Friday, October 25, 2019

Random Paranormal Tales of 2019 Part 10


Moonlight by K Evan Coles
Summary:
Ryen Justice lives a quiet existence in Sequim, Washington, running a successful horse farm with his twin brother and sister-in-law. Still, something nameless in him yearns for more. 

An old barn on the farm becomes Ryen’s haven where he spends evenings watching the moon and stars. With Halloween approaching, he volunteers to decorate the barn for a party, knowing the job will guarantee him more time alone. 

One night as Ryen labors, a man walks out of the woods. Ryen knows he should feel apprehensive, but he is intrigued by the dark-haired stranger who calls himself called Kamer. What Ryen doesn’t know is that lurking beneath Kamer's handsome face lies something that could prove dangerous to both Ryen’s body and soul.

Original Review November 2018:
Moonlight is the first solo work by K Evan Coles I've read and it certainly left me hungry for more.  As a bit of an introvert myself, I definitely understood Ryen's need for alone time but I also appreciated how his twin and sister-in-law, though hating to see him alone, understood his need for the peace and quiet even if a bit reluctantly.  Pushy family members really tend to grate on me so this element was a definite plus for me. As for the connection between Ryen and Kamer, well let me just say it was deliciously heartwarming.  The fun and/or trouble😉 these boys could get up to would make for some very intriguing reading but whether we get more or this is it, you will definitely swipe that last page of Moonlight completely entertained.

RATING:

Unimaginable by Iyana Jenna
Summary:
Callum Saxon wakes up to a totally different universe where all around him is water. Strangely he can breathe it as if it’s air. The bad thing is he can't remember how he got there. He can't remember himself, either.

Ainsley Carlisle is more than a man with long blond hair. He’s a unicorn shifter with secrets as widely stretched as the rainbow supposedly coming out of his rear. Ainsley won’t help Callum uncover who he is because Ainsley wants him to remember it himself.

In this new universe, Callum has to survive the creatures that live there, such as vampires, shifters, werewolves, you name it. But there’s more to Callum than meets the eye.

The book is planned as part of a series but can be read as a standalone.

Slow Heat by Leta Blake
Summary:
Heat of Love #1
A lustful young alpha meets his match in an older omega with a past. 

Professor Vale Aman has crafted a good life for himself. An unbonded omega in his mid-thirties, he's long since given up hope that he'll meet a compatible alpha, let alone his destined mate. He's fulfilled by his career, his poetry, his cat, and his friends.

When Jason Sabel, a much younger alpha, imprints on Vale in a shocking and public way, longings are ignited that can't be ignored. Fighting their strong sexual urges, Jason and Vale must agree to contract with each other before they can consummate their passion.

But for Vale, being with Jason means giving up his independence and placing his future in the hands of an untested alpha--as well as facing the scars of his own tumultuous past. He isn't sure it's worth it. But Jason isn't giving up his destined mate without a fight.

This is a stand alone gay romance novel, 118,000 words, with a strong happy ending, as well as a well-crafted, non-shifter omegaverse, with alphas, betas, omegas, male pregnancy, heat, and knotting. Content warning for pregnancy loss and aftermath. 

Casper Gets a Wish by R Cooper
Summary:
Casper Silverbell is a grumpity elf, and with good reason. As an accountant at the North Pole, he gets no respect from most of the creative elves who don't see his job as important. The only joys in his life are his pet polar bears, his love of fine tailoring, and his monthly spats with the head of Gift Development.

Did he say joy? He meant to say annoyance. Dmitri Hollyberry is everything Casper resents about creative elves, wrapped up in one green-haired, tattooed package. Dmitri never gets his expense reports in on time, and seems to delight in making Casper lose his temper. He's also smart, talented, and just different enough from the other elves that Casper had once wished Dmitri would be the one to ease his loneliness. But obviously, that's impossible. No matter how good Casper is, that is one Christmas wish he doesn't expect to come true.

Original Review December 2018:
Another lovely holiday short story that was a pleasure to read.  Not really an enemies-to-lovers tale but Casper sees them as "near-enough enemies", he just has so much anger inside that he doesn't see what is right in front of him, or more accurately he refuses to let himself see what's there.  On Dmitri's end it is definitely not enemies but lets face it, there is only so much an elf can put up with before the door closes.  As to whether Casper actually gets his wish(and just what is that wish?) you'll have to read this little ditty for yourself but you won't be sorry.

I added Casper Gets His Wish to my kindle last year but somehow it slipped through the cracks and went unread but this year it was one of the first on my list and loved every minute of it.  I've said this often but it doesn't make it any less true, this one may be short on quantity but its long on quality.  A true holiday gem to add to my growing Christmas Reads shelf.

RATING:

War's Mate by Taylor Rylan
Summary:
Honey Creek Den #1
Growing up in a coven with only one other shifter around doesn’t allow Arik much of an opportunity to find his mate, and he doesn’t know when or where he’ll find him. When dreams about his mate start interrupting his sleep, he’s content to wait for them to find each other. That is, until he dreams that his mate is in danger.

Alpha War has all but given up on ever finding his true mate. He’s looked for centuries, but so far, no luck. Then when his den starts being attacked by the local coven, all thoughts of finding his mate leave his mind. He only wants to protect his den members like any alpha would.

When an altercation with the coven turns deadly, the last thing War expects is for his mate to appear out of thin air, literally. Arik knew his mate was in trouble so he got his twin to teleport the two of them to the place he’d been dreaming about.

War is happy to have found his mate but can he accept a union with another coven? He already has enough witch problems; will a coven of warlocks be any different? But can he really say no to his fated mate? Is Arik willing to leave his peaceful coven for a den full of chaos?

With problems lurking, babies coming, and warlocks “poofing” in and out at odd times, will War and Arik ever find time alone for sexy times?

War’s Mate is 40,000 words and is book one in the Honey Creek Den Series. Each book contains a fated mate pair, Mpreg, lots and lots of knotting during growly sexy times, babies, no cheating, and a HEA. These bears will do anything their mates ask, just read and see. The Honey Creek Den Series is meant to be read in order even though each book focuses on a different couple. This book is intended for adults only as these shifters tend to get growly and don’t watch their language.

Click to Check Out Previous
Random Paranormal Tales of 2019

Part 1  /  Part 2  /  Part 3  /  Part 4
Part 5  /  Part 6  /  Part 7  /  Part 8
Part 9  /  Part 11  /  Part 12



Moonlight by K Evan Coles
The weather grew colder as Ryen cleaned out the barn and the fiery colors in the fall foliage increased. Myles pestered him to use the generator, but Ryen opted for quiet over warmth most nights. He carried a thermos of tea on his trips to the barn and set up more camping lanterns to illuminate the space. During his breaks from sorting and hauling, he brought his cup to the door leading out to the barnyard and sipped the warm, sweet liquid while the wind stirred the night air.

The moon hung full and bright on the evening Ryen saw movement in the fir trees beyond the fence. He blinked at the figure who walked out of the woods and stood straighter, eyes on a slim man about his height. A part of Ryen’s brain knew he should be apprehensive—the farm’s nearest neighbor was over five miles away, and visitors always used the entrance from the main road. He felt only curiosity, though, and set his tea down on the table at his side.

The man moving toward him with measured steps was dark-haired and dressed in simple, black clothes. Sudden nerves curled in Ryen’s gut, and he picked up the lantern before he stepped outside. He crossed the yard, staring at the face on the other side of the fence.

The stranger’s features came together with a startling harmony, all big, liquid eyes and sharp bone structure, his skin washed out by the bright moonlight and the glow of the lantern in Ryen’s hand. Then he gave Ryen a smile, and the words Ryen planned to speak faded on his tongue.

“I did not expect to see anyone else out tonight.” A lyrical accent Ryen thought might be Middle Eastern sharpened the man’s syllables and lent a richness to his baritone voice.

“I … Same here,” Ryen managed. He silently hoped the moonlight concealed the color heating his cheeks. “I’ve never seen anyone out here at this hour. At least not on the other side of the fence.”

“I sometimes have trouble sleeping.” The stranger stepped forward and rested his hands on the top rail of the fence. His eyes moved over Ryen’s face before he smiled again. “I find that a long walk before bed can help. I do not usually walk this way, however. I decided to try a new route tonight.”

“And here you are.”

“Here I am.”

Ryen stepped closer to the fence without meaning to. “Do you live nearby?”

The man’s smile grew somehow shy. “Not really. But I wanted a long walk.”


“And that happens to you a lot? The trouble sleeping, I mean?” Ryen’s voice sounded hesitant to his own ears, but he moved another step closer. He was growing more accustomed to the stranger’s accent now, and the way it curled around the words he spoke.

“Quite often, unfortunately.”

The man stood just out of arm’s reach from Ryen, and the edges of the quiet world around them blurred as their gazes locked. The wind lost its chill, and the earth beneath Ryen’s feet and the barn behind his back faded. A feeling stirred in his chest, like a hum that slowly filled him.

“What’s your name?” Ryen asked.

A smile lit the stranger’s face. “I am Kamer.”

Kah-mer, Ryen repeated to himself, memorizing the elegant roll of the ‘r.’

“It is an old Turkish name,” Kamer said. “No doubt you have never heard it before.”

The mischief in his smile made Ryen chuckle. “Well, you’re right about that. I’m Ryen.”

“It is nice to meet you, Ryen.” Kamer glanced at the old barn and met Ryen’s gaze again. “Are you working out here by yourself?”

“Yes. My brother and his wife are back at our place.” Ryen gestured in the direction of the farmhouse. “I like coming out here after work so I can relax and clear my head.”

“You enjoy being alone?”

“I’m used to it, I guess.” His heart gave a little flip at the frown that crossed Kamer’s face. “I try to give them a little space when I can, and I promised my sister-in-law I’d clean the place up for a party. It’s full of all kinds of junk, so that’ll take me a few days, and I can kill two birds with one stone.”

“I see.” Kamer cocked his head. “So you would not mind if I passed by here again?”

“Not at all.” Ryen’s face went hot again. He hated sounding so goddamned eager, but Kamer merely nodded, his eyes kind.

The ping of Ryen’s phone in his pocket snapped the world back into place around them.

“It is growing late, you know.” Kamer said. “No doubt your family is wondering where you are.”

Ryen frowned. He actually had no clue what time it was. “It’s easy to lose track out here. I should probably get back. What about you?” he asked. “Can you find your way?”

“Of course.” An expression Ryen couldn’t read crossed Kamer’s face. “The moon is very bright tonight, and I have a flashlight in my pocket if I need it. I will not get lost.”

“All right then.”


Kamer raised a hand. “I will see you tomorrow, Ryen,” he said before he turned back toward the woods.

Unimaginable by Iyana Jenna
Callum wasn't completely unaware of where he was going. He recognized the place as the kind of pub Ainsley had showed him earlier. He wasn't sure how he was going to pay for his drinks but the thought of losing himself in alcohol was as big of enticement as his desire to erase his mind completely -- if there was any to erase.

Callum blinked his eyes, adjusting to the dim light inside. The place was quiet, practically empty. Perhaps it was still quite early. It wasn't unlike other pubs he frequented -- ha, he remembered that piece of information. The only thing keeping this one apart from the ones he knew was the slow moving thick water around him. Callum just hoped he wouldn't get sick like some time ago when he first shoveled food down into his stomach. He gazed straight at the bartender. Now what could he say to get a free drink ...

"Hello, gorgeous."

He looked up. A literal tall, dark, and handsome was looming over him. Callum wouldn't call himself short but compared to this man? He was a midget.

"What are you doing alone in this place, baby doll? Where is your, ah, partner?"

"What do you mean?"

The stranger waved his hand. "You know, that blond bastard?"

So he knew he'd been going about with Ainsley.

"Come on," the man said dismissively. "Two pretty creatures like you? You were both strolling around the town like the happiest couple in the realm, making everyone jealous."

Callum sputtered. "Jealous? We're not a couple and I'm not sure about the pretty creatures ..." Talking about pretty, he himself couldn't tear his gaze away from ... what was his name?

"Who are you?" Callum's voice was as weak as he was feeling at the moment.

The man closed the distance between them and Callum sniffed his cologne. It was a scent he'd never smelled before. It was a mix of their surroundings, like ocean breeze as well as the old woods, added with citrus aromas and a trace of musk underlying all of those. It was strong but not too overpoweringly so or suffocating. It was more like the flow of the ocean water, soothing and lulling, spellbinding.

"Is a name that important to you?"

Callum felt like he was coming back from a long slumber. He looked up from the man's strong, sculpted jaw, which sat at his eye level.

"Uh ..."

"What's yours, l'ange?"

It took a beat and Callum realized the man just called him angel in French. So they spoke French here, too, Callum mused. He wondered what other languages they spoke.

"Callum. Callum Saxon."

"Your name is as pretty as its owner." He practically purred.

"How about you?"

To Callum's surprise, the man withdrew a little to make a deep bow with one leg pulled back and a hand waving low.

"I am usually called Patrice Deniau. I believe that's my real name though it's been centuries and I honestly can't remember in which period of time I was named that."

Callum felt as if all the air in his lungs was sucked out. Centuries. Period of time. What was this man whose name sounded French, too -- Patrice Deniau? A vampire?

A shudder ran down his spine. Patrice did look like a vampire with his tall, slender figure, sharp chin, dark hair, and a pair of intense blue eyes that easily bewitched Callum.

"I, uh, it's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Deniau."

"Mister?" Patrice's laughter was soft and lilting. "Unless you are to call me Sir or Master, Patrice will suffice." He stroked Callum's jaw with his long fingers.

Callum let out an involuntary moan. He knew he had to pull back, move away. But he couldn't. Instead, he leaned in and his eyes shuttered closed. He practically purred.

"Yes, all right, Patrice." It was Patrice for now. Later, he decided, he might change to Sir, even Master.

"Very well. Good Lord, you're so gorgeous. Has anyone told you that?"

"Oh, yeah, I guess." Amidst his foggy mind, Callum heard himself replying, not that he knew exactly what he had been asked.

"Really? Who was that, someone special?"

Callum nodded. "Yes."

"Someone you loved or someone who loved you?"

"Both. Love." Why past tense? "He still loves me."

"As you deserve, someone as captivating as you. May I know -- I believe it's that Carlisle boy? Ainsley?"

Ainsley. Callum's cheeks heated up as the name was mentioned. He'd definitely developed a certain infatuation with the man. But love? They had not even declared their feelings to each other. Declare, because Callum was certain their feelings were mutual. He shook his head slowly.

"No?" Patrice sounded surprised. "You've only been here for, what, two days, three days at the most. I can't believe you've been fooling around, let alone falling in love."

But of course he'd not been fooling around. He'd barely met other people aside from Ainsley and his mother. Yet it was neither of the two who he had on his mind.

Kevin Travers.

Callum blinked as a name suddenly flashed across his mind. He shook himself inwardly and took a deep breath. The name sounded familiar. It had to be familiar. Otherwise, why would it turn up out of the blue?

"What is it, my dear? You look ashen."

Callum was suddenly out of breath, near hyperventilating. "He was ... he is ..."

"Yes?" Patrice's hand crept up at the back of his head.

"I don't remember but ... but he was important to me. I just know it." Patrice stroked his scalp with knowing fingers and it was all Callum could do to stop himself from moaning.

"Is he still important now?"


K Evan Coles
K. Evan Coles is a mother and tech pirate by day and a writer by night. She is a dreamer who, with a little hard work and a lot of good coffee, coaxes words out of her head and onto paper.

K. lives in the northeast United States, where she complains bitterly about the winters, but truly loves the region and its diverse, tenacious and deceptively compassionate people. You’ll usually find K. nerding out over books, movies and television with friends and family. She’s especially proud to be raising her son as part of a new generation of unabashed geeks.

K.’s books explore LGBTQ+ romance in contemporary settings.

Iyana Jenna
I'm Iyana Jenna and you can call me Iyana. I like writing, romance, and man-love, so you're mostly going to find my stories as m/m whether they are for adults or young adults. They are not going to be too heavy on explicit sex, though, as many say that my stories are considered sweet romance.

When I don't write, I teach English to children, teens, and adults. I also work in the curriculum and materials department in a language institution. Among my responsibilities are writing books and tests.


Leta Blake
Author of the bestselling book Smoky Mountain Dreams and the fan favorite Training Season, Leta Blake’s educational and professional background is in psychology and finance, respectively. However, her passion has always been for writing. She enjoys crafting romance stories and exploring the psyches of made up people. At home in the Southern U.S., Leta works hard at achieving balance between her day job, her writing, and her family.


R Cooper
R. Cooper grew up thinking Mary Fisher from She-Devil and Joan Wilder from Romancing the Stone were role models. She also watched too many classic movies and read anything she got her wee little hands on, including encyclopedias. Unsurprisingly, this fantasy-prone nerd grew up to take to writing. Her published work is m/m romance and she writes in any genre which strikes her fancy and which allows her delve into new characters. It's the characters that interest her most of all. Well, and the happy endings. There should always be happy endings.
Taylor Rylan
The Men of Crooked Bend Series is what started it all for me and it's seems I'm having a difficult time letting those men go! It was originally supposed to be a trilogy but it's up to nine books now and the tenth and final book is planned for June! In the Men of Crooked Bend series, you get to know the cowboys and other men of Wild Creek Ranch in Crooked Bend, Wyoming (a totally fictitious town). The series is set in the foothills of the Grand Teton Mountains, a place I fell in love with as a teenager.

I have a closely related spin-off series called Sulfur Springs. In it you leave Wild Creek and go to the little neighbor town of Sulfur Springs and meet the sexy men of the Sulfur Springs Fire Depart as well as quite a few US Marshals. You see some familiar faces but you also meet some very new ones. It's currently up to five books with at least three or two more planned.

I love to read, it's always been one of my favorite things to do since I can remember. When I started writing, I couldn't decide if I wanted to write contemporary or paranormal as I love both. I chose contemporary but still, paranormal was talking to me and those darn shifters kept saying, "tell our story, it'll be fun." So I did. And it was. That's how I started my Honey Creek Den series. Honey Creek is another totally fictitious town set on Flathead Lake (a real place) in Montana. I've never been there, but hope to get there at some point.

Honey Creek Den is up to five books, and the sixth and final book in that series will be released in April 2019. After, I'll pick back up with the Timber Valley Wolf Pack because everyone wants to meet Forest's brothers, right?

When I'm not busy writing about cowboys, architects, sheriffs, firefighters, US Marshals, bears, tigers, or warlocks (to name just a few), I like to read (who doesn't?). Because of my limited free time, I'm fond of short stories and novellas. I'm mom to three busy teenagers who are determined to be in every activity imaginable it seems. And a cat named Lucky that we're positive is an alien that was sent to spy on us.

I can be found on Amazon, Book Bub, Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter.


K Evan Coles
FACEBOOK  /  TWITTER  /  WEBSITE
FB FRIEND  /  INSTAGRAM  /  iTUNES
GOOGLE PLAY  /  BOOKBUB  /  B&N
TUMBLR  /  PINTEREST  /  AMAZON
EMAIL: coles.k.evan@gmail.com  

Iyana Jenna
FACEBOOK  /  TWITTER  /  FB FRIEND
WEBSITE  /  BLOG  /  KOBO
BOOKSTRAND  /  PINTEREST  /  B&N
JMS BOOKS  /  AMAZON  /  GOODREADS

Leta Blake
FACEBOOK  /  TWITTER  /  WEBSITE
NEWSLETTER  /  FB FRIEND  /  iTUNES  /  B&N
TUMBLR  /  SMASHWORDS  /  AUDIBLE
PATREON  /  AMAZON  /  GOODREADS
EMAIL: leta.blake.author@gmail.com 

R Cooper
FACEBOOK  /  TWITTER  /  FB FRIEND
WEBSITE  /  KOBO  /  GOOGLE PLAY  /  TUMBLR
B&N  /  SMASHWORDS  /  DREAMSPINNER
iTUNES  /  AMAZON  /  GOODREADS
EMAIL: riscoops@gmail.com  

Taylor Rylan
FACEBOOK  /  TWITTER  /  FB FRIEND
WEBSITE  /  NEWSLETTER  /  INSTAGRAM
BOOKBUB  /  PINTEREST  /  FB GROUP
AUDIBLE  /  AMAZON  /  GOODREADS
EMAIL: AuthorTaylorRylan@gmail.com



Moonlight by K Evan Coles
AMAZON US  /  AMAZON UK  /  B&N
KOBO  /  iTUNES  /  SMASHWORDS

Unimaginable by Iyana Jenna
Slow Heat by Leta Blake

Casper Gets His Wish by R Cooper

War's Mate by Taylor Rylan

📘🎥Friday's Film Adaptation🎥📘: From Beyond the Grave by R Chetwynd-Hayes


Summary:
A collection of R. Chetwynd-Hayes's short stories, including The Elemental, The Birth, The Jumpity-Jim, The Wanderer, and more.

Some of the stories from the movie can also be found in The Unbidden and Cold Terror.


An anthology of four short horror stories revolving around an antique shop and its mysterious owner.  Four customers purchase (or take) items from Temptations Limited, an antiques shop whose motto is "Offers You Cannot Resist". A nasty fate awaits those who cheat the shop's Proprietor.

The Gatecrasher
An Act of Kindness
The Elementals
The Door

Release Date: February 23, 1974
Release Time: 97 minutes

Cast:
Peter Cushing as Antique Shop Proprietor
Donald Pleasence as Jim Underwood
Angela Pleasence as Emily Underwood
Ian Bannen as Christopher Lowe
Diana Dors as Mabel Lowe
Nyree Dawn Porter as Susan Warren
David Warner as Edward Charlton
Ian Ogilvy as William Seaton
Ian Carmichael as Reggie Warren
Lesley-Anne Down as Rosemary Seaton
Jack Watson as Sir Michael Sinclair
Margaret Leighton as Madame Orloff
John O'Farrell as Stephen Lowe
Marcel Steiner as Mirror Demon
Wendy Allnutt as Pamela
Rosalind Ayres as Prostitute/Edward's first victim
Tommy Godfrey as Mr. Jeffries
Ben Howard as Burglar





Author Bio:
Ronald Chetwynd-Hayes was an author, best known for his ghost stories. His first published work was the science fiction novel The Man From The Bomb in 1959. He went on to publish many collections and ten other novels including The Grange, The Haunted Grange, And Love Survived and The Curse of the Snake God. He also edited over 20 anthologies. Several of his short works were adapted into anthology style movies in the United Kingdom, including The Monster Club and From Beyond the Grave. Chetwynd-Hayes' book The Monster Club contains references to a film-maker called Vinke Rocnnor, an anagram of Kevin Connor, the director of From Beyond the Grave.


IMDB  /  INDIE BOUND  /  B&N
AMAZON  /  WIKI  /  GOODREADS



👿💀👻Unfortunately many online booksellers such as Amazon were from 3rd party sellers
asking unreasonably high prices that I could not in good faith include the links here.
I suggest your best bet would be local used bookstores and/or libraries👻💀👿


Film
AMAZON US  /  AMAZON UK  /  B&N
ALL MOVIE  /  WIKI  /  IMDB  /  TCM



Blog Tour: Wrestling with Hope by DH Starr

Title: Wrestling with Hope
Author: DH Starr
Series: Wrestling #4
Genre: M/M Romance
Release Date: October 7, 2019

Summary:
Forced to move from place to place, never setting down roots, robbed Scott Thayer of any thread of stability during his childhood. No matter how hard he tried, he could never please his distant and judgmental father. If his own father couldn’t love him, who could?

Two years after last setting eyes on the man whose approval he’d never win, he’s found a good life, attending college, become a star on the wrestling team, built a home with his lover Derek, and surrounded himself with people who love him.

An unexpected note from his father, saying, “I want to see you,” turns Scott’s world upside down. Why, after all this time, does the man want back into his life, just when Scott’s wounds have begun to heal? Should he risk his happiness and peace of mind to accept the invitation from someone who’d left him so damaged?

Or will he finally find closure and slam the door on his pain and never look back?


The scent of coffee wafted up the stairs to Scott’s room. Ah. Christmas morning. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes, slipped out of bed, and meandered toward the kitchen, stopping at the bathroom along the way.

His mother sat at the table reading a newspaper, gripping the sides so they crinkled. “Morning.” She put the paper aside, crossed the room, and placed an awkward kiss on his cheek. “Want some coffee?”

What’s got her twisted in knots? “Merry Christmas, Mom. I can get it myself.” Scott trudged to the cupboard, procured a mug, poured himself some coffee, and heaped two large spoonsfuls of sugar into the steaming black liquid. Heaven. The heat going down his throat. The bitter scent filtering into his nose. The caffeine which seemed to instantly filter into his system. They all melded together into one perfect waking up experience. He propped himself against the counter and closed his eyes. Coffee drinking, a bad habit he didn’t intend to quit. Plus, he needed to mentally prepare for whatever his mother stressed about.

After a few sips, he opened his eyes to find his mother ogling him, her hands folded tightly. The newspaper lay forgotten on the table. “Scott, there’s something I think you should see.” She motioned toward the kitchen table where a white envelope took the place where his breakfast should be.

No “Merry Christmas” or “how’d you sleep?” Scott gripped the edge of the counter, preparing himself for the worst.

His mother continued without any buildup or preliminary warnings. She picked up the card. “This came for you the other day. I wasn’t sure when to give it to you, and it’s Christmas so I’m probably an idiot to give it to you today, but it’s not right for me to hold onto it”.

She’s rambling. His mother handed the card to Scott, then scurried to the sink and rinsed out her mug for much longer than probably necessary.
Scott’s heart skipped a beat, then pounded. He recognized the handwriting. Dad.

“What’s this?” A stupid question, but at least asking gave him a minute to process what he held in his hand. Why would his father, after two decades of never giving him a card or any other kindness, reach out to him now?

“I think you should open it and find out for yourself.” His mother kept her back to him and, upon closer inspection, he noticed her shoulders pulled up close to her ears, her posture as rigid as a board.

What could be so earth-changing his negligent father would take the time to write him? For the past two years the man had dropped off the face of the planet. No phone calls. No nothing.

Scott peeled back the corner of the seal and slid his finger along the top of the envelope. Each act seemed independent from the other. Opening the envelope, retrieving the card, reading the front. Steps to prolong actually seeing what dear old Dad had to say.

No sense in delaying things any further. Scott flipped the card open.

Son,

Odd way to begin since his father never called him son before. Sometimes Scott wondered if his dad remembered his name. Their interaction usually consisted of barked orders.

I know it’s been a while and I’m sorry. Mom says you’re doing well. I’d like to see you.

Dad.

Scott read the words three more times before placing the card on the table facedown. His heart, which had thrashed feverishly moments earlier, slowed to a steady, even beat, eerily slow and calm. Dad asked about me? Apologized? Wants to meet?

The room began to spin. Scott sat where his mom had been sitting. Just when his life seemed to be leveling out, this had to happen? “What’s going on, Mom?”

His mother turned from the sink and scrutinized Scott without saying anything. By the soulful expression on her face and the shimmering in her eyes, no words were needed to let Scott know something big was up. “You’ll have to make a decision about whether you want to call your father. When I spoke to him, I told him I’d let you choose what to do without getting involved.”

“Mom!” Now wasn’t the time for bullshit.

“All right. Okay.” She wrung her hands together, the whites of her knuckles showing. “He doesn’t simply want to reach out. He needs to talk to you about something.”

His heart sped up again. “What!”

Nervous chuckles filled the space between them. “Was that a question or a statement?” Her tightly clenched hands revealed nervousness, but she made eye contact. “It’s not for me to share, but I think you should meet with him.”

Panic clasped Scott’s throat with a vice grip. “Where is he? I haven’t heard from him in two years. Has he been living in Massachusetts all this time?” Scott wasn’t sure what he wanted the answer to be. Part of him hoped he’d moved across the country. At least that might explain why he’d simply disappeared from their lives so completely.

“He’s been living out of state. He came back because…” She closed her eyes, her lips thinning into narrow lines. “It’s for him to share with you, honey. He’s staying at the Marriot in Boston.”

Dad, in Boston, a ten-minute subway ride away. Why reveal all of this on Christmas morning? “When does he want to see me?”

“You’ll have to call him and set something up.” She crossed the room and caressed Scott’s cheek. Despite the fact she’d squished all the blood out of her hands, her palms were warm. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, but at least give him a call.”

Apparently, Hell finally froze over. He’d have believed icicles formed on brimstone far easier than believing his father had a sudden change of heart and wanted to get to know the son he’d ignored and used as a personal slave for the entire duration of their relationship. “He didn’t leave a number.”

“I’ve got the number right here.” Mom reached into her jeans pocket and withdrew a tightly folded sheet of paper. “I told him I’d give it to you but made it clear you would be the one to decide to use it.”

“Does he want me to call him today?” Scott looked at his mother’s hand but made no move to retrieve the slip of paper.

Her expression softened to one of silent understanding. “I’ll leave it here on the fridge.” She secured the number facedown to the steel surface with a I Heart My Gay Son magnet.

Scott stared at the tiny slip of paper, silence growing like a storm cloud between them. No words. No thoughts. Just the thrumming of his heart and a lead weight hanging from his shoulders. He left the kitchen, tramped to the bathroom, stripped, and turned on the shower. As he waited for steam to fill the room, he inspected himself in the mirror. Other than his mussed-up hair and a slight flush to his cheeks, this morning seemed like any other. Better. A second holiday in a row surrounded by love and warmth.

Funny how a few words written on a card and ten measly digits sticking to the refrigerator could change everything.

Scott thought he knew his stance on his dad. The guy was an asshole. A cruel, unloving, abandoning butt-muncher who Scott learned to push almost entirely from his mind.

His reflection slowly disappeared from view, erased by a thin layer of fog on the glass. He stepped into the shower. Whatever decisions he needed to make, they could wait until later.

He tried thinking of Derek. Not even his cheerful smile and adoring eyes filled with love could delete the last ten minutes or the image of the slip of paper on the fridge. What in the hell did his father want? Why would he reach out now… just when Scott had finally put his past behind him and begun to view the future as bright with possibility?

“Damn him to hell.” He hadn’t meant to speak out loud, and he certainly hadn’t meant to curse his father to eternal fire. Forgiveness was the best cure… so said all the self-help books espousing the bullshit line. But were the strangers who wrote those thinking of his dad when they sold their psycho-crap?

Clean, shaven, and just as confused as he’d been before he entered the bathroom, Scott made quick work of dressing. Whatever he decided about calling his father, Christmas at Derek’s and a day sure to be filled with holly-jolly-joy awaited him.


What is the biggest influence/interest that brought you to this genre?
Born in the 70s and a teen in the 80s, being gay was nothing like it is today. It was far better than earlier years, but I didn’t have many role models to look up to. No one to show me that being gay was okay. I came to that realization on my own one fateful and amazing night when I stared at myself in the mirror, cried, and said, “You’re a good person and I love you. You’re good and your gay, so being gay must be good.” Gotta love the Transitive Property in mathematics. I got into writing gay romance to provide role models for other young gay people to let them know their feelings are not new or wrong, but that many, many others have walked the same road they have. I continued writing because we all struggle to find the perfect person for us and that is also represented in my books. Love is love and everyone deserves it. They say writers write what they know and I know what it’s like to struggle with coming to terms with being gay and beign in gay relationships.

When writing a book, what is your favorite part of the creative process(outline, plot, character names, editing, etc)?
Derek and Scott are the perfect example of my favorite part of writing. I always knew I had stories to tell, but I never knew my characters would develop lives of their own. When you write, you have an idea of where you want the story to go and what will happen. But none of my stories have ended up the way I planned. Derek and Scott have evolved so much into real people for me, that I sometimes feel like the conduit for them to share with you their own story. Watching the characters develop and grow in complexity and nuance is by far my favorite part of writing and this never came together so much as it did in Wrestling With Hope where Scott finally lets the reader deep into his heart and mind. Through books 1 - 3, the reader has gotten to know Derek a bit more intimately.

When reading a book, what genre do you find most interesting/intriguing? 
My personal favorite is sci-fi. I love the world building and the creativity. Sci-fi gives authors licence to break the rules of believability. It enables the reader to suspend reality for a while and to sink into something completely new and different. I include paranormal in this too, because vampires, werewolves/shifters, witches, spirits, etc. are just so damn fun. I actually have one sci-fi I wrote, Feed, Prey, Love, but I got the rights back and haven’t gotten around to re-releasing it yet. I even bought a new cover for it which is amazing, so I really should get that book back out into the world.

If you could co-author with any author, past or present, who would you choose? 
Eden Winters. She has this knack for keeping action tight and packed with nail-biting tension. Her characters, particularly Bo and Lucky in the Diversion series, are rich and complex, much like how I like to write my own. Although I tend to incorporate a bit more emotional angst into my stories than she does, I think the combination of my piping hot, unappologetic sex scenes and emotional heart-string tugs paired with her ability to keep the pace going and sink deep into her character’s point of view would make for an amazing combo release.

Have you always wanted to write or did it come to you "later in life"?
When I was younger, I had a very active fantasy life. Like I said earlier, I was a gay young adult with no real role models. And I was a total TV head, knowing the lineup for each weeknight show and Saturday morning cartoon. Shows such as Gilligan’s Island (Maryann), Love Boat (Julie), and movies like Grease (Olivia Newton John) provided me with my first crushes and I’d lay in bed imagining relationships with them where we could fly and go anywhere and do anything. My final girl-crush was Joni from Joni Loves Chachi. I remember this because that’s when I truly figured out that my gayness was not a phase, but was very real because my crush shifted from Joni to Chachi. That one continued for such a long time. Have you ever seen him in Zapped? Yum!


Anyhow, my point, as I have digressed, if that I’ve always created stories in my head, so when I finally sat down many years later to put a story to paper, it was like breathing cleaner air for the first time. It just clicked and I loved every minute of it.



Author Bio:
D.H. Starr is an educator by day and an author at heart.

Writing erotic romance in any genre and young adult stories as well, he likes to explore the emotions of discovering oneself while also allowing someone else into your heart as well. His style has been called angsty at times, and he takes pride in torturing his poor protagonists, making them work for their happily ever after.


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Wrestling with Hope #4

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