New Release-Excerpt: HIDING PLACE by Jackie Keswick

Hiding Place

Author and Publisher: Jackie Keswick

Cover Artist: Avery Daisy Book Design

Release Date: March 31, 2023

Genre: Contemporary M/M Mystery Romance

Tropes: Opposites attract, hurt/comfort, murder mystery

Themes: grief recovery, letting go and starting over

Heat Rating: 3 flames

Length: 43 000 words

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

Goodreads

Buy Links

Universal Link  |  Author's Website

Can a house with a secret bring two grieving men together?

Blurb

Can a house with a secret bring two grieving men together?

After losing his bandmates in an accident, songwriter Zach Hellig looks for a place to hide and a distraction from his grief. He finds both in a dilapidated Pele tower in a corner of Northumberland and in a sexy neighbour, whose smooth facade hides an old, painful secret that appears to be tied to Zach’s new home.

Are the rumours of an unsolved murder the reason for Robert Ludlow’s reluctance to sell Charnbarrow Pele?

Should Zach try to find answers to a thirty-seven-year-old mystery?

And having just experienced the pain of loss, should he risk his heart for a man who struggles to come to terms with his past?

A 43k m/m mystery romance, featuring a neglected old house in need of TLC, an unsolved murder, a grieving musician looking for a distraction, and his stern, intense neighbour who really should smile more.

Excerpt

“Whoever said that house hunting was fun can’t have done that much of it,” I muttered as another stack of envelopes from my property search agent flopped onto my doormat. Paper slid over paper with a soft whoosh like messages skating in freeform. “Unless it’s the hunting they enjoy, and never mind if they find a house or not.” That’s where we differed, I supposed. I wanted to find a house, not spend my time hunting for one.

Cradling the stack of clammy envelopes I returned to the living room, where property particulars covered the surface of my dining table, neatly sorted into ‘absolutely-not’, ‘no’, and ‘maybe’ stacks. An empty space, the space for the ‘yes’ pile of particulars, glared accusingly from the centre of the table.

Maybe the house I was looking for didn’t exist.

Or it existed only in my mind. 

Ever since the night the police had knocked on my door, I’d yearned for a hiding place. Somewhere nobody offered sympathy or told me what I should do next. Where I didn’t have to put on a brave face and be Halcyon songwriter and keyboard player Zach Hellig. 

I yearned for a place where I could grieve in private. 

There was no such place, of course.

The paparazzi found me sooner or later. As did the fans, though—to my surprise—they’d proved unexpectedly compassionate after that first insane outpouring of grief. 

Many expressed the wish I would continue writing the music they had loved us for. Or that I’d start over with a new band. I had no answers to give them, but as I started to process the aftermath of the accident, my need for a place to grieve had turned into a wish to rebuild my life in a shape and form it hadn’t had before.

I’d dissolved my contract and had set about finding a house for myself. 

My requirements had seemed simple: a house with a largish garden in a remote location, maybe in need of renovation. I hadn’t expected this to be a challenging brief for any self-respecting property search agent.

Apparently, it was. 

In the last four months, I’d seen a score of houses all over the country. On the surface, they all fulfilled my requirements. I just couldn’t imagine myself living in any of them.

“This lot won’t make a difference either.” I settled in the armchair under the window, envelopes in my lap. The agent could have emailed me the particulars, just as I could have spent my days on the various property sites, hunting for suitable houses myself.

It wasn’t how my mind worked, though. I wanted the madness in my life to slow down and I was hoping that doing things the old-fashioned way—hiring an agent to help me find a suitable house and scrutinising potential homes on paper—would help me do that. 

Or, as my counsellor had suggested, I was avoiding both people and the internet.

I picked up the first envelope and felt a tiny spark of something bright in the back of my mind. A promise? A touch of hope?

One after the other, I opened the envelopes and scrutinised the contents. One after the other, the sheets fluttered to the floor.

Until the last of the offered properties had me sitting up in my chair.

The brochure described the house—Charnbarrow Pele—as a 17th century farmhouse with courtyard, stables, and walled garden, attached to a 14th century fortified tower.

It fit the list I’d given the agent, but what gave me the fluttery feeling was the photo on the front of the brochure: A house sitting lost and lonely, waiting for an injection of life. 

No doubt I was being fanciful. I’d also seen what could be achieved with a few photoshop skills.

None of that mattered. Hopeful for the first time in months, I placed the brochure in the empty space on my dining table. 

Then I reached for the phone to call the agent.

About the Author 

Jackie Keswick was born behind the Iron Curtain with itchy feet, a bent for rocks and a recurring dream of stepping off a bus in the middle of nowhere to go home. She's worked in a hospital and as the only girl with 52 men on an oil rig, spent a winter in Moscow and a summer in Iceland and finally settled in the country of her dreams with her dream team: a husband, a cat, a tandem, a hammer and a laptop.

Jackie loves unexpected reunions and second chances, and men who write their own rules. She blogs about English history and food, has a thing for green eyes, and is a great believer in making up soundtracks for everything, including her characters and the cat.

And she still hasn't found the place where the bus stops.

For questions and comments, not restricted to green eyes, bus stops or recipes for traditional English food, you can find Jackie Keswick in all the usual places.

Blog/Website  |  Facebook group  |  Facebook page  |  Twitter

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Now Available: ADJOINING ROOMS by Alex Winters - Includes Excerpt!

Adjoining Rooms

by Alex Winters

Publisher: JMS Books, LLC

Release Date: March 4, 2023

Genre: Contemporary M/M Romance

Tropes: Friends to lovers, Second chances, Unexpected reunion

Themes: compassion, comfort, safe landing

Heat Rating: 4 flames   

Length:  18 694 words

Is it a standalone story and does not end on a cliffhanger.

Goodreads

Buy Links

JMS Books  |  Amazon US  |  Amazon UK

One knock could change their lives forever…

Blurb

Knox Townsend can hardly believe it when he walks into Playgroundz Café Store #57 to find his old high school crush, Trevor Channing, working the cash register. Once upon a time, the two had shared a smoldering, passionate, once in a lifetime kiss while their prom dates were passed out and… never spoke of it again. Suddenly, Knox is Trevor’s boss and back in tiny Seaside, Florida for the next week to convert his cold brew coffee machines to the upgraded model. But suddenly, the only thing Knox really wants to upgrade are his feelings for Trevor, long simmering but suddenly reignited. This time, Knox hopes, for good! 

Trevor hasn’t seen Knox in four years, ever since he left town right after graduation without so much as a backward glance, let alone anything as civil as a goodbye. Suddenly he is Trevor’s boss, in town for a whole week to oversee his franchise café’s equipment upgrades and staying at the same hotel where they’d shared their first, and only, kiss: the Seaside Inn. What Knox doesn’t know is that one of the front desk clerks is his regular customer at Playgroundz Café’ and, for a few free gift cards and extra soy whip on his daily latte, Trevor has just checked into the room next door to Knox’s. The room with the adjoining doors he plans to keep unlocked all week, just in case!

Excerpt

Knox slid close, if only to breathe in Trevor’s vaguely innocent scent and feel the heat wafting from his lean, tempting body. “You know what I have in mind, tease.”

“Listen, let’s not rush things,” Trevor chuckled wryly, enjoying his time in the cat bird seat. “I mean, you’re here all week, right?”

They stood halfway between the sushi bar and the hotel lobby, Trevor’s Jeep—at least, Knox assumed it was his Jeep, owing to the half dozen Playgroundz Café stickers littering the bumper—the only car left in the otherwise empty parking lot. “Fine, sure, if you’re playing hard to get or whatever, I get it, but you’ve still had, like, three carafes of sake, so…why not stay the night and drive in tomorrow when you’re good and sober, you know?”

“Hmmm, tempting,” Trevor teased, digging his hands in the front pockets of his faded salmon cargo shorts while gently drifting from foot to foot in the empty parking lot. “Even if I’ve only had two carafes and I could probably, maybe, kinda drive tonight.”

“Why risk it, old pal?” Knox murmured, clutching a handful of Trevor’s casual sea foam T-shirt in his grip and tugging him toward the stairwell that led to his room on the second floor. “Besides, second chances, right?”

Trevor rolled his eyes even as he followed dutifully. “Good thing the old Seaside Inn still has two queen size beds in every room,” he muttered, still playing coy even as Knox found it harder and harder to walk with every step toward the possibility of another dreamy kiss with his first, and most powerful, boy crush.

“Jesus, Trev, when did you become such a prude?”

“Hmmmmm, not sure,” Trevor mused as he drifted up the steps a pace or two in front of Knox. “Maybe the day you left town without a second glance, let alone another word. Probably then, Knox, is when I became such a prude.”

Trevor stood on the second-floor landing, turning slightly to make room for Knox. They stood, face to face, nearly the same height, and Trevor’s full lips, glossy and thick, aglow beneath the dim light just above. “This feels weird, right?”

Knox snorted, dragging the old school hotel room keychain from his pocket, the key dangling from the vaguely Christmas tree shaped plastic that still had the room number printed under the faded Seaside Inn logo: 224. 

“Which part?” He drifted down the hallway toward his room, the air warm and soft on their skin as Knox slowly followed. “Me showing up in your café this morning? Me being your boss? Me being in town? Me drinking too much sake? Or, oh yeah, me staying in the same hotel where we first, you know…”

They were at his door now. Knox’s heart was pounding, his palms sweaty and hands trembling as he struggled to slither the key into the lock. It finally stumbled in, but they didn’t, the door only partly open as Knox felt Trevor still had more to say before finally coming inside.

“Kissed?” Trevor finished for him. “You can say it, you know? It happened, right? It wasn’t just a dream of mine?”

Knox nodded, voice soft and low to match his confessional gaze. “It happened, Trevor. I wanted it to happen. Wanted it to happen since that first time I saw you in homeroom.” He drifted closer, so close, on the empty walkway. Trevor was leaning back against the wrought iron railing across from the half-open door, as if waiting for something. Knox wasn’t sure what. Maybe even Trevor wasn’t sure what. Both of them, it seemed, were grasping at straws, cocky in ways neither of them truly felt, and shy in others. It felt like starting over, and Knox was as nervous as he’d ever been.

“Phew, okay, because…we never talked about it, you know?”

“I’m tired of talking about it,” Knox grunted, inching closer as he put a hand on either side of Trevor’s along the weathered upstairs railing. 

Trevor swallowed. Hard. And loud. Loud enough for Knox to hear. “Me too,” he squeaked, involuntarily licking his lips. “So, what are we gonna do about it?”

Knox leaned gently in, winked and gave Trevor a soft, smooth, aborted kiss. With another wink he stepped back and reached for the doorknob. “Come inside, Trev, and find out.”

About the Author

Alex Winters is the pseudonym of a busy restaurant manager whose curious young staff would love nothing more than to follow him around the dining room reading his steamiest, most romantic passages aloud! When not writing romantic holiday stories of various heat levels, he enjoys long walks with his wife, scary movies and smooth jazz. Visit him at www.awintersromance.com to see what stories are brewing up next!

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New Release-Review & Excerpt: STARBOARD by Ava Olsen (Voyagers #2) - Includes Giveaway!

Starboard

(Voyagers Book 2)

Author and Publisher: Ava Olsen

Cover Artist: Angela Haddon

Release Date: March 21, 2023

Genre: Contemporary M/M Romance

Tropes: friends to lovers, hurt/comfort, collaborators to lovers, close proximity, second chances, bisexual rep

Themes: coming out – bisexual rep, second chances, redemption

Heat Rating:  4 flames

Length: 262 pages

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

Goodreads

Buy Links - Available in Kindle Unlimited

Universal Link  |  Amazon US  |  Amazon UK

Dylan Aylmer is a Hollywood actor struggling to make a comeback.

Falling in love with his ghostwriter wasn’t part of the script.

Blurb

Dylan: I’ve lived my adult life under the Hollywood spotlight, but no one really sees who I am. I’ve gone down the dark path of drinking my anxiety away, along with my career, but now I’m searching for the light again. My struggle to stay sober has me releasing long held secrets. 

 A contract to publish my autobiography means laying everything in the open. When I meet Max, my ghostwriter, I’m not sure how our collaboration is going to work. He’s a university professor from New York with more degrees than I can count and I’m a guy from West Texas that barely finished college. And he may be my ghostwriter, but Max is anything but invisible. 

 Intimate confessions lead to heightened emotions and an unexpected love that fills up all my empty places. I don’t know what the future holds, but I want Max to be a part of it. 

I’m done hiding in plain sight. It’s time for this star to finally shine. 

Max: I’m an established university professor and a celebrity ghostwriter. Why ghostwriting? Because it pays. And I need the money. My ex-husband likes to threaten me with legal battles over custody of our daughter and while he has family reserves, I don’t. 

 So I take a summer ghostwriting contract, a celebrity tell-all. I expect to meet another self-absorbed actor, but Dylan Aylmer doesn’t fit any pre-conceived mold. His eyes are so haunted that I can’t look away and now I’m curious to unlock all his secrets.

What I find is not only a man trying to mend his broken soul but a beautiful person that is so much more than outward appearances. I swore I’d never be vulnerable to heartache again, but Dylan has me breaking all my steadfast rules. 

 Am I chasing a shooting star, soon to be gone, or is our love the kind that shines forever?

Excerpt

“My part in this book deal is supposed to be kept confidential. There’s a reason it’s called ghostwriting. I hope to hell that reporter didn’t get my photo.”

The worst-case scenarios ran through my mind, but I forced myself to remain calm. We arrived at the gate and after we provided our ID, we were escorted to a private waiting area. At least in this section, there were two security staff on standby. Neither of us were in the mood for small talk and sat quietly until Warren entered the room a few minutes later.

“I had security escort that guy out of the airport. It’s all under control.”

“Are you sure about that? Did he get any photos?” I asked, concerned that my anonymity was no more.

“He didn’t, Max. And we’ve done our best to ensure your name is kept out of the press. That’s part of the reason why you’re working on a yacht in the middle of the Mediterranean instead of downtown New York. But Dylan is still a celebrity, and he gets attention, and yes there is always the possibility of news leaking. You’ve done this kind of work before, so why the concern now?”

“Usually everything is done virtually.”

“The in-person request was my idea,” Dylan replied. “Mainly because of the timing with my film and for other privacy reasons.”

“I agreed to the contract. It’s just that I have a thirteen-year-old daughter.” I ran an agitated hand through my hair. “You see where I’m going with this.”

“I do, but again, there’s no reason to be worried,” Warren replied. “It was one reporter and he got nothing.”

“If my ex-husband sees my name or my daughter’s in the tabloid news, he’ll flip out.”

“Husband?” Dylan asked with a raised brow.

“Ex. Is there a problem?” I said, turning in my seat to face him. Dylan better not have any issue with my sexuality, or I would walk out of the airport right now, contract be damned. 

“Nope,” he shook his head and smirked at me. “Just nosy.”

I let out a surprised laugh, despite my growing anxiety. 

“An honest answer from someone in show biz.” I placed my hand on my chest. “I’m honored.” 

Dylan’s smirk faded as quick as it came, and I could sense the shift in his mood. “I can tell that you really don’t want to do this, and I won’t blame you if you want to back out. You have priorities you need to consider.” 

The look of resignation on Dylan’s face touched something in me. That was highly unusual. My ex often accused me of being unfeeling because I didn’t let my emotions get involved in certain decisions, and maybe he was right. I tended to be more rational and analytical. So why this man, a stranger, should spark my empathy was beyond my comprehension. 

“I’m going to hit the head before we board. Thanks for seeing us off, Warren.” Dylan shook his hand and walked away, leaving a vacuum of sorts. Like he’d taken all the oxygen along with him. 

Warren motioned to the exit. “Time for me to get going. And stop worrying, Max. Focus on the book. That’s the priority.” He paused and shook his head. “Look, I won’t bullshit you. There’ve been many times when I wanted to kick Dylan’s reckless butt to the curb. But he’s worked hard for a fresh start. He’s got a new movie role. And the book. I want to ensure both succeed, and Dylan along with it.”

“I’ll do my best,” I responded as Warren nodded and walked away.

Part of me wished I’d never have to work with Dylan, but the bigger part of me called me a liar. I didn’t even know the man and yet I was intensely curious about him, and that right there made the writer in me stand at attention. There was more to Dylan Aylmer than a model pretty face and a salacious past. 

It was those sad, hypnotic eyes. He’d cast a strange kind of spell on me, and I was determined to find out why.

Carra's Review

I always enjoy a good bisexual awakening story, and Starboard is a great example of this trope done well.  There is a great cast of characters, and the two main characters of Dylan and Max are well-rounded and easy to like.  Dylan is an alcoholic, two years sober after a couple of prior relapses.  As a well-known actor who has been in the closet for his entire career, it’s easy to see how stressful things are for him.

The beauty of the premise of this story—Dylan having Max as his ghostwriter for his autobiography—is that there is a built-in mechanism for the two of them to learn about each other where the reader can get a lot of information on their backgrounds without it feeling like an information dump.  And yes, even though the book is about Dylan, Max volunteers information about his own life to help put Dylan more at ease for the whole process.

There is also some natural drama in Max’s life due to his ex and their ongoing arguing over the custody of their young teen daughter.  But even with each of their issues, the more they get to know each other, the more entwined with each other they become.  There’s an emotional connection for sure, and their physical chemistry is extremely evident.

There is the anticipated angst when, even with their best attempts at hiding from the paparazzi, they’re spotted and outed.  I’ve come to expect this to happen with these types of “famous person in the closet” stories, but it was handled well.  I did feel that by the end Dylan and Max were a bit much with the lovey-dovey towards each other compared to their usual personalities.

This is the first book I’ve read by this author, and while this is the second book in the series it can absolutely be read as a standalone.  It has a strong supporting cast of characters, with plenty of obvious opportunities for more stories.  My only nit-picky thing would be the overuse of the word murmur; that’s a whole heck of a lot of people talking super-softly, often when that is not really what they are doing.  

My overall rating is somewhere between 3.5 and 4 stars, so we’ll call this one 3.75.  And this story is definitely for readers 18+ for adult language and sexual content.

About the Author 

Ava Olsen writes steamy and dreamy contemporary romances filled with heartwarming characters, cheeky banter and swoony moments. 

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New Release-Review & Excerpt: ROAD RULES by Brigham Vaughn (Rules of the Game #1) - Includes Giveaway!

Road Rules
By Brigham Vaughn

Rules of the Game, Book 1

Rule #1: Hockey Comes First

As NHL team captain, Zane Murphy’s goal for the upcoming season is simple: take the Evanston River Otters all the way to the Stanley Cup.

Rule #2: Only On the Road

But an unexpectedly hot night with his best friend and teammate Ryan Hartinger throws Zane’s carefully laid plans and his sexuality into disarray.

Rule #3: Don’t Fall in Love with Your Best Friend

When feelings begin to creep in, Zane will have to decide if he’s willing to throw out the rules and risk his career and his friendship for a chance at winning it all.

Universal Link

Add to Goodreads

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Excerpt

“That was a sick goal at the end of the second period, man.”

Zane Murphy looked away from the NHL game on the TV screen to smile at his new road roommate. “Thanks. Your pass was a beauty.”

“I’ve gotcha tape to tape, my dude. Tape to tape.”

Zane gave him an amused glance. He still wasn’t sure what to make of Ryan Hartinger.

They were only a few weeks into the season and Ryan was a freshman player. He was a solid winger and a great locker-room guy. He had an infectious energy on and off the ice and so far, Zane was pretty pleased to have him as a liney.

He was a little less sure how he felt about rooming with him on the road though.

Ryan reminded him of a not-very-well-trained golden retriever.

And he talked. A lot.

“Keep it up and hopefully we’ll have a better season this year than last,” Zane said with a sigh as he glanced back at the Boston vs. Dallas game.

Last season, the University of Michigan’s ice hockey team had been knocked out of the Frozen Four in the first round to a school that shouldn’t have been able to beat them. It still stung.

If only he’d gotten that last goal in the net instead of the puck bouncing off the post like that …

“If we keep it up, maybe someday we’ll be playing there,” Ryan said, nodding at the TV.

“God, I hope so.” Zane didn’t even try to hide the longing in his voice.

“Hey, you’ve already been drafted by the Otters. You’ve got a great shot at it.”

Zane settled back against the headboard of the hotel room bed, trying to push down the warm glow that settled in his chest at the thought of his draft day last summer. The Otters were a newer NHL expansion team in the Chicago Illinois area and Zane was itching to play for them.

He’d been watching Anders Lindholm—their top line center—burn up the league for years with Boston and a shot at playing on a team with him was everything.

Some guys Zane knew had called him crazy for planning to finish his degree first but his parents were pretty strongly in favor of him earning one in case the NHL didn’t work out, and Zane understood that.

Besides, U of M’s team was so f*cking good. Zane had gotten a ton of experience, dialed in his game, and felt much more seasoned as a player than he had a few years ago. And he was looking forward to another shot at the college hockey championship this year.

It meant he’d probably have to spend less time bouncing between the Otters and their AHL affiliate. He hoped so anyway.

Carra's Review

As the start of a series, this story definitely does its job of pulling you in and leaving you wanting more stories in the same world.  Zane and Ryan’s journey from straight friends through both of their bi-awakenings to so much more was gradual and progressed at a natural pace, allowing time for them to explore the more emotional aspects of their friendship as things unfolded.

Zane is the more serious, responsible of the two, always with his eye on their goal when it comes to hockey (no pun intended…well, okay, maybe a little LOL).  Ryan is the more laid-back one, but is still a steadfast support for them both.  Their deep connection even before going pro is evident, and once they are in the big leagues they are like two halves of a whole even before the intimate changes in their relationship begin.

This is easily one of my favorite friends-to-lovers books, because Zane and Ryan are far and away one of the best, most suited matchups I’ve read with this trope.  I couldn’t imagine one without the other, and watching as their relationship journeyed from new teammates to inseparable lovers was incredibly satisfying.

I’m excited for more in this series, but for now I’ll be happily content with Road Rules, which I’ll definitely be rereading in the future.  If you haven’t yet guessed, this was a 5-star read for me and I’ve added it to my Top Recommendations.  If you’re a fan of friends-to-lovers, or just of hockey romances, you’ll want to exercise that one-click finger ASAP ;-). These guys are scorching hot together, so this story is meant for readers 18+ for adult language and sexual content.

 

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Enter the Giveaway:

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About the Author:

Brigham Vaughn is on the adventure of a lifetime as a full-time author. She devours books at an alarming rate and hasn’t let her short arms and long torso stop her from doing yoga. She makes a killer key lime pie, hates green peppers, and loves wine tasting tours. A collector of vintage Nancy Drew books and green glassware, she enjoys poking around in antique shops and refinishing thrift store furniture. An avid photographer, she dreams of traveling the world and she can’t wait to discover everything else life has to offer her.

Her books range from short stories to novellas to novels. They explore gay, bisexual, lesbian, and polyamorous romance in contemporary settings. Pronouns: she/her

Connect with Brigham:

Link Tree: https://linktr.ee/brighamvaughn

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New Release-Excerpt & Giveaway: WORTH THE FIGHT by Denver Shaw

Worth the Fight

Author and Publisher: Denver Shaw

Cover Artist: Steamy Designs

Release Date: March 21, 2023

Genre: Contemporary M/M Romance

Tropes: Opposites attract, sports romance/MMA romance, grumpy/sunshine, multicultural characters, found family

Themes: Protect who you love

Heat Rating: 4 flames 

Length:  56 600 words      

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

Goodreads

Buy Links - Available in Kindle Unlimited

Amazon US  |  Amazon UK

A bad boy who lives outside the law. A compassionate soul focused on helping others. Sometimes rules are meant to be broken... for love.

Blurb

Caden
Helping my brother was my focus. He got into trouble and I’ve been using my skills in the ring to prevent loan sharks from breaking his kneecaps... or worse.
Until I met Noah.
He’s a good man who makes me want to be better. A man who doesn't lace up his gloves and step into underground rings. But I have one last fight coming. This time the stakes are higher than ever. What I have to do to save my brother could cost me the man I’m falling for.

Noah
I should have walked away and never looked back when I first met the MMA fighter with honey-gold eyes. Yet Caden’s charms are too appealing to ignore. As a social worker it's important for me to keep my nose clean.
And Caden is a red flag in every way.
Still, he’s hot as sin and I can't seem to stay away. I’m taking a risk by opening myself up to him, but I'm convinced beneath that bad boy exterior beats the heart of a good man who is worth the fight.

Excerpt 

I texted Austin that I was here and that he needed to get his skinny butt to the entrance.

I got back what looked like a seat assignment from him, but this place was a maze. There was a man nearby who looked like he knew his way around, or was someone that worked here. Even if he didn’t, he might know where the seats were. But my breath caught in my throat as I surveyed him: black pants, white shirt; tall, muscled; short, blackberry-colored hair and honey-gold eyes. On their own, his features were possessed by dozens, perhaps hundreds of other men, but there was a certain something about this particular man. He exuded an easy confidence, a sex appeal that drew me in. It had been years since I’d been in a serious relationship, months since I’d had sex, and looking at this guy made me seriously think, albeit fleetingly, that maybe I should put myself back out there and at least consider dating again.

I shook myself from the temporary brain paralysis the man had reduced me to. 

“Pardon me, sir,” I said, “I haven’t been here in a long time; I’m trying to figure out where seat F3J is. Do you have any idea?”

He smiled down at me. I felt the caress of his gaze roaming over me, but not lingering too long in one spot, which took him out of the ‘creep’ category and put him into the ‘typical male’ category that he probably couldn’t help being in anyway. Not to put too fine a point on it, but I did have on my burgundy suit, which perfectly molded to my body.

Was he gay, or at least bisexual?

“F3J,” he repeated, smirking about something. “F3J…well, I might be able to help you hunt it down. Are you…here with someone?”

“I am,” I said. “Young guy, skinny, mixed.”

“Anything serious?” the man asked, casually—too casually.

I laughed. “Um…no, he’s my nephew.”

“Oh!” He wiped imaginary sweat off his forehead. “I see. That’s good.”

“Is it, now?”

“Well, see,” he said, “I figured there was no way I was lucky enough to meet a single guy in a place like this. I mean, what are the chances a man like you is unattached?”

Well, he answered my question. He was definitely gay or bisexual.

I pursed my lips and gave him the look I gave the kids that tried to bullsh*t me at work. “Oh, you’re a little slick. What, just because I’m here without a guy, I must be unattached?”

He shrugged. “Are you?”

“Here without a guy?”

“No, unattached.”

I made him wait a second. “Maybe I am.”

“Here’s the thing,” he said, leaning in a little bit. He smelled like a minty aftershave and sweat, the clean sweat of a man straight after a workout. “I figured any man who was with you wouldn’t stay behind if you left the house looking like that. I know I wouldn’t.”

“What, so he’d own me?” I wanted to be righteously angry, but it was hard. Those eyes…

“No,” the man said. “But he’d never miss a chance to be with you. I think you’d probably own him.”

“Oh, okay. Okay.” I nodded slowly, smiling now. “You’re slick and smooth at the same time. Listen, can you help me find my seat or not?”

“Is that an interview question?”

“I’m not taking applications.”

“Give me your phone number, and I’ll take you straight there.” He winked at me.

I almost did. It was fun, and it had been a long, long time since I’d been flirted with by anybody that wasn’t an inappropriately forward client. That happened plenty. This, though, was a bona fide stranger who didn’t know me from Adam, and seemed like he thought I was looking cute.

But, let’s be honest here; the little fantasy I had a few moments ago about putting myself out there was just that, a fantasy. I ate takeout every night for dinner. I ate most of my lunches at the office. I had heard about days off, and I vaguely remembered having them…or maybe I only dreamed about that once. That stack of case files on my desk? It hung around the back of my head like it had astral projected itself to follow me around the world outside my office.

It was a nice thought, but no, sir; the next date I had time to go on would be the one day off I would get between the day my office burned down and the day they relocated me to another one and printed out all my files again—thank God for the cloud.

“It’s not that easy,” I said with my own wink. “But good try. You’ve got real skills. I applaud your smoothness.” I stepped away from him. “I’ve got no time for guys who hit on guys for sport.”

He feigned a wound to the chest, but he was still smiling. “Fair enough,” he said. “I’ll keep that in mind, then. I’ll at least give you a hint, though.” He pointed toward the ring. “F stands for ‘floor’—your seat’s near the ring. Enjoy the fight!”

Yeah, I felt a little bad about being so hard on him, but you’ve got to shut all that down hard if you’re gonna shut it down at all. A man like that, yeah, okay, probably he’d be good for a short-term thing. I could admit that. All that muscle and sweat…

About the Author

Denver Shaw is a girl who enjoys the simple things in life: the first sip of coffee in the morning, the changing colors of sunset, and clothes fresh out of the dryer- although she doesn’t enjoy folding them. When she isn’t reading romance stories, she spends her time plotting and writing them.

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