Padme's Library: September 2022

Friday, September 30, 2022

🎃📘🎥Friday's Film Adaptation🎥📘🎃: Invasion of the Body Snatchers by Jack Finney

Summary:

Celebrate one of the earliest science fiction novels by rediscovering Jack Finney’s internationally acclaimed Invasion of the Body Snatchers—which Stephen King calls a story “to be read and savored for its own satisfactions,” now repackaged with a foreword by #1 New York Times bestselling author Dean Koontz.

On a quiet fall evening in the peaceful town of Mill Valley, California, Dr. Miles Bennell discovers an insidious, horrifying plot. Subtly, almost imperceptibly, alien life-forms are taking over the bodies and minds of his neighbors, friends, family, the woman he loves, and the entire world as he knows it.

First published in 1955, this classic science fiction thriller about the ultimate alien invasion and the triumph of the human spirit over an invisible enemy has inspired multiple film adaptations and entertained readers for decades. This repackaged edition features a new cover by Hugo award–winning illustrator, John Picacio and a foreword by New York Times bestselling author, Dean Koontz.

Chapter One

I warn you that what you're starting to read is full of loose ends and unanswered questions. It will not be neatly tied up at the end, everything resolved and satisfactorily explained. Not by me it won't, anyway. Because I can't say I really know exactly what happened, or why, or just how it began, how it ended, or if it has ended; and I've been right in the thick of it. Now if you don't like that kind of story, I'm sorry, and you'd better not read it. All I can do is tell what I know.

For me it began around six o'clock, a Thursday evening, August 13, 1953, when I let my last patient – a sprained thumb – out of the side door of my office, with the feeling the day wasn't over for me. And I wished I weren't a doctor, because with me that kind of hunch is often right. I've gone on a vacation certain I'd be back in a day or so; as I was, for a measles epidemic. I've gone to bed staggering-tired, knowing I'd be up in a couple hours driving out to a country call; as I did, have done often, and will again.

Now, at my desk, I added a note to my patient's case record, then I took the medicinal brandy, went to the washroom, and mixed a drink, something I almost never did. But I did that night, and standing at the window behind my desk, staring down at Main Street, I sipped it. I'd had an emergency appendectomy and no lunch that afternoon, and felt irritable. I still wasn't used to being at loose ends, and I wished I had some fun to look forward to that evening, for a change.

So when I heard the light rapping on the outer locked door of my reception room, I just wanted to stand there motionless till whoever it was went away. In any other business you could do that, but not in mine. My nurse had gone – she'd probably raced the last patient to the stairway, winning handily – and now, for a moment or so, one foot on the radiator under the window, I just sipped my drink, looking down at the street and pretending, as the gentle rapping began again, that I wasn't going to answer it. It wasn't dark yet, and wouldn't be for sometime, but it wasn't full daylight any more, either. A few neon lights had come on, and Main Street below was empty – at six, around here, nearly everyone is eating – and I felt lonely and depressed.

Then the rapping sounded again, and I set my drink down, walked out, unlocked the door, and opened it. I guess I blinked a couple of times, my mouth open foolishly, because Becky Driscoll was standing there.

"Hello, Miles." She smiled, pleased at the surprise and pleasure in my face.

"Becky," I murmured, stepping aside to let her in, "it's good to see you. Come on in!" I grinned suddenly, and Becky walked in past me, and on through the reception room toward my office. "What is this," I said, closing the door, "a professional call?" I was so relieved and pleased that I got excited and exuberant. "We have a special on appendectomies this week," I called gaily; "better stock up," and she turned to smile. Her figure, I saw, following along after her, was still marvelous. Becky has a fine, beautifully fleshed skeleton; too wide in the hips, I've heard women say, but I never heard a man say it.

"No," – Becky stopped at my desk, and turned to answer my question – "this isn't a professional call exactly."

I picked up my glass, raising it to the light. "I drink all day, as everyone knows. On operating days especially. And every patient has to have one with me – how about it?"

The glass nearly slipped through my fingers, because Becky sobbed, a dry, down-in-the-throat gasp, her breath sucking in convulsively. Her eyes brimmed with sudden bright tears, and she turned quickly away, shoulders hunching, hands rising toward her face. "I could use one" – she could hardly speak.

After a second I said, "Sit down," speaking very gently, and Becky dropped into the leather chair before my desk. I went to the washroom, mixed her a drink, taking my time about it, came back, and set it on the glass-topped desk before her.

Then I walked around the desk and sat down facing her, leaning back in my swivel chair, and when Becky glanced up, I just nodded at her glass, gently urging her to drink, and I took a swallow from mine, smiling at her over the rim, giving her a few moments to get hold of herself. For the first time I really saw her face again. I saw it was the same nice face, the bones prominent and well-shaped under the skin; the same kind and intelligent eyes, the rims a little red just now; the same full, good-looking mouth. Her hair was different; it was shorter, or something; but it was the same rich brown, almost black, thick and wiry, and looking naturally wavy, though I remembered it wasn't. She'd changed, of course; she wasn't eighteen now, but well into her twenties, and looked it, no more and no less. But she was also still the same girl I'd known in high school; I'd dated her a few times in my senior year. "It's good to see you again, Becky," I said, saluting her with my glass and smiling. Then I took a sip, lowering my eyes. I wanted to get her talking on something else, before she got down to whatever the trouble was.

"Good to see you, Miles." Becky took a deep breath and sat back in her chair, glass in hand; she knew what I was doing, and went along with it. "Remember when you called for me once? We were going to a Hi-Y dance, and you had that writing on your forehead."

I remembered, but raised my brows questioningly.

"You had M.B. loves B.D. printed on your forehead in red ink or lipstick or something. Said you were going to the dance that way. I had to get tough before you'd wipe it off."

I grinned. "Yeah, I remember." Then I remembered something else. "Becky, I heard about your divorce, of course; and I'm sorry."

She nodded. "Thanks, Miles. And I've heard about yours; I'm sorry, too."

I shrugged. "Guess we're lodge brothers now."

"Yes." She got down to business. "Miles, I've come about Wilma." Wilma was her cousin.

"What's the trouble?"

"I don't know." Becky stared at her glass for a moment, then looked up at me again. "She has a – " she hesitated; people hate to give names to these things. "Well, I guess you'd call it a delusion. You know her uncle – Uncle Ira?"

"Yeah."

"Miles, she's got herself thinking that he isn't her uncle."

"How do you mean?" I took a sip from my glass. "That they aren't really related?"

"No, no." She shook her head impatiently. "I mean she thinks he's" – one shoulder lifted in a puzzled shrug – "an impostor, or something. Someone who only looks like Ira."

I stared at Becky. I wasn't getting this; Wilma was raised by her aunt and uncle. "Well, can't she tell?"

"No. She says he looks exactly like Uncle Ira, talks just like him, acts just like him – everything. She just knows it isn't Ira, that's all. Miles, I'm worried sick!" The tears sprang to her eyes again.

"Work on that drink," I murmured, nodding at her glass, and I took a big swallow of mine, and sat back in my chair, staring at the ceiling, thinking about this. Wilma had her problems, but she was tough-minded and bright; about thirty-five years old. She was red-cheeked, short, and plump, with no looks at all; she never married, which is too bad. I'm certain she'd have liked to, and I think she'd have made a fine wife and mother, but that's how it goes. She ran the local rental library and greeting-card shop, and did a good job of it. She made a living out of it, anyway, which isn't so easy in a small town. Wilma hadn't turned sour or bitter; she had a shrewd, humorously cynical turn of mind; she knew what was what, and didn't fool herself. I couldn't see Wilma letting mental troubles get to her, but still, you never know. I looked back at Becky. "What do you want me to do?"

"Come out there tonight, Miles." She leaned forward across the desk, pleading. "Right now, if you possibly can, before it gets dark. I want you to look at Uncle Ira, talk to him; you've known him for years."

I had my glass raised halfway to my mouth, but I set it back down on the desk, staring at Becky. "What do you mean? What're you talking about, Becky? Don't you think he's Ira?"

She flushed. "Of course; of course I do!" Suddenly she was biting her lips, shaking her head helplessly from side to side. "Oh, I don't know, Miles, I don't know. Certainly he's Uncle Ira! Of course he is, but… it's just that Wilma's so positive!" She actually wrung her hands, a thing you read about but rarely see. "Miles, I don't know what's going on out there!"

I stood up and came around the desk to stand beside her chair. "Well, let's go see," I said gently. "Take it easy, Becky," and I put a hand on her shoulder comfortingly. Her shoulder, under the summer dress, felt firm and round and warm, and I took my hand off. "Whatever's happening, there's a cause, and we'll find it and fix it. Come on."

I turned, opened the wall closet beside my desk to get my hat, and felt like a fool. Because my hat was sitting where I always keep it, on Fred's head. Fred is a nicely polished, completely articulated skeleton, and I keep it in my closet, together with a smaller, female skeleton; can't have them standing around the office frightening the customers. My father gave them to me one Christmas, my first semester in medical school. They're a fine useful thing for a medical student to have, of course, but I think my father's real reason for giving them to me was because he could – and did – present them in a huge, six-foot-long, tissue-wrapped box, tied with red and green ribbon. Where he got a box that big, I don't know. Now, Fred and his companion are in my office closet, and of course I always hang my hat on his polished, brachycephalic head. My nurse thinks it's a riot, and it got a little smile now from Becky.

I shrugged, picked up my hat, and closed the door. "Sometimes I think I clown around too much; pretty soon people won't trust me to prescribe aspirin for a head cold." I dialled telephone-answering, told them where I was going, and we left the office to go take a look at Uncle Ira.

Just to get the record straight: my full name is Miles Boise Bennell, I'm twenty-eight years old, and I've been practising medicine in Santa Mira, California, for just over a year. Before that I interned, and before that, Stanford Medical College. I was born and raised in Santa Mira, and my father was a doctor here before me, and a good one, so I haven't had too much trouble snaring customers.

I'm five feet eleven inches tall, weigh one-sixty-five, have blue eyes, and black, kind of wavy hair, pretty thick, though already there's the faintest beginning of a bald spot on the crown; it runs in the family. I don't worry about it; nothing you can do about it, anyway, though you'd think the doctors would find something. I play golf and swim whenever I can, so I'm always pretty tanned. Five months earlier I'd been divorced, and now I lived alone in a big old-fashioned frame house, with plenty of big trees and lots of lawn space around it. It was my parents' house before they died, and now it's mine. That's about all. I drive a '52 Ford convertible, one of those fancy green ones, because I don't know of any law absolutely requiring a doctor to drive a small black coup'e.

We turned into Dewey Avenue and Uncle Ira was out on the lawn before his home. It's a big, wide, quiet street, all the houses set well apart, and way back from the sidewalk. I had the top down, and when we drew in to the curb, Uncle Ira looked up, saw us, and waved. "Evening, Becky. Hi, Miles," he called, smiling.

We answered, waving back, and got out of the car. Becky went on up the walk to the house, speaking pleasantly to Uncle Ira as she passed. I strolled across the lawn toward him, casually, hands in pockets, just passing the time of day. "Evening, Mr. Lentz."

"How's business, Miles? Kill many today?" He grinned as though this were a brand-new joke.

"Bagged the limit." I smiled, stopping beside him. This was the usual routine between us, whenever we ran into each other around town, and now I stood, looking him in the eyes, his face not two feet from mine.

It was nice out, temperature around sixty-five, and the light was good; not full daylight, but still plenty of sun. I don't know just what I thought I might see, but of course it was Uncle Ira, the same Mr. Lentz I'd known as a kid, delivering an evening paper to the bank every night. He was head teller then – he's retired, now – and was always urging me to bank my huge profits from the newspaper route. Now he looked just about the same, except that it was fifteen years later and his hair was white. He's big, well over six feet, a little shambling in his gait now, but still a vigorous, shrewd-eyed, race old man. And this was him, no one else, standing there on the lawn in the early evening, and I began to feel scared about Wilma.

We chatted about nothing much – local politics, the weather, business, the new state highway through town they'd been surveying for – and I studied every line and pore of his face, listened to each tone and inflection of his voice, alert to every move and gesture. You can't really do two things at once, though, and he noticed. "You worried or something, Miles? Seem a little absent-minded tonight."

I smiled and shrugged. "Just taking my work home with me, I guess."

"Mustn't do that, boy; I never did. Forgot all about the bank the minute I put my hat on at night. Course you don't get to be president that way." He grinned. "But the president's dead now, and I'm still alive."

Hell, it was Uncle Ira, every hair, every line of his face, each word, movement, and thought, and I felt like a fool. Becky and Wilma came out of the house and sat down on the porch swing, and I waved to them, then walked on up to the house.

Soulless pods take over the inhabitants of a small California town.

Release Date: February 5, 1956

Release Time: 80 minutes

Director: Don Siegel

Cast:

Kevin McCarthy as Dr. Miles Bennell

Dana Wynter as Becky Driscoll

King Donovan as Jack Belicec

Carolyn Jones as Theodora "Teddy" Belicec

Larry Gates as Dr. Dan Kauffman

Virginia Christine as Wilma Lentz

Ralph Dumke as Police Chief Nick Grivett

Kenneth Patterson as Stanley Driscoll

Guy Way as Officer Sam Janzek

Jean Willes as Nurse Sally Withers

Eileen Stevens as Anne Grimaldi

Beatrice Maude as Grandma Grimaldi

Whit Bissell (uncredited) as Dr. Hill

Richard Deacon (uncredited) as Dr. Bassett

Bobby Clark as Jimmy Grimaldi

Tom Fadden as Uncle Ira Lentz

Everett Glass as Dr. Ed Pursey

Dabbs Greer as Mac Lomax

Pat O'Malley as Baggage Man

Sam Peckinpah as Charlie, the Gas Meter Reader

Trailer

Clips

Author Bio:

Jack Finney (October 2, 1911 – November 14, 1995) was the author of the much-loved and critically acclaimed novel Time and Again, as well as its sequel, From Time to Time. Best known for his thrillers and science fiction, a number of his books—including Invasion of the Body Snatchers—have been made into movies.

iTUNES / SIMON & SCHUSTER

IMDB / KOBO / AUDIBLE / B&N

GOOGLE PLAY / INDIE BOUND

AMAZON / WIKI / GOODREADS

AMAZON US / AMAZON UK / B&N

iTUNES AUDIO / GOOGLE PLAY

KOBO / iTUNES / AUDIBLE

SIMON & SCHUSTER / WIKI

INDIE BOUND / GOODREADS TBR

Film

AMAZON US / AMAZON UK / B&N

ALL MOVIE / WIKI / IMDB / TCM

Monday, September 26, 2022

👻🎃Monday Morning's Menu🎃👻: Fergus's Hurricane by Taylor Rylan

Summary:

Vampires of the Beloved Gem #3

Even aged Scotch cannot compare to the sweetest wine when it comes to your beloved.

Fergus McGregor doesn’t like change. It was difficult enough leaving behind the pub that had been in his family for centuries. Now he has to accept not only a new boat but also more help behind the bar? Though he prefers to work alone, when he sees the soulful brown eyes across from him, they make him want things he never thought he wanted.

Seven years have passed since Montgomery’s older brother left and came to the human realm, leaving a young Montgomery behind. Now, Montgomery is old enough to leave the fae realm and finally find his own mate. He doesn’t care who he is, only that he got away from his parents. First, according to the Fate Thomas, he has to take a little vacation aboard the Beloved Gem. But who is the cranky redhead behind the bar, and why does he make his body tingle?

Montgomery grew up thinking vampires couldn’t be trusted around fae because of the draw of their blood. He’s learned differently and discovered the pleasure from Fergus’s bite can be quite…enticing. And well, Fergus learns just how much trouble a little fae can be.

Fergus’s Hurricane is the third book in the Vampires of the Beloved Gem series. Each book in the series focuses on a different couple, but these books should be read in order as there is an ongoing backstory, and previous couples will make appearances in future books. This is a fated mate MPREG story with plenty of sexy times. You should expect all the normal vampire shenanigans and sometimes love bites in unexpected places.

FERGUS

Mo chridhe: my heart (mo CHree-yuh) Stress is on the first syllable CH pronounced as in loch or Bach; not as in church

Was it too much to ask that my crates of supplies be put where I wanted them? It wasn’t as if this was a new request. Not at all. It had been the same request since I had joined the Gem and Master Nikolai discovered I had bartending experience. If owning a pub for the better part of a century counted as experience.

I checked the new stockroom and cringed. The beer was stacked on top of the liquor, and both were on top of the kegs. Whoever had delivered the supplies this time around didn’t know what they were doing. And whoever had accepted the delivery was going to find their arse chewed out just as soon as I found out who they were.

I started sorting crates, organizing to type and if they needed refrigerated or not. A knock on the storeroom door stopped my progress. When Matteo’s curly head poked in, I cursed under my breath.

“I heard that. Too bad though. I found you, and Master Nikolai is back and is asking for you.”

“Be right along.” I placed the case of longnecks with the rest of the beer and left the storeroom. Matteo was right outside the door, waiting for me.

“Matteo, I have to ask.”

“What’s that?”

“How is it that you are so much shorter than the rest of us?” It was rude and I knew it, but I had wondered for years.

“Why are you so much grouchier than the rest of us?” Matteo fired back.

I glared at him. I was not grouchy. Matteo pointed at me, then rolled his eyes. He ignored me the rest of the way through the boat. When we finally reached Master Nikolai’s office, Matteo knocked twice, opened the door, gestured me inside, then closed the door with him outside. I turned, looking around the room, finding a smiling Master sitting on the front of his desk.

“Master,” I said, dipping my head in respect.

“Fergus. Come in and have a seat.”

That did not bode well. What had I done? I tried to remember what I could have done to get myself into trouble, but I was coming up with nothing. Remembering Master Nikolai had just come back from a long weekend in Montana visiting Gio, I brought up the baby.

“How is little Angelo doing, sir?” I asked as I sat. The transformation on Master Nikolai’s face was instant.

“Getting bigger. He’s gaining weight and is completely healthy. You should see Lucius with him. That baby has him completely wrapped around all of his fingers. That is not why I asked for you to be brought to my office, so don’t think I will let you distract me by mentioning my grandson.”

“No, sir.” I was shocked when I first heard that Master Nikolai had a son, Giovanni. Diego told me that he wasn’t his biological son but had raised him from when he was a young boy, and he considered him as such.

“It is kind of you to ask, and when I talk to them this evening, I will be sure to let them know you asked after him. He is such a joyful little baby. But the reason I asked for you is because I have hired a new bartender.”

My world dropped out from under me.

“I’m sorry…I have displeased you in some way?”

“I did not mean it that way. Only that I have hired a second one. You will be working in shifts now, allowing you to have more downtime.”

“I do not require time off of work.”

Master Nikolai pinched the bridge of his nose. “Fergus, although I appreciate your dedication to what you do, you have not taken a single vacation day since you came to us fifteen years ago. You are an excellent bartender. But with the now larger boat, there will be more guests. That means more people at the bar.”

Would it though? The majority of my customers were the humans that used to be on the cruise. We catered to only paranormals now, and more often than not, they were not what one would call big drinkers. It took so much more alcohol to affect us.

“If that is what you wish, then I will do my best to welcome them.”

“Good. His name is Adam. He will be at the bar at five this afternoon.”

“Yes, sir.” I sat there, waiting. Was that all or was there more? With Master Nikolai, you never knew.

“Good. I am looking for a third, but these things take time as I am incredibly picky about it. You understand, don’t you?”

“Not really, Master. But you feel a need to hire additional bartenders, who am I to argue?” I started to stand but thought better of it and stopped.

“There was nothing else, Fergus. You are free to go back to whatever it was you were doing.”

“Righting the stockroom. I wasn’t here when the order was delivered.”

“Another reason for a second bartender. It will allow for you to not always have to be present for things such as this. I apologize if a mess was made of your stockroom. I will have someone along to help you right it.”

“No need, Master. I was almost finished when Matteo found me.”

“Very well. I will see you later this evening, then.”

I knew I had been dismissed, so I nodded to my master and left the office. I found Matteo standing just outside the door but ignored him. I found my way back to the bar and went back to fixing my stockroom.

Why would he hire a new bartender? I didn’t need a day off. When I took time off, things like this happened. I looked around my stockroom and tried to remain calm. Another bartender just meant someone else in my space.

I did not like people in my space. Ever. It wasn’t until Diego’s little beloved came along that I let someone behind the bar—other than Master Nikolai, that was. But I knew that wouldn’t last because little Nigel had been pregnant. Now he and Diego were new dads, and Nigel was busy taking care of Noah.

I sighed. I missed my family. Mostly I missed my nieces and nephews. I used to love getting to spend time with them, but we all had to move on because there were too many questions about how we never seemed to age.

Which meant an “accident” had happened, taking the lives of several of us. The younger generation was still there, carrying on the family tradition. While my sisters and brother had moved to other places in Europe and Australia, I chose to come to America simply because I was ready for a change. Master Nikolai was more than willing to offer that to me, something I was grateful for.

I finished organizing the stockroom, then started stocking the bar. I needed it to be ready. It was the first night of a new cruise, which was always busy, and it wouldn’t be good to run out of something if it could be prevented by simply stocking the bar.

After I had made sure everything was ready, I went to the employee dining hall and grabbed lunch. I was perfectly happy sitting all by myself at a corner table, but that simply wasn’t meant to be. No. Diego decided he needed to join me. I wouldn’t have minded if he had his beloved and their son with him. But just Diego? I found myself continually struggling to relate to our coven’s second.

“I did not do anything,” I said and simply went back to eating my meal.

“Who said you did?”

I set my fork down, wiped my mouth, then took a drink of water before returning the glass to the table. “In the fifteen years I have been here, I can count on one hand how many times you have willingly come over to sit with me. What is the issue today, Diego?”

Diego looked genuinely surprised at my statement, but it was true. True, I didn’t make an effort to fraternize with the others, and I was a bit…grouchy. But either I was in trouble, or Diego needed something.

“Very well. I was sent by Nigel. He had asked about you and wondered how you were doing. I told him I would check in with you and see.”

I felt myself soften at the mention of the sweet shifter. He was so overwhelmed and sick when he first arrived on the boat. I felt bad for him, did my best to distract him from his stomach being upset, and realized I liked his company. He was…safe. He was already mated to Diego, and I knew that the younger vampire wouldn’t think I was after his beloved.

Nigel was funny, easy to talk to, and reminded me of my brother’s beloved. Having him around seemed to make the evenings go faster and helped to alleviate some of the homesickness I knew I was having.

“That is so very thoughtful of him. How is he doing? And your little babe? I haven’t seen Noah in a few weeks.”

“Nigel has been spending some time in Amherst. His penguin felt the need to come out more than usual, and they have more room and a pool.” Diego chuckled while staring out the window at the river. “When I arrived on Saturday morning, it was to see both Nigel and Theodore waddling through the manor as if it were a normal thing.” Diego shrugged, then looked at me. “I guess for them it was. Something like that really wouldn’t be appropriate here on the boat. He can shift in our suite, but unless I’m with him, there is nobody to watch Noah.”

“Is this normal? For him to spend so much time shifted?”

“I asked. Theo said it wasn’t unheard of, especially after a pregnancy. Anyway, Nigel is in our suite for this cruise. He’s said his penguin is finally happy, and he’s really missed being away from me. I’ll admit, it’s been difficult not having them here on the boat with me.”

“Although I cannot relate to missing my beloved, I do know what it is like to miss loved ones. I am glad they are here with you. Any news on the Evergreen pack?”

“Not since the alpha was put to death. With his oldest already dead, the pack was passed down to his youngest since they had a daughter that had moved away and had no interest in coming back to run the pack. The youngest seems more accepting and understanding. He has his work cut out for him though. The pack seems to have a lot of members that share beliefs with their old alpha.”

I winced. The beliefs of the old alpha and his firstborn were the reason Diego and Nigel had issues while out in town in the first place. It was also why Diego had done what he had to protect his then pregnant beloved. None of us had faulted him for it, and most all of us had been put in a situation where we’d had to take a life before. Sadly, it was just how many paranormals had to live their lives.

“Yeah. On the one hand, I feel bad for the guy. But on the other, I don’t. So many of us were dealt shitty parents or families to have to deal with. But he’s going to have his work cut out for him with weeding out the ones left in the pack that didn’t want to move forward with the times.”

“I haven’t heard. Are they causing issues still?” I picked up my water and took another drink.

“Not for us, no. Last I heard, the new council had enforcers that they’ve started sending out. You’d have to ask Master Nikolai more about that though. He has more of an inside on that through Gio.”

“If the mood strikes, I will.” I glanced at my watch, already knowing it was getting close to time for the guests to start boarding. I stood, grabbing my plate and water glass, hoping Diego would take the hint.

“Good. By the way.”

I stopped and returned my attention to the younger vampire. When he didn’t continue, I raised an eyebrow at him.

“Nigel would very much like it if you would come by tomorrow before your shift to see him.”

I was a bit surprised because I’d never been invited to anyone’s suite before. I’d never even hung out with them outside of normal “staff” meetings.

“I will stop by before lunch if that time works for you.”

“It does. I’ll be sure to let Nigel know.”

I nodded once, then walked away. After I scraped my plate and placed everything in the bin, I went back to my own room. I didn’t ever welcome the guests on board, nor did I attend their first dinner. That meant I would have the afternoon to myself to either rest or triple-check everything in the bar area. The casino didn’t open until 7:00 p.m., and with it, my bar opened. It was quite the gig, actually. I was only technically at work, dealing with guests for seven hours. But there was of course the early morning hours that came with restocking and such.

I ducked into the staff quarters and walked to the middle of the hallway and held my card in front of my room. With the new Gem came new technology, and although I was all for advancement, I missed the old, thick iron keys sometimes. I still had some in a frame in my room, but they just weren’t practical anymore. Pity.

When I stepped inside my room, I sighed in relief. My tiny window was covered, blocking out the sun. Everything was perfectly in its place, and I toed off my shoes before I stripped down to my boxers to take a nap. I had a feeling it was going to be a crazy night, and a nap would most likely do me good, so after I laid my clothes over the back of my lone chair, I turned the light off and walked over to my bed, where I slid between the cool sheets. I sighed at the feeling.

I missed having a warm body lying next to me, but I learned long ago that it did not do well to become too attached to someone that wasn’t my beloved. They either eventually found their own fated mate or simply tired of being associated with a vampire.

Thinking of those past relationships did nothing but cause more frustration, so I rolled over and stared at the white wall. There were thin, light silver stripes on the wallpaper, something that was both a nice touch as well as an annoyance because it simply looked a little too much like a hotel. Then again, we were a floating hotel and casino.

I closed my eyes, wondering if I would be able to doze off, and if so, what would today’s dreams be about? Would I be allowed to rest peacefully, or would my dreams be about past horrors that I would much rather forget?

I lay there, staring at the wall, then rolled to do the same with the ceiling. My mind did not want to give in and rest though, and that would be an issue later this evening if I couldn’t get some sleep.

I pulled my blanket over my head, hoping the added barrier would help trick my body into thinking it was time to be asleep instead of awake. The biggest issue was having to get up in the early morning hours to deal with deliveries. Perhaps Master Nikolai was onto something when he hired another bartender. Having a second person that could be trusted with such things could be beneficial.

I finally felt myself start to become drowsy and closed my eyes and let my body rest, hoping for the best.

When my alarm went off hours later, immediately I felt the boat in motion, telling me that I had slept through not only the departure, which could be a noisy affair with the steam horn, but everything else that had happened since I had eaten my late breakfast.

I lay there a moment, allowing my body to come fully awake, then rolled from the bed to get started with my day. I had to prep the bar and would need to figure out how much the new guy knew or didn’t know.

After a quick shower, I dressed in my uniform of black slacks, a black button-down shirt, and a crimson-red silk tie. I left my room and went to join the others in the dining hall. Like always, I would sit alone, preferring my own company rather than having to listen to the others go on and on about this or that—usually things that did not interest me in the slightest.

Dinner tonight—or lunch for those of us getting ready to come on to shift—consisted of toasted ravioli, salad, garlic knots, and triple-chocolate cake. I did not quite understand the pairing of ravioli with another grain side dish, but it was something I had come to accept. We ate what the guests did, and tonight’s main option was toasted ravioli, so that was what we got.

Why couldn’t we have a good haggis or a meat pie? They had smoked salmon every cruise, so there was that. But still, was it too much to have some beans? Or even a good stew? Aside from my family, I probably missed the foods from Scotland more than anything. But when you landed on a casino riverboat filled with Italians, the cuisine shifted drastically.

I filled my plate, then went back to the table I had been at earlier. I made it halfway through my meal before Diego showed back up. I would have complained a bit if not for the fact that he wasn’t alone.

“Fergus, this is Adam, your new bartender. I thought I would introduce you here, then the two of you can talk about shifts, supplies, and all that other fun stuff before you sulked off to your bar.”

“Hi there. Do you mind if I join you?” Adam asked. I sent Diego a glare while he walked off, smirking. I would definitely get back at him somehow.

“I don’t mind, no. Have a seat.”

“Thanks. My mate is in our room, still trying to come to grips with the fact that we’re on a boat with a bunch of vampires.”

That piqued my interest, and Adam seemed to realize that.

“She’s human. It’s one of the reasons why we’ve not really belonged to a pack or anything for some time. My old pack didn’t accept humans as mates, and my wolf was more than happy to spend time with ours, living in the suburbs.”

“What changed?”

“The same as always, it seems. We don’t age, and others around us did. We decided to sell our house and move elsewhere. It was pure luck I found this position.”

“Do you have any bartending experience at all?”

Adam smiled while chewing.

“I do. I spent the last ten years as head bartender at a popular bar in Colorado. It wasn’t uncommon for us to be filled to capacity every night, even on Tuesdays, which were usually slower for a lot of the other local places.”

“Good to hear. If you’re as good as you are implying, I think we’ll get along just fine.”

“They told me you’d be a hard sell. I hope to prove them wrong.” Adam grinned again, then went back to eating. We ate in silence, something I was grateful for. As the evening went on, I’d find out just how much Adam did or didn’t know.

Author Bio:

The Men of Crooked Bend Series is what started it all for me and it was incredibly difficult to let those men go. It was originally supposed to be a trilogy but it ended up as a ten book series with a bonus book that's part of The Snow Globe Christmas Series. 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, the sheriff's department, as well as quite a few US Marshals. You see some familiar faces but you also meet some very new ones. It’s finally finished and ended up being a nine book series.

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 finished with the planned six books. The Timber Valley Wolf Pack is also finished with six books and now I've moved onto the Warlocks of Amherst Series. This series takes us away from the den and pack and we get to know Edison's warlocks in Amherst, Massachusetts.

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

FACEBOOK / TWITTER / FB FRIEND
WEBSITE / NEWSLETTER / INSTAGRAM

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AUDIBLE / AMAZON / GOODREADS

EMAIL: AuthorTaylorRylan@gmail.com

Fergus’s Hurricane #3

AMAZON US / AMAZON UK

WEBSITE / GOODREADS TBR

Series

AMAZON US / AMAZON UK

WEBSITE / GOODREADS TBR

Sunday, September 25, 2022

Week at a Glance: 9/19/22 - 9/25/22

Monday's Mysterious Mayhem(Tuesday Edition): 🎧Jury of One Audiobook🎧 by Charlie Cochrane

📘🎥Friday's Film Adaptation🎥📘: After All These Years by Susan Isaacs

Saturday's Series Spotlight: Breaking Free by AM Arthur Part 3

Sunday's Short Stack: Force of Nature Anthology by RJ Scott

Sunday's Short Stack: Force of Nature Anthology by RJ Scott

Summary:
Three novels in one anthology from the USA Today Bestselling Author RJ Scott

Seth & Casey
Casey and his class are trapped in the snowstorm of the century. Seth is their only hope.

Alpha Delta
With storms raging in the Norwegian sea, can Finn and Niall rescue each other?

All The Kings Men
After an earthquake destroys LA, will Ryan and Nathan outrun the forest fires?

Seth & Casey
Re-Read Review February 2019:
I usually save my re-reading for the summer months but considering that we are nearing the end of February, not only February but the snowiest February on record as well as the snowiest month since November 1991 after the Halloween Blizzard that pretty much shut down Wisconsin and Minnesota, I thought what better time to re-visit Seth and Casey?

There isn't much more I can add to my original review other than I'm still conflicting between wanting to bang their heads together and wrap them up in bubblewrap. When it comes down to it though I have to admit I side with Casey. I understand Seth's desire to be who he was, to get back to his life as a firefighter but I've seen too many things with my mom's health issues and my grandfather's battle with MS to really sympathize with his refusal to accept that yes his life is never going to be the same but he is still here. Perhaps had I not grown up watching my mother and grandfather have their lives changed I would be able to support Seth's resistance and I guess we all need to have that "a-ha" moment when everything clicks. In Seth & Casey, RJ Scott uses Mother Nature's wintery wrath to explore that idea and she does it brilliantly.

I guess what I'm saying is that despite not understanding Seth's denial to face facts I absolutely love, love, love this novella which to me in itself speaks more to the author's storytelling talents than anything. This is a win-win filled with frosty dangers that only Mother Nature could create, love that may or may not be enough, and the desire to survive. For those who never experience the kind of snow in this story, count your blessings because the white stuff may look fluffy and conjure up all thoughts of Christmas and magical dancing snowmen but it can be anything but magical and the author's obvious respect for that just makes this story ten times more entertaining.

Original Review January 2018:
When Seth Wild's life as a fireman is at an end due to injury, instead of facing it head on he fights it and in the process he pushes away his rock, his friend, his lover, his husband Casey McQuire. When Casey walks out hoping Seth will see what he needs to face, he finds himself alone with his nephew and 9 of his students stranded during a blizzard. Will Seth get to Casey and the kids in time and more importantly will he realize what he's risking with his refusal to accept the inevitable?

💬Reviewer Note: I have never read the previous version of this novella so I cannot comment on the re-editting and how the two versions differ.💬

Now on to Seth & Casey. Brilliant! I wish I could leave it at that but you know I'll expand because to be honest I could not put this down. I really just want to say that as a Wisconsinite(and no this is not set in Wisconsin) I absolutely love stories where Mother Nature rears her karmatic head. Yeah, I know "karmatic" isn't a real word but this is my review so I'm leaving it in😜 For those who have never experienced a true snow storm, I say "good for you because they can be hell on earth", its a prime example of Mother Nature showing her status in the hierarchy of world domination.

So when I find a book where snow is prevalent than I really pay attention to how the author uses it and whether they give it the respect the white stuff deserves. I don't know how much experience RJ Scott has with snow in the UK but she has clearly done her research and respects its destructive nature. Distance means nothing in whiteout conditions, you can be two feet away from someone or something and have no clue what direction to travel and the author uses this in this novella in multiple cases and for that alone I say "Thank you."

I've mentioned all that about the weather because its more than just a plot device, it truly is a character all on its own. As for the main characters of Seth and Casey, well once again I found myself warring between bundling them in bubblewrap and knocking their heads together. In a short story/novella, especially one that the bulk covers such a short span of time, it can be hard to convey the emotions of the characters, make them believable, and still give the reader an entertaining piece of art. RJ Scott seems to have mastered the knack of doing just that though. Would I like to know more about the boys and their life both before and after the pages of this tale? Of course, because for me when a story is this lovely I never want it to end but in truth, I can't imagine Seth & Casey any different than it is and its a no-brainer that this one will definitely be going into my re-read list.

Alpha Delta
Original Review March 2019:
When Finn Hallan and Niall Faulkner had an instant connection after a conference meeting they knew it was more than just a one night stand but it takes a hostage situation in the middle of Mother Nature's wrath that makes them see how far their feelings have grown. Will they be able to reveal their feelings or have they left it too late?

I originally purchased this novella long ago and when the author re-released a re-edited version, I purchased that too and yet as much of an RJ Scott fan as I am, somehow Alpha Delta went unread. Then when I learned she was releasing this as part of an anthology for her weather setting novellas I knew I had to find Alpha and finally read it. Boy am I glad I did and wondered every minute as I read what took me so long.

💬Now I should mention I only read the re-editted version so I can't speak to the differences in the original and re-release.💬

Finn and Niall are an absolute dream. I've seen some label them as opposites attract and I guess to some extent they are: elite cop and nerdy engineer but when you look past that I found them to be quite similar and definitely perfect for each other. And once again, RJ Scott has shown her respect for Mother Nature, this time in the form of storms in the Norwegian sea.

I know for some people the connection between Finn and Niall is too quick but I don't see it that way and as much as Alpha Delta is a romance novella, I found at the core it was about survival and what we are able to make ourselves do to get through impossible situations. Sure we see Finn and Niall realize what's important when they risk losing it but at its heart, Niall faces certain death in a way he never imagined but he pushes himself to do what he has to and for me that survival instinct is what made Alpha Delta a must read.

All the King's Men

Original Review July 2017:

Reviewer's Side Note: Having never read All the King's Men before I don't know how this re-edited and rewritten version differs from the original.

Ryan Ortiz wants a second chance with his ex so he hops on a plane bound for LA. Nathan Richardson's acting career is beginning to bring him happiness and he's moving forward from his ex even if he hasn't really moved on. An Act of God in the form of the biggest earthquake to hit the west coast has occurred but will Fate let Ryan not only save his lover but reunite them in the aftermath?

How in the world have I not read this work of art by one of my favorite author's before now? Growing up in Wisconsin where tornadoes and blizzards could occur just months apart, I never really enjoyed disaster films and certainly did not enjoy reading Act of God/Mother Nature Strikes Back scenarios but as I got older(hey, I'm only 43 so lets say "matured" it sounds younger) I found disaster films to be enjoyable. However, I never really found any books within that genre/trope that didn't classify as sci-fi that piqued my interest. Until now! It's no secret that RJ Scott is one of my favorite authors and that she is also one of only a handful that fall into my "automatic 1-click list" so when I discovered All the King's Men it was a no-brainer that it would grace my Kindle.

I know that Ryan may not be everyone's cup of tea because of the way things ended with Nathan prior to where the book begins but his actions, or lack thereof, did not bother me at all. As in life, sometimes in fiction one has to lose something or someone to realize how much it or they were needed. Which is where Ryan finds himself as he travels westward to reunite with Nathan. I loved his desire to get to Nate especially once he learns about the earthquake. His determination to reach Nate is inspiring and once he reaches him, he stops at nothing to get him to safety.

Okay, I'm going to stop there as far as the plot goes because I don't want to give anymore away. I will just say that in a story such as All the King's Men, there isn't always an overabundance of secondary characters so those that the main characters come across have a lot riding on them that can really test the author's talent for character development and storytelling. Well, RJ Scott has proven once again how amazing she is with these aspects of drama and even though its not a situation that happens every day its certainly something that could happen which only heightens the fear and got my adrenaline pumping with every page. To be completely honest, it made me even more thankful that I live in a region that only faces the destructive forces of tornadoes and blizzards(something I never thought I'd say so thank you, RJ 😉) because earthquakes are not a common occurrence here in Wisconsin. King's Men may not make my yearly re-read list but I will definitely be re-visiting Ryan and Nate more than once.

RATING:

Seth & Casey

Summary:

Seth Wild is a firefighter who has lost everything. Nearly dying in a fire, he is scared and angry and chases away the only good thing in his life—school teacher Casey McGuire.

When a sudden and violent snow storm hits their town he receives a message Casey and ten kids are trapped in an education centre center with no way out. There is no one else who can help, he’s the last fire fighter in town with his bum leg and his icy heart.

He doesn’t hesitate. He always promised he would be Casey’s hero, but will he ever again be Casey’s love?

Alpha Delta

Summary:

Officer Finn Hallan has never run from a fight. With Niall’s life and love at stake, he’s not about to start now.

N.B. Originally published with All Romance, this edition features the same story with new cover art

Finn Hallan is a member of the elite Norwegian Emergency Response Unit, code name Delta. When the team is sent to respond to a hostage situation on an Oil Platform, he has to face demons he thought he had buried a long time ago.

Scottish engineer Niall Faulkner’s skills in oil platform decommissioning takes him to the Forseti platform at the worst possible time. When he’s captured by terrorists, his only thought is that he will never get to tell his lover how he really feels.

Can Finn keep Niall alive? Or will they both die at the hands of hijackers in the frigid waters of the Norwegian sea?

All the King's Men

Summary:

Originally published in 2011. Re-edited and rewritten with added chapters and amended epilogue.

* * * * *

When Ryan Ortiz decides to go direct to LA to fight for a second chance with his lover Nathan Richardson he is caught up in the biggest earthquake to hit the city since records began.

LA is destroyed, burning, people homeless, and fires are ignited high in the LA hills above Nathan's apartment. Nathan is trapped and Ryan is his only hope.

It is a race against time and the powerful all consuming destruction of nature for Ryan to find Nathan, trapped in the ruins of his home in the hills, and to get both of them to help before the fire reaches them.

Seth & Casey
“…New York's LaGuardia and JFK International airports officially closed on Thursday afternoon due to the storm, according to the FAA. Both airports had been open earlier despite significant flight cancellations. LaGuardia resumed operations around 7 p.m. ET, while JFK said it planned to reopen sometime during the course of the night.”

Casey McGuire rinsed the last of the mugs and placed it on the drainer with the rest. For some reason, it was always mugs they ran out of in this house. Seth had this idea that the dishwasher ate them but Casey was convinced that they just needed a system to make sure they brought all the mugs back to the kitchen when they were done. Last week he’d found a mug in the bathroom, inside the cabinet, full of cold coffee.

Seth had sworn it wasn’t him, but Casey knew it had been.

He didn’t make a fuss. After all, what was one full coffee mug teetering on the edge of a glass shelf? In the grand scheme of things, it meant nothing.

The TV droned on behind him as he took a dishcloth and wiped the first of the mugs.

“…states from South Carolina to Maine are under a winter storm warning and the governors of Georgia, North Carolina, Virginia, New Jersey and New York have declared states of emergency. Forecasters say the northeast states can expect hurricane-force wind gusts and blinding snow…”

The news channels had been warning about this storm for a week, a huge dump of snow that would cripple the eastern seaboard, but that as yet hadn’t caused much concern here in Vermont. Casey glanced out of the window at the yard and wished for more snow. That way maybe Seth wouldn’t be able to leave the house, and possibly the two of them could have a rational conversation that didn’t end with Seth leaving and Casey wondering where the hell he was going wrong.

“…the situation is “ugly” and “dangerous,” and people should stay indoors…”

Last night, all Casey had said was that Seth shouldn’t forget about his appointment next morning. Seth left the house, clambering back into bed at some ungodly hour, reeking of beer or worse. In his sleep, Seth tried to pull Casey close, but Casey had deliberately scooted up and away, and left his husband in the bed.

Today, at ten, Seth had exploded, accusing Casey of meddling in things he didn’t understand, telling Casey he was fine and didn’t need a shrink.

Yet another night when one of them ended up on the couch.

“Hey.”

Casey stiffened at Seth’s soft, gravelly voice. His chest was tight, he didn’t want to argue. He wanted Seth to admit there was a problem, because he couldn’t handle it anymore. Six months of this had taken its toll. Maybe if Seth had seen the specialists when he should’ve, maybe if he’d seen a counselor, then Casey would see he was trying.

Seth was in denial, and it was destroying their marriage.

He didn’t turn to face Seth; he’d made a decision in the early morning, packed a bag with what he could get without waking Seth, and decided they needed space. If Seth had space he might face up to himself instead of taking it out on Casey.

Seth slid his hands around Casey’s waist, resting his chin on Casey’s shoulder and sighed. He’d brushed his teeth so the only scent was peppermint, which at least was a step up from yesterday when he’d attempted a clumsy kiss with beer still on his breath.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured near Casey’s ear.

Casey could turn now, accept the apology, even offer one of his own for pushing Seth, and everything would be normal for a while. Seth could go back to pretending he was okay, and Casey could go back to walking on eggshells and avoiding conflict.

But what kind of a marriage was that?

What kind of a man did that make Casey?

“I know you are,” he said. Then he tensed because that wasn’t the answer Seth wanted, and Casey knew what would happen next. Seth would go straight onto defensive mode, give some bullshit about how he was a firefighter and didn’t need a counselor.

Meanwhile, Seth not accepting any of what he needed was tearing their marriage apart. Casey had been careful with him for a long time, after all, Seth had nearly died. But when months had passed and he was still refusing to listen to reason, that was when Casey realized he’d been wrong in accepting Seth’s view on what kind of healing he needed.

“I think we need some time apart,” Casey said, and placed the dried mug onto the counter. He eased away from Seth’s hold and moved to the other side of the kitchen table. Somehow, having it between them gave Casey the strength to do what he’d decided was the right thing. Seth had this way of holding him, with a near desperation that never failed to have Casey crumbling.

Seth didn’t answer at first. Casey stopped himself from repeating the words and hoped that Seth was just thinking. The only noise in the kitchen was the news, focusing on Greyhound buses and the routes being cancelled.

“Why?”

Alpha Delta
“I don’t really do this.” Niall waved between them.

“Have sex?”

“Have one-night stands.”

Finn stepped in his space again, and this time, with the desk at his back Niall had nowhere to move. Then Finn did something that had Niall near melting into a puddle. The damned cop cradled his face gently.

“Who said anything about one night?” He tilted Niall’s face and leaned down at the same time. With his hands cradling Niall, he kissed him. The kiss was firm but not pushy. There was none of the shit that happened in clubs whenever Ewan managed to drag Niall to one. Seemed like all that happened there was tongues and teeth and a whole lot of demands. This was…

Different.

Finn touched his lips with tongue, pressing inside. With a whimper that Niall hoped to hell was just in his own head, he opened his mouth and tentatively matched the movements. He didn’t know what to do with his hands. Should he leave them at his sides, or could he touch…? He rested them on Finn’s biceps but couldn’t stop with that touch, instead locking his hands at the base of Finn’s spine and pulling him closer. They kissed that way for the longest time, Niall so hard it was painful.

Finn moved one of his hands from Niall’s face and trailed his fingers down Niall’s back, finally coming to a rest on his ass, pressing and lifting so that Finn was near on tiptoe. If they didn’t do something soon, release the pressure, if he couldn’t undo his pants, then he might do serious damage to his cock.

As if he’d somehow telegraphed the message, Finn’s hand moved and this time it was to slip under the top button of Niall’s pants. He lowered the zipper, finally pushing his fingers into Niall’s jersey boxers and closing around Niall’s hard cock. Niall pulled back sharply from the kiss and cursed loudly. All Finn did was chuckle, the bastard, then guide Finn back for more kissing while twisting his fingers and tugging on Niall. Niall could stand like this until he came, held up just with the desk at his thighs and Finn holding him upright, but he wanted his hands on Finn and he wanted it now.

Copying Finn’s movements he loosened the tight buttons on Finn’s jeans and finally managed to get his hands inside Niall’s pants. Just the feel of his hands on Niall was enough to have him deepening the kiss, more frantic in his need to taste Finn. Then Finn released his hold of Niall’s cock but before Niall could complain Finn yanked at Niall’s hand on him, releasing the hold, then lifted him, hands under his ass, and carried him the short distance to the bed.

All the King's Men

Prologue

Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall,
Humpty Dumpty had a great fall.
All the king’s horses and all the king’s men
Couldn’t put Humpty together again!

* * * * *

California is one of America’s most earthquake-prone states.

The boundary between the massive Pacific and North American tectonic plates, the notorious San Andreas Fault, runs roughly southeast to northwest through much of California. In addition, a jumble of lesser transverse faults clutters the map of the state.

Sides of the San Andreas Fault move in the opposite direction, but at different speeds, causing geologic tension to build. That tension is released in the form of an earthquake. The possibility is always present for associated earthquakes among the nearby transform faults.

The U.S. Geological Survey says the state faces a forty-six percent chance of being hit by a Richter Scale magnitude 7.5 or higher earthquake in the next thirty years.

Possibly even today.

Chapter 1

Thursday 6:52 a.m.
I’m coming to you… Early morning flight to LAX… I don’t want to play phone tag anymore… I just want to see you face to face and talk… I miss you, Nate… I’m sorry… I love you.

Nathan Richardson leaned against the park gates and pocketed his cell after listening to his lover’s voicemail for what must be at least the twentieth time. The message was emotional and Ryan’s voice was choked as he spoke. Still, in the few words Nathan heard he got the message. He and Ryan needed to do one hell of a lot of talking.

They’d been together two years, Ryan a photographer and Nathan his model. It was the worst cliché ever and surely destined to fail. But not them. They were in love and going strong. Nathan wanted forever, commitment, a place they owned together, hell, even a ring. Ryan, older than Nathan by five years, had too many breakups under his belt to think that a happy ever after was even possible.

When Nathan was offered a part in a small independent movie, it had been the beginning of the end. Nathan had used modeling to finance acting classes and he jumped at the chance to join the cast of an independent gay film with a contract for two months’ work and an audition for a soap as a new love interest in some kind of triangle.

Nathan expected Ryan to protest—for his lover to tell Nathan he couldn’t live without him and not to go. Instead Ryan grew quieter by the day and merely encouraged Nathan to take the role. Nathan could see what was happening—Ryan was subtly saying he didn’t want a forever kind of thing anyway. Ryan was ending their love affair while he had the chance to be in control of how it ended. They didn’t fight. They drifted apart and Nathan let it happen.

That had been two months ago.

Two days ago Ryan had texted him. I miss you. So much.

Nathan didn’t know what to type in return. Ryan wasn’t exactly offering endless love and a ring. But when Nathan read those few words he knew getting over Ryan was unachievable. He loved the man, and always would. His friend Jason wanted him to move on. He could no more move on from Ryan than he could turn straight.

Ryan was the other half of him.

I love you, Nathan sent in reply.

I want forever, Ryan texted back.

I can go for that, Nathan replied quickly.

I can get a flight. Unspoken was asking if Ryan could visit Nathan.

Please.

Despite staring at the screen for an hour, there were no more messages.

Then the voicemail came when Nathan was on his run. Heartfelt and perfect. The two of them could make this real. Not long and his lover would be here, then they could clear the air and maybe he and Ryan could find a way to move on.

Ryan Ortiz said he was ready for forever and Nathan wanted that so badly.

He had run here, the opposite side of the US, to give Ryan time to think about what he felt and what he wanted. It had killed him not to be calling Ryan every day, but Nathan knew Ryan and knew his best bet was to not pressure his lover. His gaze passed over where he now lived, a place so very different from his and Ryan’s former home in the chaos and noise of New York.

A small complex of four apartments, quiet and remote, the peace and solitude suited his frame of mind perfectly. He lived in this two-bedroom apartment in the hills beyond LA, rented from an absentee landlord, and had made it his own with photos of family and even one of him and Ryan in happier times. As much as he wished he could, he hadn’t been able to cut Ryan out of his thoughts, or his life.

He stood in the roughhewn park carved out across the road from his home and looked away from his sanctuary to the nature that surrounded him. The park itself was a jumble of trees and rocks, grass and pathways, some steeply climbing higher into the hills, some gently curving and ideal for his attempted runs. The nearest main road was a quarter-mile away, and most people drove past the entrance to the small complex without realizing the road led to people’s homes.

Jason and his girlfriend had put an offer on one of the two empty apartments. Having his best friend in LA living next door was a good thing. He needed that connection if he couldn’t have Ryan in his life on a permanent basis. Although…maybe…somehow he and Ryan could make it work?

Nathan smiled as a cloud of birds rose gracefully from the oak at the edge of the park, heading skyward at an incredible speed. He loved that he was so close to the peace of nature, and the sight of the birds was both eerie and fascinating. He couldn’t stop looking at it, wishing he had his camera with him, cursing at another amazing photo opportunity lost.

Suddenly, he couldn’t wait to share what he’d seen with Ryan.

* * * * *

Thursday 6:59 am
Ryan Ortiz sat forward in the cab as they rounded a corner. He was desperate to get his Nathan into his arms where Ryan could hold him and tell him that he loved him. The cab was moving too slowly and all the driver wanted to do was talk to him.

“What brings you to LA?”

“My boyfriend lives here.” Nathan.

“So you’re not a resident?”

“No, I’m here from New York, just for a few days.” Hopefully longer if Nathan will take me back.

The questions continued to come. What did he think of the spate of forest fires in the LA hills? Did he think that Lindsay Lohan was for real? Did he have pets? Was he married? Did he want to get married? Was he fighting for equal rights? For the most part, Ryan managed to keep up until he realized that the driver wasn’t actually listening to his answers, and so he was able to subside to a new level of tired grunts in answer to each new question. Still dazed from his early morning flight from New York, his mind limped through thought and memory, attempting to make order out of chaos. The views from the taxi, the vista of the city laid out through the misty smog, were gorgeous, and he itched for his camera. It was a very strange feeling not to have it with him, but the rush to get here, to see Nathan, had precluded organizing his extensive camera equipment. It was the first time in his memory he’d gone anywhere without at least one camera.

He missed taking photos of Nate. His gorgeous lover had started as his model for Style and hell, Ryan loved every minute of seeing Nate through the viewfinder. They’d slipped into a relationship, a fiery, intense love affair. Then his beautiful lover had revealed he wanted to try acting and even had a role lined up. Although when that had happened Ryan didn’t know, as Nathan hadn’t told him a thing.

“It’s such a cliché,” Ryan told him. “Model turned actor.”

He was only teasing but Nathan took him so seriously. “It’s just a dream of mine, and I’m lucky they let me try for it.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you had done this?”

“I thought they’d laugh me out of the door, I never imagined they’d say yes.”

Ryan had pulled Nathan into a hug. “I’m proud of you, babe,” he said firmly. Of course, inside he’d faced the finality that he was losing Nathan. No point in a future when they were separated on opposite sides of the US, and he certainly wasn’t going to hold Nathan back. It had been easier for Ryan to assume they were ending with Nathan’s move to LA.

Ultimately Nathan left his position with Style and moved permanently to LA, embracing his burgeoning acting career. The arguments increased at the same rate as the distance between them. Ryan had always been the one who picked the fights. Fucking idiot. Ryan fought insecurity and jealousy and the only way he could do that was to pretend Nathan leaving for a new career meant nothing to him.

Nathan got the role in the TV series, up and away from his independent film part, starting with a six-month contract. His picture was emblazoned on page twenty-nine of a teen magazine that Ryan’s assistant left on his desk. The photo was one of Ryan’s, and it was one of his favorites. Nathan, beautiful, shirtless, his lean body stretched with catlike grace, leaning back on his elbows. His jeans were pushed down and his hipbones teased at what was hidden. He was pictured gazing away from the camera thoughtfully, his soft dark hair in disarray around his face. The lighting had been faultless, each coppery highlight in Nathan’s hair picked out in detail. The photo was simply perfect.

They had gone home after that shoot and made love and it was the moment Ryan knew he was head over heels for Nathan. They’d exchanged I love you’s and Nathan began to make plans for a future together, a house outside the city maybe, adoption, hell, the whole family thing. Ryan wasn’t sure he was capable of all that, but he’d nodded and listened. Then he saw the damn photo again and he knew at that moment he should never have let his fears stop him from believing in what they had.

Ryan didn’t hesitate when he saw that photo. He loved Nathan and they had been apart too long. Sure there was a relationship to save, he texted Nathan and Nathan had answered. Ryan impulsively booked a flight immediately—the first flight he could get to LA. He called Nathan from the airport and left a voicemail when Nathan didn’t answer. Now he sat in the taxi as the driver steered it up into the hills. He needed to push aside his insecurities, drop to his knees, and beg forgiveness of the one person who made him whole. He hoped he wasn’t too late.

* * * * *

7:12 a.m.
After his pathetic, half-hearted stumble-run, Nathan decided he needed to get indoors and get a shower. He wasn’t sure what time Ryan would get here but Nathan wanted to be at least halfway decent when he did.

He couldn’t help the excitement that flooded him. He really wanted to see if maybe his ex-lover would want to find some kind of resolution. Maybe they could agree to split their time between the two cities?

He was just inside the main door when the floor beneath his feet moved, subtly the first time, slowly, a groaning, a creaking, and a soft shaking. The ground shift left him holding the doorframe. It only lasted a few seconds and was over before he could force a thought about it through the rest of the clutter in his mind. The checklist in his head clicked in automatically before the shaking had stopped. He smiled briefly. That earth movement would be dominating the news today. Hey, maybe today was a good day for him to walk proudly out of the closet! Surely revealing his sexual preferences would never be more newsworthy than an earthquake in Tinseltown.

He thumbed to the number of his brother out of state and hit Send. The phone at the other end rang once, twice, a third time, and voicemail kicked in. He decided not to leave a message. No one really needed to know that a minor shock had hit his apartment in the hills above LA. The trembler hadn’t been strong enough to be worthy of hitting the news anywhere outside of California. Nathan had just been trying to be a good citizen, letting a family member know like the government said he should. He made a mental note to charge the damn cell when he finished his shower.

Seconds later, just as Nathan pocketed his cell, the earth around him ripped apart with such savagery that it was impossible to stand upright. Nathan scrabbled to hold the side of the doorframe, trying to find his feet. His vision blurred as dust and concrete fell about his head, knocking him to the ground. Before the shaking stopped, before the ceiling joists cascaded down and trapped his legs, he slammed into unconsciousness.

Chapter 2
They were about ten minutes away from Nathan’s apartment when the pre-shock hit. The driver cursed as the car skittered sideways, and Ryan grabbed on to the door and his belt in confusion.

“What the hell?”

“S’okay, just a small one. We get them all the time out here.”

Ryan knew what he meant. Earthquake. He’d never really experienced an earthquake before and it had felt weird, like the whole of the earth beneath the car had slid sideways, stones and loose gravel from the hills above them dropping onto the car in a crashing, rattling rain.

Ryan peered out the window at the sweeping vista of LA sleeping below him, wondering how many people woke up to the sound that was like distant thunder and to the shaking of the earth. The car had skidded to the edge of the road, and he shot a quick glance down the slope, thanking God that it hadn’t been a major quake. Smiling ruefully, he sat back in the seat as the driver pulled away and angled back onto his side of the road.

A breath-stealing jolt yanked him from his musings.

The car was moving; no, the hill was moving…shuddering and falling…pushing the hapless car ahead of it. The rocks, vegetation…the sky tumbled. The car neared the edge, the driver shouting hysterically as it tilted sideways, large chunks of hillside falling to dent the car, beat at the car, push the car to the edge, to the drop, to the shaking and dancing of the moving earth.

Ryan clung with both hands to the grab handle over the cab’s door and jerked at every noise, every motion. This wasn’t good, not good at all. He stared out, snatching a quick look down at LA, and what he saw was burned into his mind. Explosions. He thought he saw buildings shattering and imploding, but that had to be his imagination. What the fuck is happening?

The car ceased its crazy ride and, for one second, remained poised on the edge, overhanging the drop. Then a final shove of moving dirt sent it careening, tumbling down the rise.

The car lodged against a natural outcrop and came to a sudden and bone-crunching stop, the thunder and passion of the earthquake still warring around it, the hill subsiding, plummeting, and falling in a haphazard storm of rocks and debris. The seatbelt saved Ryan’s life. It stopped him from being thrown from the car and crushed under it as it rolled and slid, but it also ultimately trapped him inside the vehicle as the chassis twisted and buckled against the onslaught of the hillside. All too soon the noises around him started to slow, and he was left in the dark surrounded by dust and earth, his eyes burning with fumes. He needed to get out of the taxi now.

With a powerful resolution born of a desire to live, he heaved himself out of the belt and pushed at the door with his booted feet, tumbling out as it burst open. He crab-walked away from the compacted car, his eyes taking in what was essentially half a car. The front had been flattened and the driver crushed.

He was trapped in a nightmare. The remains of the cab perched precariously on a bed of dirt and rocks of all sizes. Flames licked up leaking fuel, eating at the crushed metal. Ryan knew he could do nothing for the driver. He was gone…crushed…dead…fuck.

Stumbling to his feet, he clutched at his forehead, pulling his hand away and staring in a shocked stupor at the blood. A head injury. Crap.

The car groaned as the metal heated. Half out of his mind with horror and dread, believing the car would explode, he twisted and scrambled his way up over the remains of the road, feeling the heat on his back as the fire continued to eat away at the mutilated car. The cab wasn’t the only car destroyed. One that had been ahead of them lay crushed so badly no one could have escaped. Another vehicle that they’d passed on the freeway had plowed into an embankment and burst into flames. All of the vehicles had been tossed around like toys in the hands of Nature.

Finally he crashed to his knees, his back to the view below. There was nothing he could do for anyone in any vehicle here, and his gaze focused on what was left of the road. Reluctantly, spurred by horrified fascination and the need to face what had happened, Ryan pushed himself to his feet and turned slowly. Shielding his eyes with his hand and coughing, he faced the nightmare vista of LA laid out before him. Fire. He could see fire, drifts of dark gray smoke, and clouds of dust. Debris. The ground still stirred uneasily beneath his feet. This was a living disaster movie, surreal, unbelievable. LA was unrecognizable. Everything had gone eerily silent where he stood above the rage of the distant fires and destruction, the motion of the earth around him having finally faded.

The taxi burned brightly, and he shuddered at the thought of the dead driver. Ryan didn’t want to think about a world where death could be a blessing. He could have been trapped in that car, trapped in the flames. Fire: his worst fear, his nightmare.

Living, breathing fire tracked steadily on its way up the hillside following a dirty trail of oil and fuel that speeded its path. He really needed to move and now, but for a second, he stopped, dazed, still watching LA shattered by the ground on which it had risen. Jesus, this looks worse than the Northridge quake of ’94. He recalled a spread in National Geographic that said the quake had only lasted thirty seconds, but he remembered it killed about sixty people and injured several thousand. Images of collapsed freeways and fires flashed across his thoughts, quick jumbled images of death and destruction. This looked bad, and this wasn’t just a small part of the city. The entire LA downtown looked to be destroyed.

Below him lay LA, and around him, but not too near, he heard sirens and smelled smoke. Nathan was somewhere above him, perhaps hit as hard as he’d been. Maybe he was trapped, possibly dead—Ryan froze and refused to think of the worst scenario any more.

Should he try to contact someone? Who? Emergency services? If the situation hadn’t been so horrendous, Ryan might have laughed at the stupidity of his thought. There was no one else that could be right here and now; Nathan had him and him alone to depend upon.

He checked his pocket. Fuck, his cell was in the car, along with a hastily packed flight bag.

Tensing his muscles one by one, he tested for injuries. Each limb seemed bruised but worked. He was relatively uninjured, and nothing appeared broken. His breathing had become easy and regular. He thanked the heavens for the fact that he went running every day and was fit. Picking his way carefully, he started up the hill. Climbing over piles of stone and tossed trees and foliage, he managed to trace parts of the broken road, breaking into a run when he could. He’d been running for ten minutes when he came to an abrupt stop.

“Holy shit.”

Mother Nature had destroyed all that Ryan knew as right and normal. The road twisted in on itself, decimated and ripped apart. It was difficult to see where he needed to scramble but as long as he moved uphill, he was going in the right direction. He imagined he was just over two miles from Nathan’s apartment, in normal circumstances about twenty minutes at a steady uphill run. Over the unsettled wasteland he traversed, he knew the trip would last much longer.

Nathan could be hurt up there. Over the next rise could be total devastation. Ryan quickened his jog, his heart pounding as he jumped and climbed the fallen hillside. He didn’t pass any other cars that had signs of life in them, just burned, twisted wreckage and bodies he couldn’t stand to look at.

As he topped the last hill, to the place where Nathan’s complex had sat, he stopped, horrified. The last time he’d been here, when Nathan first came to LA, the whole area was beautiful—landscaped and artistic design nestled into the hills. But now…

He gaped at a scene that looked like something out of a war movie. Everything was flat. Half the mountain had crushed the private entrance. The gates and what had been the parking area were torn in two.

“Fuck.”

Author Bio:

Writing love stories with a happy ever after – cowboys, heroes, family, hockey, single dads, bodyguards

USA Today bestselling author RJ Scott has written over one hundred romance books. Emotional stories of complicated characters, cowboys, single dads, hockey players, millionaires, princes, bodyguards, Navy SEALs, soldiers, doctors, paramedics, firefighters, cops, and the men who get mixed up in their lives, always with a happy ever after.

She lives just outside London and spends every waking minute she isn’t with family either reading or writing. The last time she had a week’s break from writing, she didn’t like it one little bit, and she has yet to meet a box of chocolates she couldn’t defeat.