you do that will come out and your readers will love your work as well.
EXCERPT:
The doorbell rang with my next appointment, and I answered it. Another young man stood on the stoop, and I took him, and later the next young man, through the same interview process. I didn’t get the same encouraging signals from them, but I gave them the problems. One of them gave up after fifteen minutes, and I thanked him for coming. He looked disappointed, but I thanked him anyway. The other interviewee admitted defeat just before the last interviewee arrived. I noticed that Bryce seemed lost in his computer, typing away as I escorted the third applicant outside. After shaking hands, I said good-bye and was about to close the front door when I saw a man striding up my walk toward the door. As he got closer, I felt my throat go dry, and I had to remind myself that this was a job interview and not a pickup at a Castro gay bar.
“I’m John Black Raven,” he said with a smile, and we shook hands.
“Jerry Lincoln. I’m pleased to meet you.” The heat from his hand was startling, and I had to tear my gaze away from John’s deep, dark, almost black eyes. “Come in and we’ll go into the dining room to talk.” I motioned him inside, and John peered into the living room as we passed. I saw Bryce look up from his work, and he smiled and nodded to John, who did the same back before continuing on. “I take it you and Bryce know each other.”
“Yes. We’ve had many classes together,” John answered before pulling out a chair. He passed me his résumé, and I scanned it.
“Your grades are good, and you’ve had plenty of experience.” It looked as though John had worked at least two jobs for years. Many of them appeared menial and looked like brutally hard, physical work. “None in software development,” I commented. He was also older than the others, nearly twenty-seven.
“No. I worked hard to pay for school, and this is the first interview I’ve had.” His eyes shone with intensity and determination, and I did my best not to look at John’s shining black hair that was pulled into a ponytail, or his sun-kissed skin and full lips. This man was here for a job, and I needed to keep myself under control. “But I always work hard, and computers seem to speak to me.”
I was intrigued. “How?”
“I seem to have a mind for them. My teachers often offered extra credit for solving tough problems, and I always saw the answers right away,” John answered in a measured, rather soft-spoken tone that sounded almost musical. “I don’t have much real-world experience because until I was able to come here to school, there were no opportunities.” John sat back in the chair, indecision in his eyes, and I thought he wasn’t going to elaborate. “I grew up on the reservation, and there are very few chances there.” I’d heard rumors and stories, but I’d largely thought those were tales born out of narrow-minded stereotypes. “I left to try to make a better life,” John added and then grew quiet. Of the four interviews, this one was definitely the hardest. Some things were apparent, though. John was a hard worker, and judging from his grades, that had transferred to his schoolwork.
“What sort of things would you like to know?” I asked him, and John asked the usual things about pay and benefits, which I answered the same as the others. I showed him my current workspace and explained about the work area that was being developed.
“Would the insurance also cover children?” John asked tentatively.
“You should be able to add them,” I answered, reminding myself that I had to see about changing my health insurance policy if I was going to hire people. “How many children do you have?”
John looked sad. “None.”
I thought his question combined with his answer odd, but it was really none of my business, so I let the subject drop. “I have something I’d like you to do for me so I can judge your skill level,” I told John when we returned to the dining room. I handed him the thumb drive, and I watched as he pulled out a very old laptop. Then, after transferring the files, I got him settled in the living room.
“I’m finished,” Bryce said with a grin once John was settled, and I had him come to the dining room to show me. Bryce had indeed found the error and fixed it. He’d also developed the application I’d requested. “I even got the exception handling to work with meaningful messages.” Bryce showed me, and I couldn’t help holding back a smile.
“It looks good,” I said, quite pleased, because I had at least one candidate with potential. I made sure I had his current contact information, and after I shook Bryce’s hand and said good-bye, he left with a grin on his face.
Once he was gone, I stopped in the living room again, and John looked up from his work. “Have you eaten?” I asked, and John nodded. “I’ll be working. Come get me when you’re done.” John nodded again, and I sat down at my console to work. I could see John if I turned my head, and I found I was having trouble looking anywhere else. He was stunning, in a quiet, understated sort of way. His eyes held an intensity and pain that intrigued me, but it was his hair that I couldn’t take my eyes off of, and I kept wondering what he’d look like with it loose around his expressive face. Forcing my attention to my work, I hid behind my monitors and got down to the task, but that failed as well. I kept wondering what I saw in John, and then I’d peer around the monitor again just to watch him for a few seconds.
I had lived in San Francisco and had seen smoking-hot men almost every day of my life—guys who walked down the street and made almost every head turn. Those men usually did nothing for me. Sure, they were pretty to look at and attractive as hell, but as soon as they opened their mouths, some form of incomprehensible gibberish came out with every other word punctuated by “like.” “We, like, went to the store and, like, he grabbed my butt and I said, like, dude, like, don’t do that.” I’d actually heard that in a conversation, and I had wanted to smack the man on the side of the head. Somehow I knew deep down that John was very different from those men. There was definitely intelligence at the bottom of those eyes, and his attractiveness smoldered just below the surface in the way he walked and carried himself—tall and proud. I forced my eyes away from John and got to work for a while.
“I think I’m finished,” John said as he got up from the sofa. Thankful for something to do besides stare at John, I got up and met him at the table. “I fixed the problem with the program; that was easy,” John said. “But I wasn’t sure quite what you wanted with your specifications. On the right, you said you wanted each of the graphics lined up with the appropriate links. I wasn’t sure if you wanted them static or not, so I made them scroll.” He brought up the page, and the graphics scrolled along the side of the screen from top to bottom. “If you click on the graphic, they can link to the other pages if you create them.”
I smiled and stole a glance at John. “I was expecting the easy method, and instead you gave me more. Very good.” I was more than a little impressed. He’d delivered something beyond what I had expected, and he’d done it in the same amount of time as Bryce. “I’ll be making my decision in the next week.”
“Thank you,” John said, and we shook hands. Then he gathered his things, and I watched him leave. As soon as the door closed, I released a long sigh before walking into the kitchen. I grabbed a diet soda and chugged most of it as I ran over both viable candidates in my mind. After throwing the can in the recycling, I was about to return to work when the phone rang.
I picked up the old house phone. “Hello,” I answered, sitting at my workstation.
“Jerry, how did it go?” Peter asked excitedly. “I told you I could find qualified applicants, and I steered people your way I knew you could work with.”
“How did you find these guys?” I asked, wondering how he’d been able to put together a group of reasonably qualified people so fast.
Peter sighned softly, and I heard him shifting as the phone crackled slightly. “Every summer there’s a new graduating class, and at some point most of them don’t get jobs and come here looking for anything so they can work. I simply pointed some of the more qualified people your way. I could have hired any of those men here at the store, but they’d either leave eventually or end up at a dead end. So what did you think?” Peter was not going to be put off.
“Two of them were fantastic, and I have to decide which of them I want to hire. They’re both qualified, and I think I could work with either of them.” I figured both Bryce and John would be a big help, and part of me had a particular preference, but I made it a point not to think with that head and make the right decisions for my business.
“Take some time and think about it. Your gut will tell you what you need to do,” Peter said optimistically, and I rolled my eyes to the empty room.
“I’ll do that,” I promised, and after talking briefly about nothing, we hung up and I went back to work. I’d lost the better part of a day, and deadlines were always looming, so I hunkered down and tried not to think about red-brown skin, long black hair, and deep eyes.
Excerpt of Redemption by Fire by #AADNOLA author Andrew Grey
Dirk Krause is an asshole of the first degree. His life is a hell of his own making, and he makes everyone around him just as miserable. When he’s injured on the job while fighting a fire, he’s nearly unbearable to the hospital staff, and of course no one from his unit cares enough to visit.
Lee Stockton is the new guy at the station, so he gets saddled with the job of bringing Dirk a sympathy bouquet from the guys at the firehouse. To Dirk’s surprise, Lee sees through him like a pane of glass and doesn’t take any of his crap. Lee’s determined to get Dirk to stop being a dick just to push everyone away. When their fighting turns to fucking, will the fireworks shine brightly on a possible relationship or leave them with nothing but ashes?
- Publisher: Dreamspinner Press (May 1, 2012)
- Sold by: Amazon Digital Services
- Language: English
- Amazon
- Barnes & Noble
- Dreamspinner Press
Excerpt:
After a day, he began to feel better. He could breathe more easily even though he was still on oxygen. Once, when he’d woken, he’d found a card from his father, and one from his captain at the station, but other than that, he saw no signs of any visitors. He figured they were waiting until he got better.
He was wrong. The only person he saw other than the nurses and doctors was his father, and his visits were never pleasant.
“So after this, are you going to give up this fireman thing and get a real job? You have a degree. I could get you a job on my team at the brokerage,” his father told him in his usual “I know best” voice. “I’ll start the paperwork for when you get out of here.”
“I don’t…,” Dirk began, but he started to cough, and it got worse and worse. A nurse hurried in and gave him something to calm the spasms, and he collapsed back into the bed, his injured arm aching and his chest hurting like hell. “Can’t we just sit and talk?” Dirk asked, and his father looked at him like he’d asked for the moon.
“I have to be back in the office in half an hour,” his father told him, and Dirk nodded.
Then his father left the room, and Dirk hadn’t had a visitor since. That had been two days ago, three days since he’d awakened, and almost a week since the fire.
As the days went by, he fumed at everyone who walked into his room. He heard the nurses talking about him once in the hallway, but he really didn’t care. He spent most of his days watching television—he couldn’t get out of bed except to go to the bathroom, and it hurt to fucking breathe. This was definitely no picnic! After swearing away yet another nurse, he found himself with Brunhilda, the sadistic nurse from hell, and that did nothing for his mood or his sense of misery. The woman seemed to live to poke him with needles, and a sponge bath from her could make prisoners spill their guts in two minutes flat. “You should work for the CIA,” he told her as she scraped yet more skin off him, but she just grunted and paid no attention to him at all.
After that torture ended, Dirk lay watching television, feeling sorry for himself. His lungs still hurt, but only when he took a deep breath. The doctor had told him that they were hopeful he’d return to normal and that his lungs were aching because they were healing. “Just give it time,” he’d said before leaving.
Out of the corner of his eye, Dirk saw movement in his doorway and steeled himself for another visit from Brunhilda. Instead, he saw what looked like a brick wall casting a shadow carrying flowers in a plastic fire helmet. “You Dirk Krause?” the man asked and slowly stepped into the room, like he was nervous, setting the planter on the tray.
“Yeah, that’s me,” Dirk answered. “Who the hell are you?” The kid might have been huge, but he had a definite baby face, and he looked young as shit.
“Lee Stockton. I’m the new man on third shift, and the guys asked me to bring you the flowers,” the kid said pleasantly, and Dirk watched him shuffle from foot to foot trying to figure out what to say next. “The other guys have been really busy.”
“I’ll bet.” Dirk shifted on the bed, looking at the huge kid. “You draw the short straw or something?” Dirk had no time or use for a pity plant in a cheap bit of plastic that the guys probably had the kid pick up on his way over. “’Cause you’re the first damned guy from the company to visit. So you’ve done your job, and you can go now.” Dirk turned away and waited to hear the kid walk out of the room.
“You really are the biggest asshole on the planet,” the kid said, his voice deeper, and when Dirk turned to look at him, the kid’s eyes blazed. “I didn’t believe them when they told me what a dickhead you could be. But, boy, they weren’t kidding. Two minutes, and you were already acting like an ass. That must be some kind of record. No wonder none of the other guys wanted to come up here.” The kid moved to the side of the bed, and Dirk got a good look at him. The kid’s shirt barely held in his muscles, and when he moved his arm, it looked like the damned shirt was going to rip anytime.
“Well, fuck ’em all,” Dirk said. He wanted to yell, but when he took the breath, his lungs reminded him of their condition by shooting pain down his chest. If they didn’t want to see him, he didn’t want to see those assholes, either. The kid didn’t say anything. He just stared at Dirk like he was from another planet, and then his gaze heated, and Dirk squirmed a little, actually checking to make sure he was covered up. “What’s wrong with you? You some sort of fag?” His arm was throbbing, and his lungs ached with this talking, and he wasn’t in the mood for any crap. He expected the kid’s look to shift to something approaching pity, and he was having none of that.
It had been his experience that whenever anyone was asked that question, they backed away fast, but the kid took a step closer to the bed with an unreadable look on his face. “You seem to have me mistaken with some sort of fucking doormat. I came down here ’cause no one else would visit your sorry ass, and this is the thanks I get. What are you doing calling people names and shit?” Lee took another step closer and stared straight into his eyes, which made Dirk squirm, especially since the kid was freakin’ huge. “Anyone ever tell you not to poke the bear?” Lee said with a growl. “Because you’re damned close.” Lee continued stepping closer until he practically loomed over him. “Why are you such an asshole, anyway? You know what I think?” Lee leaned over the bed, uncomfortably close for Dirk. “I think you’re one fucking huge closet case. I’ve met plenty of guys like you before. You’re fucking miserable, and you make everyone around you pay for it. Well, I saw the way you looked at me, like I was dinner and you wanted to eat me whole. And don’t think for a second you’re ever going to get that chance, because I may fuck ass, but I don’t fuck closet-case assholes like you.”
“What the fuck, man?” Dirk managed to say as he pushed Lee away with his good hand.
“Hey, I see right through you. There’s no hiding. I know a closet case a mile away, and I knew you were gay after being in the room for two seconds. You took one look at me, and I saw the way your eyes bulged and your mouth watered.”
“Little full of yourself, aren’t you?” Dirk pushed harder on Lee’s chest, and damn if he didn’t run up against a mountain of pure American muscle. “Now get the hell away from me. You don’t know shit about shit.” Dirk was more than a little uncomfortable, and Lee’s words were hitting way too close to home.
“I don’t, huh. You got yourself half a hard-on just thinking about me, and those sheets are thin enough that you really can’t hide nothing. So you can cut the bullshit and stop being such an asshole. Now, I brought you your fucking flowers and did what I said I was going to do. You’ll probably be in here for a while yet and at home for even longer, so I suggest you use that time to think about why you’re here all alone and nobody wants to visit your sorry ass.” Lee stepped back and looked toward the door. When he looked back, there was something in Lee’s eyes that Dirk couldn’t read at all. “See you around, closet case.”
“I am not!” Dirk countered, and he really paid for that one as his lungs protested.
Lee turned back to him, and Dirk thought he was going to leave, but he waited for Dirk’s coughing to subside, and then he moved close to the bed again. Dirk thought Lee was going to berate him again, but instead he leaned over the bed and planted a kiss on Dirk’s lips. This was no soft girly kiss, but one hard and strong, with Lee taking possession of Dirk’s mouth as though they’d been kissing forever. Fuck his lungs, the pain in his arms, and everything else. Dirk felt himself go instantly and painfully hard right then and there as his entire body reacted to Lee’s touch. Lee moved his tongue to duel with his, and Dirk lost as Lee took what he wanted in almost every way. Damn, he felt good, and Dirk’s body knew what it wanted and overrode his mind. Suddenly and without warning, Lee pulled back and stepped away from the bed. “Bullshit,” Lee said and strode out of the room without looking back at all.
#AADNOLA Author Spotlight: Andrew Grey
1. Tell us a little about yourself. I grew up in Western Michigan and have lived throughout the world. I love to travel and use those locations in my stories. I started writing in early 2007 and haven’t stopped since. I live in historic Carlisle Pennsylvania with my partner Dominic. When I’m not behind my computer, I’m often outside in my garden.
2. Did you dream of writing when you were little or did you dream of other things like being a doctor (or world domination, like me)? No. I started writing when I was in my forties. I had an idea and decided to try writing it to see where it led.
3. Were you always interested in writing m/m or did you start out interested in something else? I’ve always written M/M. I believe you should write what you know and since I’m gay, that’s what I write.
4. What is your writing process? I really don’t have much of one. I sit at my computer and write the story from beginning to end. All I start with is an idea and where I want to go.
5. How do you approach revising? Once I’ve drafted the story, I set it aside and for a few weeks and come back to it. I review it again once its fresh in my mind. I revise it and have it reviewed by my partner. Once that’s done, I submit it to my publisher.
6. What authors inspire you? For me, inspiration rarely comes from other authors. I read for enjoyment, but inspiration comes from the world around me, art, people, news stories, articles, they have all inspired me at one time or another.
7.. What are your top 5 comfort reads? I rarely read anything twice, so I really don’t believe I have them. When I want comfort and peace, I write a farm story. Those always clear my mind and make me happy.
8. Are you part of a group of writers/Do you have 1 trusted reader or CP? I belong to my local Romance Writers of America chapter. They’re the most wonderful group of people and I can always ount on an honest opinion and unwavering support.
9. Do you have a day job? If so, do you see yourself being able to (or even wanting to) leave it any time in the future to pursue writing full time? I do have a day job. I work full time in Information Technology.
10. What is your goal as a writer? To always write the best story I can. I try to entertain and sometimes I hope, I leave the reader a little wiser, smarter, and happier.
11. Describe (your latest book) in 140 characters or less. Man and his lawyer/boyfriend try to keep his family’s gold coin out of the hands of the government.
12. What do you love most about writing? It’s very solitary. Writing lets me explore the stories in my mind and share them with others.
13. What do you hate most about writing? It’s very solitary. It takes a great deal of time and I have less to spend with my partner and family.
14. What are you reading right now? Written in the Stars by Alix Bekins.
15. Is there anything else you would like to share with us?
My web site is www.andrewgreybooks.com
Email andrewgrey@comcast.net
I can also be found on Facebook and Twitter.
THIS OR THAT
- Peanut butter or jelly? Neither.
- Chips or cookies? Chips
- Bacon or sausage? Bacon, definitely bacon.
- Print or eBook? eBook.
- Pen or pencil? pen
- Print or cursive? Cursive, I dare you to be able to read it though.
- Notebook or computer? Computer
- Kleenex or handkerchief? Kleenex
- Zombies or vampires? Vampires if I have to choose, though I prefer werewolves.
- Angel or Spike? I have no clue about this question.
Andrew grew up in western Michigan with a father who loved to tell stories and a mother who loved to read them. Since then he has lived throughout the country and traveled throughout the world. He has a master’s degree from the University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee and works in information systems for a large corporation. Andrew’s hobbies include collecting antiques, gardening, and leaving his dirty dishes anywhere but in the sink (particularly when writing) He considers himself blessed with an accepting family, fantastic friends, and the world’s most supportive and loving partner. Andrew currently lives in beautiful, historic Carlisle, Pennsylvania.
AAD2013
