Showing posts with label fair/festival 2023. Show all posts
Showing posts with label fair/festival 2023. Show all posts
Sunday, September 3, 2023
🎡Sunday's Safe Word Shelf🎡: Little Boy Mine by Wendy Rathbone
Little Big Heart #2
“My name is Mylo but my friends just call me My.”
“My, huh? Cute. How about if I just call you Mine.”
Mylo has had experiences in life that have altered his sense of security. He finds himself reverting to a child-like space when alone, in crowds, just about all the time. He can’t help it. Sometimes friends make fun of him, but he doesn’t feel broken, and doesn’t want to be fixed.
One day, Mylo realizes there is a name for what he desires. Little space. Littles have partners called daddies who take care of them. This new knowledge gives him a feeling of identity and wholeness he’s never had before. Now, all he needs to do is to find one of those daddies and convince him to let him come home with him.
Landau has had his heart shattered more than once. He’s a daddy with a need to caregive a boy. Most of his relationships have been with men who play on weekends, or when it’s convenient. Too many want bedroom antics but not much more beyond that. Landau has a desire for more. A boy who will be his all the time. A boy who wants to let go and let Landau do all the daddy work in and out of the bedroom.
Landau wants to be needed. That’s all there is to it. He’s given up on finding a compatible partner until one day he meets Mylo—and his whole world changes.
This book is part of the Little Big Heart series of standalone novels. Includes: Daddy/little MM romance. Hurt/comfort. Onesies. Stuffies. Sippy cups. Sweet bath times. Cloth diapers. A needy, 24-hour boy. A daddy with the biggest heart of all. HEA.
1
Mylo
Every night the same memory returned.
I’m very small. I’m lying in bed—old enough to be without a crib—and I can still smell the lingering pipe smoke of my father in the room. He’s put me down in his big bed tonight because he and my mom have guests over for the evening and one brought their own kid who is now fast asleep in my room.
I stretch out my arms and legs as far as I can and I still can’t reach the edges of my parents’ bed. I feel tiny as a mouse. Very vulnerable. The world is a giant cavern I can’t understand. There’s too much of it. I need a small space, like here and now, with fresh covers over me, placed here by my father’s steady hand. I need to be safe.
I lie very still. My eyes scan the room’s shadows. The door is open and the hall is dim, but I can still see the lines and angles of the walls and doorframes (bathroom and entryway) and windows. It is silent here, my parents’ murmuring too low to make even a soft buzz.
Then, as if from nowhere, the lonely engine of a small plane rumbles the air. I know it’s a plane. I have learned about planes from picture books and know what they do, even if I’ve never been on one. I can see it like a drawing, a little car with wings that murmurs high through the sky.
At night, I’ve seen the lights on distant planes when mom or dad lets me out in the backyard to look at the stars. I picture this plane flashing as it moves in a slow line through the night sky. The rumble of the engine becomes a vibration inside my mind, lulling me. How can something so small in all the vast distances of dark and space still make it through the journey to land safely so far away?
The sound fills me up. My heart turns over in my chest, all warm and tingly. It reminds me of something I can’t yet articulate but know deep inside is a familiar truth for me. I am here. I exist. I am a little speck in the great beyond just starting my journey. Safe. Secure. Warm and unafraid. The world is a scary place but here, I am okay.
I breathe in that faint sweet pipe scent. I close my eyes. My smile is wide. This moment is everything.
This was where it all started for me. The need to recapture that moment. To drop into little space and linger where I knew I was loved and safe. Because after my parents died, nothing felt safe to me ever again.
As I sat at the picnic table on the edge of the lunch court, scrolling through my phone, someone walked up behind me and dropped a clear, plastic bag on the space in front of me. Inside was a collection of bracelets in every color, all plastic, some jelly with glitter, some hard bangles with rhinestones.
“Happy Birthday, My!” Trix leaped over the bench seat and straddled it. “Hope you like them.”
“Like them? I love them.” I grabbed up the bag and held it close to my chest. I adored jewelry.
Trix had known me since we were both ten years old. She lived next door to my gran, where I’d stayed since the accident. She was the one person in my life who completely understood me. Only Trix would give me such a gift, knowing how much I adored bracelets, necklaces and rings—especially the kinds made for kids—namely little girls.
I’d always envied her jewelry box contents. One day when we were still little, as we played in her room, she took out all her jewelry and laid it out in front of us. One by one, she put each piece on me. I was amazed and in love. It felt good to wear such sparkly things. Like taking deep breaths after drowning. Like I was whole again.
“You look so pretty.” She’d clapped her hands.
I nearly melted under her praise.
I didn’t have any jewelry of my own. Determined, I saved the small allowance Gran gave me every week. My first purchase was a flashy crystal ring which fit my middle finger. My second was a little pack of stretchy bracelets—pink, yellow and purple—which I twisted onto my wrist in an artful way. After that, there was no stopping my imagination, and my budding pubescent tastes.
I had to match my jewelry, so when Gran took me shopping for school clothes, I picked the most colorful, outlandish styles.
Sure, I was teased at first, but with Trix standing by me—much taller and much stronger than I as preteens—no one really messed with us beyond verbal comments.
Junior high was the worst because I never really outgrew my babyish voice or the fact that, when threatened, I retreated into the shadows to suck my thumb. By then, I already suspected I was gay as well. Trix did, too, but that didn’t faze her at all. We got through the harder years together. Trix was one of those rare, steadfast friends who was as loyal as gold. If not for her, I would not have made the effort to socialize much, if at all.
Trix was popular in high school. Because of that, her friends thought it was totally cool that she had a gay best friend who liked hearts, flowers and teddy bears. I ended up being part of her gang as just “one of the girls.” I wasn’t a girl, but I liked being with the girls. It was another way for me to feel completely safe. I could ogle pictures and videos of boys with them in a safe way and everyone thought it was great.
Now Trix said to me, “Well, graduation is in two days. And in August, I leave for college. So, I’ve been having thinky thoughts.”
I hung my head. I was enrolled in a community college, but Trix was leaving. She was super smart and had gotten into an ivy league school with a full scholarship.
“I don’t want you to go,” I whispered, longing to suck my thumb, clutching my hands tightly in my lap. We’d been inseparable for eight years. What would I do without her?
“I know.” Trix reached out and pressed a lock of my dark, straight hair behind my ear. “But we’re adults now, My. Of course, we’ll stay friends with texts and phone calls, but our paths are turning out to be different. But we have the summer and I have ideas.”
She was always right. She had a boyfriend now, too, who would be accompanying her to college. Things were changing fast.
“Ideas? Like what?”
“What we need to do for your birthday, since you’re officially an adult now, is take you out and get you laid.”
“What? Laid? No way.” I hunched into myself.
I stared at the bag of bracelets gleaming in the sun. The way I looked and the accessories I loved to wear—who would want me? I’d cheered the girls on throughout their dating lives in high school, but for myself—I stayed away from boys. I wasn’t interested in anyone my age anyway. In my fantasies, my lovers were always older, not schoolboys but men. Real men.
“You gotta get yourself out in the world,” Trix said. “I demand for you to be happy.” She bopped me on my head, then put her arms around me and hugged me.
“I don’t think I’m ready.”
“You’re cute, you’re sweet, you’re smart. And you’re eighteen. You’re ready.”
“Where would we go? A gay bar? I’m not twenty-one.”
“Private parties, of course,” she replied as if it was that easy. “And Pride events.”
I knew what she meant. Private parties meant jocks and frat boys. Still not my cuppa. Anyway, most of her friends were straight. And Pride events? Well, I’d been to the parade and fair when I was younger. It was fun but had left me a bit overwhelmed and intimidated.
“Private parties aren’t gonna find me a date,” I told her. “I’ve already met all your friends. Even the two gay ones, Sky and Toby. They’re not into femboys.”
Trix got up, went around the table and sat so she could face me. “Mylo, we need to have a discussion.”
She hardly ever called me by my full name. This meant business.
“About what?”
“About your sex life.”
I giggled. “I have none. End of discussion.”
“That’s exactly what I mean. Answer me this: do you want to date?”
“Maybe. If the right person came along.”
“What might that look like?”
“You know my type. We’ve boy-watched together before. I like them a little more mature. Not my age.”
“I know that. And while you were underage, that was a hard no.”
I nodded.
“But not now.”
I scowled.
“When you borrow my yaoi manga,” she went on, “you also go for the sorta kinkier ones. Size difference. Age difference. Boys in lace with older men. Boys in dresses. In makeup. Losing their virginity in their childhood bedrooms with kinky businessmen while their stuffies watch. I get it. Super hot, no argument from me. Sweet partnered with rough. Controlling. Spanking. Master/slave. I know they’re all comics and all fantasy, but we haven’t really talked about it. Not all that seriously.”
“About what?” I really didn’t see where this was going. I read for escape, not reality.
“Kink.”
“What?”
“I think you might lean on the side of being a little kinky.”
I wanted to laugh again but squirmed on the hard seat instead. “Isn’t acting like a baby enough? You think there’s more?”
“That’s my point. You like stuff like that, I mean, not just jewelry and makeup, but baby stuff. You could be into age play or a middle or a little. You always say you want a mature guy and that everyone we know our own age is brain-dead. Are you sure it’s not a daddy you want?”
“Wow. That’s blunt and to the point.” But—a daddy? I flushed all over at the thought like my body knew what it wanted before my brain.
She shrugged, brushing her long dark curls over her shoulder. “I don’t know how to be any other way.”
“That’s for sure.” I looked down. “Sounds like you know way more about it all than I do.”
“I’m into it, but in books and boyslove and stuff. But for you, maybe it’s bigger than just the books you read. You and I have shared a lot over the years. Don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about.”
“Yeah. But not as it pertains to real life.”
“But don’t you think you might want to find out?” Trix frowned at me, bringing her face closer to mine.
I looked away. “That sounds way too scary.”
“You’ll never know unless you put yourself out there. Experiment.”
“Trix, stop. You’re giving me heart palpitations now.”
She put her palm on my forearm. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to freak you out. I just got to thinking. With me leaving in August.” She gulped. “I’m going to miss my My.” Her eyes got a little teary. “I want you to be happy. I feel like I don’t want to leave you behind if I know you’re not, you know, opening up a little more, getting out there, meeting people.”
My own eyes stung. Trix squeezed my arm.
“Let’s make this our best summer. Let’s run a little bit wild. We have two whole months.”
“You want to find me a lover so you won’t have to worry about me.”
She pouted. “I’ll worry about you anyway. All the time. Friends for life, right?”
I nodded, still looking at my lap.
Trix leaned in and kissed my cheek. “Would finding a lover be such a bad thing?”
“What if I’m ace?”
She shrugged. “Then you’ll find that out and you’ll know. But you have to get your pretty little firm ass out there first. Right? You’ve never even had a date, My.” She sat back, her hand going to my chin and forcing me to face her. “If you think it’s a terrible idea, I won’t bug you again about it. But what’s wrong with letting loose? It’s our last summer. Let’s play.”
Play. I loved that term. My heart sped up at the thought. Trix would be there always offering advice and shoring me up. She was protective and feisty. Knowing she was at my side made the prospect seem almost fun.
“What about your boyfriend? Won’t he want to spend all these days with you?”
“Cody’s got a part-time job. He’s got car payments his parents won’t pay for. Which is funny because they’re paying for his college and everything else. Anyway, he’ll tag along sometimes, too. He’s totally cool like that.”
“Maybe.”
“He likes you, My. Really.”
I wasn’t so sure. She’d only been dating him for six months, but at our age, that was like six years. Cody tolerated me. He was one of those guys who said and did all the right things to be accepted by his peers, but he had his nose up in the air a lot, too. Not that he was all bad. I tried to imagine him at the Gay Pride fair, being all cool, letting guys hit on him and acting like it was no big deal. It made me laugh.
“What?” Trix asked. “Is that laugh a yes?”
“That laugh,” I replied, “is a maybe.”
Hi, I'm Wendy and I'm a voracious reader as well as an author.
Currently, I write all male/male romances and am lately focused on omegaverse. For many years mm has been my first love.
The stories of my characters rattle around in my brain until I have to write them down or lose sleep!
All my books are available in Kindle Unlimited. Happy reading!
Little Boy Mine #2
Series
Saturday, September 2, 2023
🎡Saturday's Series Spotlight🎡: Games We Play by DJ Jamison Part 1
Two Truths and a...wait, what?!
What happens when drunken idiots, aka your friends, use a silly drinking game to sideswipe you and your BFF with the truth bomb that you’re actually in love with each other?
Truman: You impulsively kiss the best friend you’ve been in love with for ages…then wake up with a hangover—and regrets.
Lyle: You freak out because you’re not gay or bi, before realizing the kiss wasn’t *actually* bad. Then you begin to wonder…should we do it again?
Two Truths and a Lyle is a cute, low-angst M/M romance with two oblivious best friends who are perfect for one another, a town full of quirky residents who get in everyone’s business, and a sweet demisexual awakening.
Summary:
Never Have I Ev... Wait, what was the question again?!
What happens when an ill-advised party game makes it obvious I've still got my V-card?
Embarrassment. A lot of embarrassment.
Especially when the sexy, older guy at the party who witnessed the whole thing turns out to be someone I have to see every week. Not to mention my best friend's cousin.
He's not only straight, but way out of my league.
It's going to be so awkward for both us.
Or awesome...if his protective nature and flirty attempts to teach me how to date lead to the kind of tutoring that lives in my fantasies. But how likely is that to happen? I'm not known as the sweet, naive one among for my friends for nothing.
I'm probably imagining those looks he throws my way. Probably projecting my own want onto his expression.
But...what if I'm not?
Never Have I Evan features an inexperienced, shy tech geek, an assistant football coach who oozes confidence, a town full of quirky, nosy residents, and sexual awakening and discovery themes!
Summary:
Truth or...whoa, that's not how this dare works!
What happens when my big mouth writes a check it can't cash while taunting my ex's brother in a game of Truth or Dare? I end up with his tongue in my mouth. In my very straight, totally uninterested mouth.
While I don't feel anything.
Nothing at all.
In fact, I barely noticed.
So, why can't I stop thinking about it?
Truth or Darren features a troublemaker with good intentions, a guy who's none too impressed with his sister's ex, and an animosity that flares hotter than either of them could ever imagine--but which the townspeople of Granville, Nebraska, are all too happy to speculate about.
Two Truths and a Lyle #.5
“Okay, the game is Two Truths and a Lie,” Kevin announced. “Who’s first?”
Calista and Darren put their heads together, conferring quietly. Then Darren straightened, gesturing to Calista. “Ladies first.”
“I’ve never been accused of being a lady before,” Calista said to a round of laughter. She was gorgeous, with curly hair that was a little wild and curves that attracted her a steady number of boyfriends. But she was also one of the crudest people I’d met, always down for a dirty joke or reckless adventure. “But sure, I’ll go first. Okay…two truths and a lie. Hmm. Oh, I’ve got it! Here goes: I’m a Scorpio. I once wrecked my dad’s car. And my two best friends are in love with each other.”
“You’re not a Scorpio,” Tru said.
“Wait, aren’t all the truths supposed to be about yourself?” I asked.
At the same time, Evan said, “I thought I was your best friend. I’m not in love with anyone!”
And that’s when it hit me.
She was talking about me and Tru.
“Drink up, Calista!” Kevin called. “They busted you on the lie. You’re not a Scorpio.”
I noticed no one was suggesting she told more than one lie. Or calling her on the fact she’d told a supposed “truth” that wasn’t her own.
“I’ll go next,” Darren announced gleefully.
My gut clenched. Somehow, I knew what was coming. I glanced around the group playing the game, all ranging in age from about eighteen to twenty-two, all long-time acquaintances or friends. Was this some type of organized effort? Evan hadn’t seemed to know it was going down. So maybe it was just Calista and Darren. But that was still too much.
“Maybe we should head out,” I said to Tru.
“Why? We haven’t even played yet.”
Before I could answer, Darren was announcing his truths and a lie. “I’m a Scorpio. I’m a virgin. And my roommate and his best friend totally need to bone because they are in luuuurrrve.”
There were shouts of laughter, and Calista smirked. “I know you’re not a virgin.”
Hold up now. Calista and Darren? Surely not. At the ooohs and ahhs they started to get, Calista flipped off the room. “Dude, he’s a slut. I don’t need to screw him to know.”
I dragged a hand down my face.
“Wait, hold on,” Tru said. “Ly is your roommate.”
Darren smirked. “Yep.”
“And…his best friend is…?”
Darren raised his brows. “Don’t you already know the answer to that?”
Tru frowned, glancing between me and Darren. “I thought I did. Now, I’m just confused.”
“Join the club,” I muttered, though I suspected we were confused about different things. My stomach was squirming with discomfort as half the eyes in the room fixed on Tru and me. Fucking Darren. I knew he was behind this. I didn’t know why, but I’d find out.
Part of me wanted to jump up and tell him to knock it off. The other half wanted to sink into the sofa and disappear rather than draw more attention to myself.
“Ah, I think I get this game now,” Evan said. “Can I go next?”
Sweet Evan. Sweet, naïve Evan. I sighed with relief. Finally, the game would move on, and everyone would forget Darren and Calista’s entirely deluded suggestions that Tru and I were anything but good friends.
Hell, I wasn’t even gay. Or bi. So how could I be in love with my male best friend? I barely dated women, much less men. I was too busy working my ass off, trying to prove myself at the construction company Truman’s dad had built from the ground up while my dad did his best to drink himself into an early grave.
I’d always thought Truman would be right there by my side on the crew, making the back-breaking labor more fun. He had a way of turning everything in life into a big laugh. I hadn’t even realized how much he made me smile until he was gone and every day was just one dreary slog after another.
“Two truths and a lie,” Evan said. “Okay. I’m creating my own app.”
That was undoubtedly true. Evan was a classic tech geek, and at eighteen, he already did freelance work for a handful of companies. He didn’t need a degree, evidently, because he’d taught himself everything he needed to know in his spare time.
Evan continued, “I’m dating a girl.”
There was an immediate snort of laughter. Evan had been out as a gay boy for years.
“And…” He glanced guiltily in my direction. Oh no. Not him too. “Lyle and Truman are totally couples goals. If they could only see it for themselves.”
“Et tu, Evan,” I said.
Beside me, Truman gasped. “Evan, you’re dating a girl?”
Evan looked floored. “What? No?”
“The game is two truths and a lie,” Tru said. “If you’re not dating a girl, you told two lies.”
Evan shook his head. “Sorry, guys. But I’m still gay.”
“Well, I’m not,” I said shortly, standing and dragging Truman up by the arm. “I think it’s time to call it a night.”
Never Have I Evan #1
“Linc was moving fast. His hands were all over you.”
I flushed, remembering the uncomfortable feeling of Linc pressing close. I’d ordered myself to relax, to try to enjoy the attention.
“Isn’t finding a guy who actually wants to be close to me the point?” I said before I could properly filter my thoughts. The words came out strangely accusatory.
Dawson didn’t flinch from my words though. He grew even more intense. “No. The idea was for you to flirt a little and get comfortable with seeing yourself as someone worthy of attention.”
“Okay…”
“You are, Ev. You deserve someone who will appreciate everything about you, from your intelligence to your sweet blushes. Not just your…”
“What?”
His voice came out in a whisper. “Your amazing ass.”
My face heated as I laughed. “What?”
Dawson took a second to gather his thoughts. “I kind of pushed you into this, when you think about it. I didn’t mean to, but… All that teasing about learning to flirt, and me playing wingman. Maybe…”
“Maybe what?”
He spoke slowly, the words seemingly pulled from somewhere deep inside. “Maybe I was too invested in your sex life.”
My heart skipped. Was he saying what I thought he was saying?
“Why would you be?”
“I don’t know.” He hesitated, then added, “Say the word and we can leave this idea behind. You don’t need to lose your virginity. Who cares as long as you’re happy? If or when you want sex, it’ll happen.”
“But I do want sex!”
I clapped my hand over my mouth, realizing my voice had risen.
Dawson raised an eyebrow. “With Linc?”
I dropped my hand, sighing. “Not really.”
He nodded. “What about with me?”
My breath caught. I stared at him, unable to speak, my brain stuck on his words, sure I’d misheard him. “Sorry?”
“Do you want to have sex with me?”
I licked my lips, suddenly nervous. “Why would you ask me that? You’re not…into men.”
“Not normally,” he said. “But the thing is, I can’t stop thinking about what happened the other night.”
“Your body reacted to stimulus, that’s all. It was embarrassing and awkward, but—”
“It wasn’t just that. I mean, thanks for giving me an easy out, but no. I keep thinking about you, specifically. You and me, and…all the things I could show you.”
Heat washed through me. For once, it wasn’t embarrassment, but something headier. Did Dawson want me?
“I must be dreaming,” I murmured.
“I don’t want there to be any confusion,” he said. “I’ve never been into guys before, and I don’t know why this is different. My last relationship ended horribly, and I’m not sure I can ever date again, can ever have someone trust and rely on me that way. But, uh, we could…explore things. Together.”
“Sex things?” I said, needing to clarify.
Despite the tense tone of the conversation up to this point, Dawson suddenly smiled at me. There was a predatory gleam in his eye. “Yeah, Ev. Sex things.”
I expelled a big breath, my head spinning. It was a lot to process. I’d been so certain Dawson was entirely out of reach—especially after Bonergate. But instead of freaking over his reaction and trying to stay away from me, he wanted to pull me closer. To explore his sexuality with me.
It was probably a terrible idea, right? What if he ended up hating it? What if I fell in love with him while it was just sexual release to him?
But as Dawson Woods, the most gorgeous man I’d ever seen in real life, offered himself to me, I knew I’d never say no. Dawson checked all my boxes. Even if it was only physical, it would be incredible to experience it with him. And unlike Linc, or any of those guys on apps, I knew him. I trusted him.
“Okay,” I said, knowing I might never get a chance like this again. “Yeah.”
If there was emotional fallout, I’d deal with it later.
“Yeah?”
Some sense of preservation made me say, “But you’ve got to kiss me first. I’ve never been properly kissed, and—”
I want to be sure you’re not turned off by it.
Dawson’s mouth came down on mine before I could finish my sentence.
Truth or Darren #2
Darren caught my uneasy expression and smirked. “Oh, I’ve got the perfect dare.”
“Yeah?”
“I dare you to kiss a guy. And not just some peck. You have to mean it. Emulate Dawson over there and give it a hundred precent.”
“That’s the dare?”
“That’s it.”
I glanced around the group. “Any guy?”
His wide mouth quirked, eyes sparking with challenge and amusement. He thought he’d cornered me. Clearly, he didn’t know I was bi. I hadn’t come out until last year at Hayworth, and I hadn’t seen Darren in two years at least. “Yep. Any guy.”
“Even you?”
His grin slipped. “What?”
“I mean, you said any guy. You said you’re not scared of anything. And I know you’re not homophobic, right? You wouldn’t give me a dare like that because you think it’s a big deal to kiss a guy, right?”
Darren scoffed. “Pfft. What? No. I mean, I don’t think it’s a big deal. I can’t speak for what you might think of it.”
“Okay, then. I’ll take the dare and kiss you. Unless you’re gonna run scared when you’re in the hot seat?”
“Oh boy,” someone muttered behind me.
“This should be good,” someone else said with a small snicker.
Their comments washed over me as I stared down Darren. I’d come over here reluctantly, but his antagonism was exactly what I needed. I’d been brimming with rage for days, frustrated as my future plans were vaporized without warning, and Darren Rafferty made the perfect target.
He glared. “I don’t run from anything. Besides, it’s not like you’ve got the guts to kiss me.”
I barked a laugh. “You picked the wrong day to fuck with me.”
“Like I said, you don’t have the—”
I grabbed a fistful of his shirt and jerked him close, then slammed my mouth onto his. Darren stumbled into me, his hands clutching my waist as he caught his balance. His hard body pressed against mine, and heat lanced through me. Jesus, he was hot. I hated him, but he was so fucking gorgeous I couldn’t help but enjoy the kiss.
He gasped, startled, and I swept my tongue into his mouth. Darren had goaded me into this—and I was going to make the most of it. He tasted like Jack Daniel’s, which sent a flicker of guilt through me. He’d clearly been drinking. But he’d been clear-eyed when he’d challenged me, and I couldn’t seem to detach from his delectable mouth.
His tongue curled around mine, and my eyes rolled back in my head. I gripped his hair tighter, having no idea when I’d lifted my hands to touch him, and tried to maintain control of the kiss—but it was too late. Darren was in the driver’s seat now, and he relentlessly devoured my mouth, making me take everything he wanted to give as he kissed me back.
Wait a second. He was kissing me back.
What the fuck?
Shocked out of my lusty stupor, I jerked back. Darren’s eyes were wide and dark, a little intense as he stared at me. We were both breathing hard.
I was aware of the crowd of people watching us, all of them silent, as if waiting for all hell to break loose.
“Well,” he said, sounding surprisingly calm, “I guess I underestimated how far you’d go to prove me wrong.”
“No,” I said with a shit-eating grin. “You just failed to realize that daring me to kiss a guy is no dare at all.” I leaned in close and whispered. “I like men, Darren.”
He gaped. “Wh-what?”
“I’m bi, and you’re a dumbass,” I said. “I guess you didn’t get the memo.”
Saturday's Series Spotlight
Games We Play
Rules We Break
DJ Jamison writes romances about everyday life and extraordinary love featuring a variety of queer characters, from gay to bisexual to asexual. DJ grew up in the Midwest in a working-class family, and those influences can be found in her writing through characters coping with real-life problems: money troubles, workplace drama, family conflicts and, of course, falling in love. DJ spent more than a decade in the newspaper industry before chasing her first dream to write fiction. She spent a lifetime reading before that and continues to avidly devour her fellow authors’ books each night. She lives in Kansas with her husband, two sons, one snake, and a sadistic cat named Birdie.
Two Truths and a Lyle #.5
AUDIBLE / AUDIOBOOKS / TANTOR
Never Have I Evan #1
AUDIBLE / AUDIOBOOKS / TANTOR
Truth or Darren #2
AUDIBLE / AUDIOBOOKS / TANTOR
Series
AUDIBLE / CHIRP / AUDIOBOOKS
Friday, September 1, 2023
🎡📘🎥Friday's Film Adaptation🎥📘🎡: Truly, Madly, Sweetly by Kira Archer
Sweet Love #1
Sugar and spice and love that’s oh-so nice…
An inherited parking spot. That’s all it took to make Natalie Moran’s food truck dreams come true. But her dream space is attached to a bakery inherited by someone else—drop dead gorgeous Eric Schneider, a financial consultant who wouldn’t know a cupcake from a cannoli. And he wants to buy Nat out, no matter what she has to say about it.
Eric’s determined to build his own business, but he needs the super cute klutz with the cupcake truck to help. If Nat will teach him the basics of running a bakery, he’ll give her free kitchen time. Except…neither expects the heat burning between them or the possibility that their arrangement might become permanent.
When it all blows up, Nat is convinced his actions mean betrayal. It’s up to Eric to regain her trust and show her he’s a man who is truly, madly in love with her, before she disappears from his life forever.
CHAPTER 1
Natalie checked her mirrors, held her breath, and eased her truck out of the parking space at the depot. She waited for an opening in the traffic whizzing by — a delicate operation that was sometimes more than her frazzled nerves could take. She loved Hoboken, loved being so close to New York City, and was thrilled she'd finally managed to save enough to get her own food truck (scratch that — mobile cupcakery). But the traffic ... the traffic she could definitely do without.
Navigating the delicate ecosystem of food truck vendors was harrowing enough. They were angry that she, a relative newcomer, was getting a prime location. The only reason they hadn't run her out of town was because the lady she'd bought the truck from had taken her on as a sort of informal apprentice the year before she retired. Since Natalie was more or less taking over the woman's cupcake business, the other vendors grudgingly considered her grandfathered in. Well, at least the bitch-outs were down to once or twice a week rather than every day. Yay for improvements!
The blaring honk of the truck behind her jolted her out of her ruminations and she punched the gas, lurching into the flow of traffic, holding her breath until she made it safely onto the narrow street. Gina, her BFF and sometime business partner, was so much better at the driving thing.
Unfortunately, Gina had had a hot date last night and was still MIA, so Nat had to wing it on her own through the incessant honking horns and wall-to-wall moving metal death traps. Give her a nice, safe train any day.
Then again, the food truck allowed her to peddle her delicious wares all over the city and hopefully, she'd be able to make enough to buy her own bakery one day. A real storefront, maybe in a gorgeous old brick building ... with a green and white striped awning over the door like the one her dad used to take her to on her birthday every year. The daydream kept her company while she made the drive to the PATH and pulled into her sell spot, a prime place across from the busiest exit of the train station. All those harried Wall Street drones disembarking from their busy day jobs were always jonesing for a good sugar rush. And the moms and nannies ferrying kids between activities and shopping trips were generally good for a sale, too. Business had been amazing.
Not to mention, she was parked right next to the gelato truck which allowed her to indulge in her favorite pastime: ogling one particular suit who had a serious addiction to the frozen stuff. No matter what the weather, if the gelato truck was there, her heavenly hunk of blond deliciousness never failed to stop by for a cone. One day she'd rev up the nerve to try and convert Mr. Gelato from ice cream to cupcake — maybe.
Natalie popped open her windows and set about straightening the mess that Gina had left the night before. She rearranged the selection of cupcake toppings in alphabetical order, her shoulders relaxing a bit once everything was back in its proper, logical, and organized place. She made sure the counters gleamed, the cupcakes were displayed in the most optimum way, and she was ready for her first customer. The other vendors glared good morning at her and she smiled sweetly back. She'd win them over ... eventually.
Gina showed up three hours later, bounding into the truck in a sickeningly good mood. "Sorry, sorry, sorry!"
"I had to drive," Nat pointed out.
"I know, totally my bad," Gina said, wrapping the neon pink and green apron with their Street Cakes logo emblazoned on it around her waist. "I'm amazed the truck is still in one piece."
Gina ducked and the cupcake Nat threw at her bounced harmlessly off the wall. "Your aim seriously sucks."
Nat snorted. "Tell me something I don't know."
"Go take a break. I'll hold down the fort for a few minutes."
Nat grinned and grabbed a bottle of water. A nice little stroll did sound good. "Just for a minute. Don't burn the place down while I'm gone."
"I'll try." Gina stuck her tongue out, the little girl gesture looking totally out of place with her favorite heavy eyeliner, lip ring, and pink streaked black hair. "Get out of here."
Nat stepped outside the truck and took a deep breath, lifting her face to the slight breeze. The end of summer had given way to slightly cooler days, but it still got uncomfortably hot inside the truck. She closed her eyes and took another good breath and stepped around the side of the truck onto the sidewalk.
Right into a man who'd been innocently enjoying a cone of chocolate gelato.
Her forehead collided with his elbow ... the elbow that was attached to the hand that held his cone ... the cone that had been lifted to his mouth ... the cone that was now plastered all over his face and, from what she could tell, was also lodged a good way up his nose.
The gorgeous, perfectly sculpted nose that belonged to her Mr. Gelato.
"Holy crap! I'm so sorry!" Nat turned around and grabbed a handful of napkins from the ledge of her truck, throwing a horrified glance at Gina who was staring with her jaw hanging open.
"Here," she said, trying to mop up his face.
He hadn't moved or said a word and Nat worried that the gelato had somehow made it so far up his nose it had frozen his brain and paralyzed him. She opened her mouth to apologize again when he suddenly lifted a finger, his face screwing up into a horrible grimace. He snatched the wad of napkins from her and she jerked back. But instead of throwing them in her face as he had every right to do, he brought them to his own face and sneezed. Explosively.
Nat gasped and turned back to grab another handful of napkins, thrusting them into his dripping hands.
He took them, nodded his thanks, and blew his nose several more times.
"Here." Gina tossed her the baby wipes they used for sticky situations and Nat turned back to Mr. Gelato, who seemed to be doing much better now that he'd cleared his sinuses of the frozen treat.
"I'm so, so sorry. I didn't see you there."
One corner of Gelato's mouth quirked up. "Obviously."
Nat gave him a hesitant smile and handed him the wet wipes. He mopped his face off and cleaned up his hands before getting as much of the goop off his shirt as he could.
"You missed a spot," Nat said, reaching up to wipe a bit of chocolate from the tip of his nose. He didn't move but stood still, watching her with a pair of unbelievable blue eyes. Almost gray. Like the color of the sky just before a storm, when it should be too dark to see anything, yet the sun manages to shine through. The ring surrounding the iris was such a dark shade of gray it was almost black. The combination was striking.
Nat also couldn't help but notice her head would fit perfectly into the hollow beneath his chin. And she bet it would feel pretty damned wonderful to have his arms wrapped around her, arms that were encased in a gorgeous tailored suit. If the straining seams were any indication, they were probably everything her imagination was cracking them up to be.
His smile grew wider, showing a row of straight, white teeth. A tiny scar cut through his upper lip just at the right corner. She had an outrageous urge to kiss that spot. She bit her own lip instead, trying to get a grip.
"I think you've gotten it all," he said. "Might have taken off a few layers of skin, too."
Nat blinked and dropped her hand, her face flaming hot. She'd been standing there dabbing at his face like some hypnotized monkey. He must think she was totally insane. She took a big step backward, hoping he realized she came in peace, despite the mess she'd made of his beautiful shirt.
"I'm so sorry," she apologized yet again. "You have to let me pay to get your suit cleaned. Here." She snatched a business card from her back pocket and thrust it into his hand. "Just call me and let me know how much it is. I, ah ..."
He still stared at her with a mixture of amusement and something else she couldn't quite pinpoint. At least he wasn't screaming at her or threatening to sue or anything. Though the scrutiny made her squirm. She decided she'd better cut her losses while she could and make a quick getaway.
"I gotta go," she said, suddenly wanting to be anywhere else but there. "Sorry again!" she called over her shoulder.
He looked like he was going to say something but she didn't stick around to find out what. Gina could continue to watch the truck. Nat needed to get a good, solid grip first. She turned to scurry off as fast as her unfashionable, but comfortable, orthopedics could carry her.
* * *
Eric hurried inside his brownstone, flipping on the lights. He tossed his ruined shirt onto the couch, a smile on his lips at the thought of Cupcake's face when she was mopping him up. She'd looked perfectly edible. That delicious, kissable mouth hanging slightly open, those gorgeous hazel eyes wide with surprise, curls as deep brown as the chocolate he loved so much, escaping the bun she had them tucked in. He'd seen her around town in that crazy pink and green truck, but he'd never been big on cake so he hadn't stopped. He might have to rethink his position on that particular dessert.
"Pathetic," Jared said. His friend trailed in and stood staring at him, his face puckered in disappointment.
Eric looked over, his brows raised in surprise. "What?"
Jared shook his head. "Some crazy chick ruins a shirt that cost more than I make in a month and you're just standing there with a dumbass grin on your face like you're happy about it. You should be suing her for damages, not trying to figure out the best way to ask her out."
"I haven't asked her out."
"Yet."
"Yet," Eric agreed.
Jared shook his head, picking up the shirt. "She's trouble, man. Usually they end things by destroying your shit. I wouldn't want to find out how this chick ends things if this is how she starts it." He chucked the shirt at Eric who caught it effortlessly.
Eric grinned. "You only say that because you haven't met her."
"Whatever, dude. Some chick trashes my stuff, the last thing I'm doing is hitting her up for a date."
"And that's why you're twenty-eight and have never had a relationship that's lasted longer than thirty minutes." He grabbed a water bottle out of the fridge and headed for the bathroom.
"Where are you going?"
"Gotta take a quick shower."
"You're going to be late."
Eric ignored him and closed his door. He knew he didn't have much time, but he couldn't head back out until he'd showered. He loved chocolate, but being covered in all kinds of sticky sweetness was only fun in certain circumstances. Meeting his favorite aunt's lawyer to find out what she'd left him in her will wasn't one of those occasions. He wasn't going anywhere until he'd washed it off.
He dropped the rest of his clothes in a heap on the floor, grabbed a couple aspirin from the medicine cabinet, and chugged them down with a few swigs of water. Then he climbed in the shower and cranked the water up as hot as he could stand it. Having frozen chocolate shoved into the far recesses of his sinus cavities gave brain freeze a whole new meaning. He bowed his head under the stream of water, enjoying the slight sting of the scalding water.
He loved his home. It came courtesy of his grandparents and it was the first thing he'd owned without help from his corporate bigwig father or socialite mother. The only thing that was truly his and his alone. It brought new meaning to the words "fixer-upper" but he was slowly turning it into his dream house. The first thing he'd renovated had been the bathroom, and he'd spared no expense — turning it into a luxury oasis. His father thought it was frivolous. Maybe it was. But his father's disapproval made him love it even more. A small show of rebellion in a life of unquestioning obedience.
Eric had wanted to go to art school. But while Jared had gone on to become a graphic designer, Eric had given up his dream so he could get "a real job," as his father had put it. He'd tossed his paints and brushes and gone to the college his parents had chosen, gotten the degree they'd wanted, taken the job his father had lined up for him. Eventually, he would step into his father's shoes and run his corporation. Schneider Financial Consultants would become Schneider and Son. His father's plan since the day his son had been born. Leaving the son in question very little to say in the matter.
For now ... well, for now, he'd enjoy the hell out of his Italian marble shower fitted with two massive showerheads and enough side jets to sandblast the gelato off him in a matter of seconds. He'd deal with the rest of his life later.
Eric grabbed the soap and lathered it into every inch of his tense, frustrated body. The bubbles ran in cascades over his rock solid abs. He made a mental note to be sure to hit the gym the next day since he wouldn't have time that night. Those hard-won abs wouldn't stay rock solid if he didn't keep on top of things. Especially with his love of all things chocolate.
Speaking of keeping on top of things ... A delightful vision of Cupcake (or Natalie as her card had said, though Cupcake suited her to a T) lying beneath him, her body covered in chocolate sprinkles he could lick off, one at a time, invaded his mind. All the blood drained from his head, rushing south where it thought it would do him the most good. Eric opened his mouth, letting the hot water fill it, washing the faint taste of chocolate away. He had no time to humor his favorite appendage. And it would have been a poor substitute for the funny, beautiful woman who was tormenting his thoughts, anyway.
"Eric!" Jared shouted from outside the door. "You better move it!"
Eric turned the water off and stepped out, grabbing a towel to rub over his head. He caught a glance at his watch and swore. He was really late now.
He threw on a soft pair of faded jeans and the first shirt his hand touched when he opened his closet and headed for the door. He and Jared hurried out to his car and hopped in. His destination was only a few blocks down, but if he had to transport some heavy objects, he didn't want to be doing it on foot.
"So what do you think your aunt left you?" Jared asked.
"I don't know. I'm meeting her lawyer at that old bakery she's had sitting around forever. Maybe she left me the building. Or something in it."
"What the hell would you do with a bakery?"
Eric shrugged. "It's just an empty building, as far as I know. I guess I could sell it, or lease it. Maybe tear it down and sell the land, if the building is in bad shape. I haven't been there in years. Used to love going there, though. But I have no clue what condition it's in now. Guess we'll find out."
He slowed down as they neared the old bakery.
Eric looked out the window and his heart jumped at the sight of a blindingly pink and green food truck trying to maneuver into a narrow space in front of the building. "Cupcake."
"Who?" Jared asked.
"The girl from the train station, the cupcake truck."
"The one who shoved gelato up your nose? What the hell is she doing here?"
"I don't know."
He cranked the wheel and parked his car against the curb behind the truck. Time to go see what the girl he wanted was doing in what he hoped would soon be his building.
Release Date: September 22, 2018
Release Time: 82 minutes
Director: Ron Oliver
Cast:
Nikki Deloach as Natalie Morgan
Dylan Neal as Eric
Karen Holness as Sam
Justine Warrington as Ms. Granger
Matt Hamilton as David Howe
Alison Wandzura as Courtney Belize
Bailey Skodje as Lily
June B. Wilde as Ms. Cleveland
Fiona Forbes as Anna
Dalias Blake as Nick
Milo Shandel as Stan Cardillo
Forbes Angus as Building inspector
Simon Chin as Simon
Gaalen Engen as Walter
USA Today bestselling author Kira Archer tends to laugh at inappropriate moments and break all the rules she gives her kids (but only when they aren’t looking) and would rather be reading than doing almost anything else. Her novel Truly, Madly, Sweetly, was adapted as a Hallmark Original movie in 2018. Kira resides in Pennsylvania with her husband, two kiddos, and far too many animals in the house. She also writes historical romances as Michelle McLean.
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