Showing posts with label nacht & euclid. Show all posts
Showing posts with label nacht & euclid. Show all posts

Wednesday, February 10, 2021

Release Blitz: The Prodigal Prince's Fake FiancΓ© by Thursday Euclid & Clancy Nacht

Title: The Prodigal Prince's Fake FiancΓ©
Authors: Thursday Euclid & Clancy Nacht
Genre: M/M Romance, trans man romance
Release Date: February 9, 2021
Cover Design: Clancy Nacht
Publisher: Eine Kleine Press


Summary:

Will a trans prince’s fake engagement end in love?

His Royal Highness Morgan Schuyler, an aggressively toppy trans man, wants nerdy Lin Callahan the moment he sees him. When a hurricane in the Atlantic grounds their flight, Morgan seizes the opportunity to share a hotel suite with his petite, cis lust object. Their torrid fling ends with the flight to New York City, but a coffee shop run-in reveals they’re attending the same posh fine arts grad school.

While they’re both still daydreaming about that weekend together, neither will admit it. Feelings are awkward, and Morgan refuses to have them for anyone but his childhood best friend, Carmen. As for Lin...his ex-boyfriend has moved cross-country in an attempt to rekindle a romance that doesn't hit the same since that weekend in France.

When Morgan’s forced to choose between an arranged marriage and presenting his parents with a fake fiancΓ©, he’ll need to navigate his attraction to Lin without catching feelings. How is it possible to want someone so much and yet be so terrified of their emotional intimacy? Maybe that's why Morgan still hasn't told Lin he's royalty...

This 73k contemporary m/m trans #ownvoices romance combines perennial favorite tropes such as the Secret Royal with a Fake Relationship, Stranded with Only One Bed, a Fling in Europe leading to Unrequited Love and a Second Chance, and ultimately a Return to Hometown for a Playboy Prince as True Love mends a Fractured Family.



As it turned out, though, his row mate wasn’t in the bathroom but with the pilot, and when he emerged, Morgan couldn’t help staring.

On the shorter side of average, certainly. Shorter than Morgan. Straight, sandy hair worn long, curling up where it met his button-down collar. Surprisingly fashionable though, really, even if it was super cazh. Skinny jeans, chukkas, the button-down layered over a graphic tee Morgan couldn’t quite make out between the open plackets. His puppyish brown eyes crinkled deeply at the corners in the most precious possible way.

When he caught Morgan staring, he blushed. Actually blushed. And hid behind the messenger bag he carried crossbody but cradled like a baby, as if he was too awkward to cope with being eye-fucked.

God, Morgan wanted to eat him alive. He squeezed his thighs together and willed himself to stay cool, but he was already getting hard. Biting his lip, he inhaled sharply through his nostrils and turned his attention toward the window to look out at the boring expanse of tarmac.

He’d been in Lidonia too long. Months. No parties, no cutting loose, no hookups. Now Morgan was sitting next to this delicious dork for seven hours, and he couldn’t do a damn thing about the throbbing ache inside him.

He needed a fuck. Just…so badly.

And a drink.

Where were the cabin crew? There should’ve been four attendants waiting on them. Could they really all be in the galley?

As Delicious Dork fidgeted at the corner of Morgan’s vision, he turned his head fully, looked up at where DD still hadn’t sat down, and asked, “Is something going on in the cockpit, or were you just visiting?”

“Oh, um…” DD wrapped one hand around the strap of his bag. The other pushed his hair behind his ear as he looked back toward the cockpit. “Well, it’s um, the flight’s not going to happen. There’s an…um…weather event in the Atlantic, so nowhere to land.”

DD looked up and around, then toward the back of the plane. “I was going to grab my bag and um… figure something out.”

He appeared strangely guilty, as if the weather event was his fault, which, okay. Maybe he was Catholic? Morgan could relate.

Then DD abruptly headed to the baggage compartment.

A moment later, the pilot’s voice crackled over the speakers. “Hurricane Eileen has grown to a category five in the mid-Atlantic. She’s scheduled to make landfall in New York in the next day or so, and until that resolves, it’s just not safe for us to continue our scheduled flight. My apologies. It’s an act of God, as I’m certain you understand. You all have the JetShare app, and we’ll send a push notification when our flight is rescheduled. It may be tomorrow, but considering the potential weather ramifications of Eileen on New York City, it may be a couple of days. Stay tuned. We’re taxiing back to the terminal now, where the cabin crew will help you with your baggage so you may disembark and enjoy sunny Nice a little longer. Thanks for flying with us.”

The other passengers groaned and grumbled amongst themselves. Morgan wasn’t thrilled either.

Then DD returned, rolling his bag behind him, and took his seat as the jet taxied from the runway back to the private terminal. His face was turned away toward the window as he talked on the phone, making arrangements for somewhere to stay.

Capital idea, really, and several steps ahead of everyone else on the jet.

Morgan produced his own phone and then floundered. Who should he call? Where would he stay? No way was he going back to Lidonia. It was a short trip, but… no.

Besides, the weather might clear up tomorrow, and he’d have to extricate himself from the familial grasp all over again. No, thank you.

So somewhere local to NCE. Sure, that’d be easy. Nice had a zillion suitable hotels…

Which a quick peek at Morgan’s travel guide app informed him were entirely booked. Like, booked solid. Because of some goddamned festival, combined with peak tourism season, which…

Morgan understood. The CΓ΄te d'Azur was gorgeous, and of course people flocked here from all over the world. It was almost as beautiful as Lidonia—not that Morgan was biased—but far more accessible to the average traveler.

Out of bloody-minded curiosity, Morgan changed his app settings to show three-star hotels. Still nothing.

Despairing, he removed the restrictions.

A few shady looking establishments appeared to have rooms, but Morgan couldn’t bring himself to stay somewhere like that. He liked living the ordinary life, but he wasn’t certain it was safe for someone of his particular needs to stay overnight somewhere with such limited security.

His parents would, frankly, demand he come home and never leave again if they found out. Which they might well do, considering establishments like that weren’t known for discretion with their celebrity clientele.

While Morgan had managed to stay out of the public eye thanks to living in the States—and the tireless efforts of the palace PR professionals—sometimes people still recognized him. He hadn’t changed his name, after all, and while most people never put it together, this close to his native soil….

Well.

Goddamn it.

He just couldn’t risk it. It would destroy him if it got out, squelch any hope of blessed anonymity. His Serene Highness Rodolfo would recall him to the Lidonian court, and that would be it for Morgan’s private life. From there on out, he’d be a pawn of the Principality.

As the jet came to a halt, DD unbuckled and started to slip from Morgan’s metaphorical grasp, and that was just not going to happen. If he had a room…

Well.

Morgan’s groin tightened pleasantly. They could certainly make use of a room together.

Rushing to follow, Morgan fell into step behind DD and placed a light hand on his shoulder to get his attention. “Hello, Delicious. Listen, is there any chance you could wait for me to get my luggage? I’d like to talk to you for a moment before we part ways.”

“Oh, um…” DD looked panicked “Yeah. Listen, I’m really sorry about the flight. Just, fuel’s really, you know, it can only hold what it can hold, and diverting is a nightmare. Safer to, um, you know...”

The business set shot DD dirty looks as they passed by. He stepped aside and took a seat, as much of an answer as Morgan was likely to get.

Cabin crew stood at the doorway to storage, matching luggage with annoyed passengers, apologizing as if it was their fault.

Morgan claimed his vintage trunk and turned to face DD. They were the last passengers on board. “I wasn’t blaming you for the flight being delayed. Perish. No, rather, I was curious about your accommodations. It sounds as if you already secured a room, and I am, sadly, without such.”

Approaching Delicious with a wicked little smile, Morgan raised a brow. “Think you could help me?”


Together, Texans and platonic life partners Thursday Euclid and Clancy Nacht write queer novels that span genres, with intense romances and a seamless shared narrative voice.

They published their first co-written novel, the m/m rock star romance Black Gold, in 2010, and now have over a decade of award-winning collaborations under their exquisite belts. Recent titles include the twisted romance His Fake Prison Daddy and the Phisher King series, in which an uptight federal agent and a bratty hacker go from enemies to lovers while solving a hate crime.

Though Elder Millennial trans man Thursday and Gen X gender outlaw Clancy live three hours apart, they are inseparable. Their friendship is a perfect example of the Grumpy/Sunshine trope, which makes Thursday very happy. Clancy thinks it’s all right.

Clancy Nacht
Clancy Nacht is a bisexual genderqueer person who lives in Austin. Many of her books have been honored with Rainbow Awards; Le Jazz Hot won for Best Bisexual/Transgender Romance & Erotic Romance. In 2013, Black Gold: Double Black was a runner-up for a Rainbow Award. In 2015, Gemini won an Honorable Mention for Gay Erotic Romance and in 2016, Strange Times won an Honorable Mention for Science Fiction. Wyatt’s Recipes for Wooing Rock Stars was a finalist in the highly competitive William Neale Award for Best Gay Contemporary Romance. The Phisher King won second place in the Rainbow Award for Romantic Suspense.

Thursday Euclid
The Thursday Euclid is a strange and elusive creature dwelling in the Texas Gulf Coast region. Frequently mistaken for Bigfoot, Chupacabra, or the monster of the week, he is, in fact, a 30-something black sheep with a penchant for K-pop, geekery, and hot and sour soup. When he’s not playing Dragon Age or World of Warcraft, he’s probably watching B-movies or talking to his best friend and frequent collaborator Clancy Nacht. You can find him on Facebook, Twitter, or email him at thursdayeuclid at gmail dot com.


Clancy Nacht
FACEBOOK  /  TWITTER  /  FB FRIEND
INSTAGRAM  /  AMAZON  /  GOODREADS

Thursday Euclid
FACEBOOK  /  TWITTER  /  FB FRIEND
INSTAGRAM  /  AMAZON  /  GOODREADS
EMAIL: thursdayeuclid@gmail.com 




Brought to you by:

Monday, October 5, 2020

Monday's Mystical Magic: Good as Hell by Clancy Nacht & Thursday Euclid

Title: Good as Hell
Authors: Clancy Nacht & Thursday Euclid
Genre: M/M Romance, Paranormal, Fantasy
Release Date: October 1, 2020
Cover Artist: Clancy Nacht
Publisher: Eine Kleine Press

Summary:
Sex magic, infernals and void cats, oh my!

It's a mysteriously charmed life for orphan Sebastien Harris, but it's still a shock to be offered a full ride to attend grad school at the obscure but prestigious Bosch University in upstate New York. Trouble starts as he attempts to reach the campus for his interview: first the train is cancelled, then a swarm of migratory air mattresses block the streets. When he finally arrives, he's too exhausted to question why a remarkably handsome man named Gem is waiting for him, nor does he have time. A demon horde demolishes the university, and the pair run for their lives—at which point Sebastien realizes Gem is not, strictly speaking, human. Their adventure exposes Sebastien's heritage...and reveals the prophecy he is destined to fulfill. Gem is infernal, a human-demon hybrid, and meant to be Sebastien's servitor, a magical well from which Sebastien, a warlock by birth, will draw the power to remake the world. If he survives.


“You’re late.” The tall man’s tone was so nonchalant it bordered on melodic, carrying the cadence of a world-weary sigh. “That is, you’re late if you’re Sebastien Harris.” He paused, eyeing Sebastien from his lofty vantage. His aquiline features formed an exceedingly dubious expression. “Are you Sebastien Harris? The gates opened for you, so I’m making an assumption here, but honestly.”

He pulled languidly at his pipe and made no comment about the cacophonic blue jays or the Hello Kitty helmet.

Sebastien wanted to reply, but he was still having a hard time breathing. Instead, he pulled off the helmet and let it roll away as he stared up at the man and nodded.

With the visor out of the way, Sebastien could admire the stranger properly. Even breathless and flat on his ass, Sebastien had to admit he was interested.

The tall man flowed smoothly into a crouch beside Sebastien, his long legs moving like well-oiled hinges, too graceful by far. His monochromatic ensemble was shades of gray, black, and white from dark curled hair down to his pointy-toed, iridescent black boots. It wasn’t exactly cool out—although it seemed far crisper here than it had on the road—but the man wore what looked like five or six layers on top, most of them silk or velvet or some other expensive material.

Sebastien had met lots of fashionable boys living in New York City, but this man seemed like another species entirely.

“Sebastien,” the man repeated with a little more enthusiasm this time, holding Sebastien’s gaze in a way that suggested he’d caught him looking. “You’re very late. Get your shit together, fresh meat.”

He smiled just a little, but it transformed his striking countenance into one far more accommodating, though still edged with intriguing cruelty.

After another puff from his pipe, the stranger passed it to his off hand and extended the other to shake.

“You can call me Gem, if you please,” he rasped as he exhaled richly scented pipe smoke to one side.

Sebastien took Gem’s hand and shook it even as Gem helped him to his feet. Sebastien’s legs trembled as he rose; the day’s activities were really catching up with him.

“I was delayed!” Sebastien shouted it, gesturing at the shrieking party of blue jays swarming around the gazebo. “I mean, I knew the birds were bad in the city, but I had no idea how intense they got this far out. How does anyone get here on time?”

This was, of course, leaving out the frolicking flock of mattresses and the subway being shut down, both of which were… Well, he had planned for the subway to possibly fail.

But it was his first mattress migration.

“Are you talking about the birds?” Gem looked momentarily puzzled as he gestured with his pipe toward the flock. “I’m uncertain how to break this news to you, Sebastien, but… Those are your birds. They’re here for you. They are not Bosch birds.”

He smiled, just a little, and this time it was distinctly unsettling. “You’ll know it when you see Bosch birds.”

“I don’t have birds. I was thinking about getting a cat, but—”

Fuck. Why was Sebastien bringing that up?

He was late, probably a mess, and there were angry birds.

Sebastien tried to smooth hair that had mostly parted ways with the little bun on the back of his head. Some stuck to his face, and he brushed it away as he looked down at what had once been a tidy, if imperfect, tie. The dress shirt was all but soaked through with sweat under the knit sweater he’d thought made him look quite smart. Now it just made him feel… damp.

Wincing as he peeled the sweaty fabric away from his skin, Sebastien mulled over the Bosch birds. That notion rang a bell, but he couldn’t quite place it. He couldn’t fucking think. The noise was inhuman.

“If they’re my birds, I’d really appreciate it if they shut up,” Sebastien muttered off-hand.

The shrieking stopped, leaving behind portentous silence.

He stared at Gem. Gem stared at him. Sebastien opened his mouth, thought, closed it again, and then blurted, “Um. That was weird.”
Weird being a relative term.

Then the ground began to shake.

Clancy Nacht
Clancy Nacht is a bisexual genderqueer person who lives in Austin. Many of her books have been honored with Rainbow Awards; Le Jazz Hot won for Best Bisexual/Transgender Romance & Erotic Romance. In 2013, Black Gold: Double Black was a runner-up for a Rainbow Award. In 2015, Gemini won an Honorable Mention for Gay Erotic Romance and in 2016, Strange Times won an Honorable Mention for Science Fiction. Wyatt’s Recipes for Wooing Rock Stars was a finalist in the highly competitive William Neale Award for Best Gay Contemporary Romance. The Phisher King won second place in the Rainbow Award for Romantic Suspense.

Thursday Euclid
The Thursday Euclid is a strange and elusive creature dwelling in the Texas Gulf Coast region. Frequently mistaken for Bigfoot, Chupacabra, or the monster of the week, he is, in fact, a 30-something black sheep with a penchant for K-pop, geekery, and hot and sour soup. When he’s not playing Dragon Age or World of Warcraft, he’s probably watching B-movies or talking to his best friend and frequent collaborator Clancy Nacht. You can find him on Facebook, Twitter, or email him at thursdayeuclid at gmail dot com.


Clancy Nacht
FACEBOOK  /  TWITTER  /  FB FRIEND
INSTAGRAM  /  AMAZON  /  GOODREADS

Thursday Euclid
FACEBOOK  /  TWITTER  /  FB FRIEND
INSTAGRAM  /  AMAZON  /  GOODREADS
EMAIL: thursdayeuclid@gmail.com 




Brought to you by:

Wednesday, April 17, 2019

Release Blitz: Outshined by Clancy Nacht & Thursday Euclid

Title: Outshined
Authors: Clancy Nacht & Thursday Euclid
Series: Tall Thicket Tales #1
Genre: M/M Romance
Release Date: April 16, 2019
Cover Artist: Thursday Euclid
Publisher: Eine Kleine Press

Summary:
Fall 1993.

Well, it isn't his Plan A...

At his surgeon father's insistence, premed bad boy Cameron Lord transfers from the massive University of Texas to tiny Tall Thicket State University in small-town East Texas. After the scandal of seducing the dean’s son during their sophomore year in Austin and being diagnosed with bipolar disorder, Cameron needs a fresh start. Dr. Lord insists Cameron's lucky any school still wants him, but Cameron's more concerned with whether a certain gorgeous blond undergrad is interested.

After spotting Tim Sullivan through the plate glass window of Big Cheeser's Pizza, Cameron can't resist the opportunity to apply for a job there. Angelically handsome, Tim's also frontman for popular local cover band the Angry Goats, proving there's more to him than polo shirts and shy smiles. When Tim reveals he's on Prozac for severe depression, Cameron's convinced they understand each other. But with Tim's evangelical upbringing, the terror of the AIDS epidemic, and the casual homophobia of Tim's bandmate, will virgin Tim be brave enough to acknowledge his growing interest in worldly, reckless Cameron?


Tall Thicket, Texas. Home to Tall Thicket State and Woodpeckers football, for those who even fucking cared. Texans or not, most Thicketers knew the Woodpeckers sucked. No one with any talent came to East Texas to play ball, and honestly, the student body didn’t care. In 1993, they had other things on their minds.

Cameron Lord definitely did. Transferring junior year from the massive University of Texas hadn’t been his Plan A, but after the way he fucked up sophomore year in Austin, well, he needed a fresh start. His dad insisted he was lucky Tall Thicket wanted him, and Cameron had argued enough with his dad recently.

Besides, TTSU had a great psych department. So that worked out, probably. When Cameron had graduated high school near the top of his class, everyone figured he’d become a surgeon like his dad, but now...

Well. Fuck it. Just, fuck it, right? Psychologist was close enough, and it’d be less pressure, and he kind of knew about the field firsthand now.

What seemed entirely unfair, honestly, was that despite how much money Cameron’s dad was saving by sending him here, he expected Cameron to hold down a part-time job. On one hand, that was great. Cameron liked his independence, and he hated his dad, so not having to ask him for much suited him fine. On the other hand, if these meds didn’t pan out...

Ha.

If these meds didn’t pan out, Cameron would be losing a lot more than a part-time job. Like, oh, his mind?

After two months on them, he felt different. Not better, just different. More detached. Less moved by emotions. That was probably okay, but Cameron couldn’t tell otherwise.

Living off-campus would be nice, at least, right? He’d been in the dorms his two years at UT; at least now he had some space. His therapist, Lynette, had suggested to Dr. Lord that Cameron have somewhere to get away from over-stimulating social situations, so while he still had a roommate, he had his own bedroom with a lock on the door.

Of course, she’d also suggested he walk everywhere because he maybe shouldn’t drive on his current chemical cocktail, but Cameron refused to give up his chopper. He and his dad had built matching ones together when he was sixteen, and it was all he really had left of that part of his life, now he’d blown up their relationship. At least he still had a cool ride.

For all the good it would do him.

His apartment was a stone’s throw from campus, and walking would’ve been easier than driving a bike in the January-molasses kind of traffic moving across the sprawling grounds. By the time he’d done orientation, gotten his books, and settled in, he was convinced he should have bought sensible walking shoes instead of his heavy Doc Martens.

His dad was always telling him to choose substance over style, but what about when style had the most substance? Sometimes form followed function. Wasn’t that better than ugly practicality?

Which seemed to prove Cameron wasn’t cut out for a surgeon’s job. Psychology seemed like a better fit, personal understanding of mental illness aside.

To emphasize the point, Cameron had observed Tall Thicket was home to some improbably good-looking student bodies. The boy who’d been ahead of him at the bookstore had stolen his breath for a good ten seconds and left him light-headed. A girl who sat beside him at orientation had flustered him until he dropped his pencil. Overall, it was a pretty, pretty school—spectacularly landscaped grounds notwithstanding.

Too bad the meds he was on kind of killed his sex drive, along with numbing any other excitement he might feel. Some would argue that was for the best.

With classes starting next week, there was little for Cameron to do with his weekend besides hunker down and settle in, familiarize himself with the town. It wasn’t as dinky as the one-stoplight towns around these parts, but it was a lot smaller than Austin. He’d still been finding cool new spots there when he left. Here, a bike ride down the main drag would take him past just about everything that mattered.

Might as well get out there.

“Going out?” Mike, Cameron’s new roommate, asked as Cameron strode out his bedroom toward the front door.

Cameron grunted in Mike’s direction and shrugged. What did the guy want from him? They had to live together, and if Cameron had his way, that would mean a lot of ships-in-the-night action, not a buddy flick.

“Have fun.” Mike seemed untroubled by Cameron’s attitude and turned his attention back to his grainy recording of Seinfeld.

With two raised fingers, Cameron saluted briefly and headed out. Within moments he was pulling his long hair back into a low ponytail and settling a black helmet on his head. Then he was on his bike and pulling out of the parking lot, turning onto University and then blazing toward the four-lane highway with a roar. Within moments he’d left behind the landscaped campus for the endless rows of mom-and-pop shops intermingled with chain shops.

Clusters of students milled along the sidewalks and waited at corners to cross. Cameron watched them hungrily, the numbness inside growing teeth and gnawing at him. He longed for the belonging of kids hand-in-hand striding over the crosswalk at least as much as he despised it. Easier to dismiss it altogether, though.

Easier never to want what he couldn’t have. Better. Safer.

Lynette talked about comfort zones and stepping outside them, but Cameron wasn’t certain he could survive that much change all at once. Not right now.

Waiting at the stoplight, he caught a glimpse of golden hair through the plate glass window of a pizza place and his chest seized up. Was that bookshop guy?

Oh man, it was.

Bad idea, right? Such a bad idea. Cameron wasn’t hungry, and that guy was probably straight, and this was East Texas.

TheNOW HIRINGsign beckoned, and Cameron sighed and gave in. He had only so much willpower to get him through a day, and most of that was focused on basic human tasks like not driving into oncoming traffic and keeping his balls clean.

He eased across traffic and parked diagonally right in front. He wiped suddenly sweaty hands on his ripped jeans and plaid shirt and then hung his helmet from the ape-hangers.

So what if he was going to mix work and play a little?

So what if he was purposely attempting to get a job somewhere with a devastatingly attractive co-worker who’d fuck his head right up?

Self-destruction was in vogue. He’d wear it well. More to journal about, right?

Cameron wasn’t dressed for success, but what did it even matter? It wasn’t Wall Street. They probably weren’t picky, even if he could just hear his dad moaning over the situation.

Inside, the place was filled with customers. How had Cameron even spotted the golden boy from the road past all these people? Friday night dinner had to be prime time.

The blond man stood in front of the ovens, behind the counter. He held a metal spatula that he clanged against something metal above him before he shouted. “Bell, large supreme pie.”

He then slid a box on the counter in front of him. A woman, presumably Bell, joined the line at the cash register. The man squinted past the heat lamps into the lobby. Their eyes met and his brows rose briefly before he gave a quick nod and then spun around to retrieve another pizza out of the oven.

The place was slammed. As soon as one phone was answered, another rang. The woman answering the phones looked older than the rest of the staff, as if she was in charge. She handled putting people on hold with brutal efficiency, taking down orders on paper slips she stacked until someone came from the back to snatch them away, apparently to fulfill them.

For a second, Cameron considered backing out. Just turning around and walking out. He’d worked at the video store during high school, and Friday nights had been like this, but... Man, food service seemed like a whole other animal. Way more intense.
Though fewer shouting matches so far, at least.

As much as Cameron wanted to bail, the way the blond guy seemed to recognize him—had he, though, or was Cameron reading in?—galvanized him. He stood his ground, waited until he was at the counter, and then licked his lips, suddenly nervous. If he hadn’t been medicated, it would’ve been too much. As it was, he copped a swagger and grinned at the folks behind the counter.

“Saw y’all are hiring. Need help?”

“Oh, um.” The young lady at the front counter crouched down, shuffling papers. She pulled out a pad of job application forms with the company logo in the corner. Ripping one off, she handed it to him and gave him a wide, toothy smile. Her lashes fluttered over her pinkening cheeks. “Need a pen?”

The woman at the phones slung one on her shoulder as she leaned forward, squinting at Cameron. “Hey, kid, you eighteen?”

“Twenty,” Cameron countered with a smile he didn’t feel and a challenge he did. He took the application from the girl and held out his hand for a pen, although he had the sense the manager was inclined to skip to the part where she stopped being short-handed.

The metal clang rang out again as the blond man shouted another name and order. A box appeared on top of another. He paused, looking between Cameron and the manager, then whirled around to grab another pizza out.

“Can you start now? Wash a dish or fifty?” The woman smiled. There was a gap between her front teeth. Her hair was frizzy, probably with the heat and humidity. “Minimum wage, but all the pizza you can eat.”

The blond man dropped the pizza on the table, then ran a roller slicer through with lightning speed. His lithe muscles flexed under the fitted golf shirt. It was probably just the heat that made his cheeks rosy. Or was it?

“Yeah, sure, I can wash dishes tonight. I need a uniform for that?” Cameron tried his best not to stare at the hot boy, especially not in front of potential colleagues. What was he even doing?

Why was he doing this to himself?

He’d never even washed dishes, except at home. The video store had been more with the Be-Kind-Rewind and less with the suds.

“Nah, but you’ll want an apron. Tim, you got an extra apron back there for our new hire?” She glanced over at the blond guy who gave a quick nod before shouting another name.

He peeked into the back and then back to his boss. “Yeah, there’s one on the dough table. Might also need boxes later if this keeps up.”

“Shoot.” She grimaced but set the phone on the stand and then threw open the door to the right of the counter. “Well, you’re hired, um… What’s your name?”

“Cameron.” He stepped through the counter door and sized up the other employees. At least his dad couldn’t ride his ass about this now. He met the manager’s gaze and shrugged one shoulder. “Thanks, um...?”

“Nina. Cameron, great name. Don’t think you’ll need a hat for dishes, but we’ll get you one of those, and the shirt and apron. Pants are just plain black. Docs are good; anything with support will do for shoes.” She started toward the back, giving the phones a swift glance. “I’ll just show you the back quick.”

She pointed at the blond guy. “That’s Tim. At the counter is Lisa.”

She walked back to behind the ovens where a harried looking young lady was frantically making pizzas. “This is Heather. Heather, Cameron. He’s going to do dishes.”

Heather looked at Cameron briefly, went back to her pizzas and then looked back again, eyes roving more slowly. “Cool.”

There was a man facing the back wall shoving dough into a machine. It came out oblong. He ran it through again and the dough was round.

Nina scooted past him. “That’s John.”

John turned. His eyes were bloodshot like he’d been smoking not too long ago, but he seemed to be working industriously. “Great, someone else to suck up hours.”

Nina rolled her eyes. “He’s real fun.” She showed Cameron the bathroom, then the walk-in fridge, then around to the sink. Beside it stood a pile of pizza pans almost as tall as he was.

There was a clank from the front and Cameron caught a glimpse of Tim dropping another pan in a growing stack. He gave Cameron a brief smile and gestured with the metal spatula at a table against the wall where an apron lay. “There’s a dishwasher apron in the bathroom that’s more heavy duty. Just gets hot. Up to you. It’s clean.”

“Hot enough already. Thanks.” Cameron shot Tim a look, half-searching and half-bitter. He already kind of hated him. Tim. What a fucking wholesome sounding name. He was probably a real nice boy.

If Cameron had learned anything, it was to mistrust nice boys. You thought they were your friend. That you could trust them. Be real.

Then they freaked out on you and threw you to the wolves.

Turning his back on Tim, Cameron beelined for the apron and pulled it on before rolling up his sleeves and remaking his ponytail at the base of his neck to keep the wild, wavy strands under control.

“Great. Ask Tim if you’ve got questions. Soap’s up top. Sprayer powers out most everything. Don’t burn yourself. Gotta get back to the phones.” Nina flashed him a smile as she patted his shoulder. “Get you to fill out the paperwork later so we can get you paid. I’ll show you the time cards too.”

If Tim was offended by the cold shouldering, he was too busy to show it. He turned to the ovens and got back to work. A radio played the college radio station. It wasn’t loud enough to be heard in the lobby; it was barely loud enough for Cameron to hear over the sprayer.

What he could hear was the rhythmic clank of metal on metal when Tim pulled out a pizza, signaled he was calling a name, and the thump of another pan dropping into the pile. He could also hear Tim calling a name pretty clearly, which was surprising, given how loud everything was. Pretty good projection. Probably a jerk.

Jerk with a good voice though. Strong. Clear.

Cameron couldn’t help being a little intrigued, especially when he glanced over at every call to see Tim moving nimbly around his station, his muscles stretching and bunching under his uniform shirt. He looked way better in it than he had any right to.

Clancy Nacht
Clancy Nacht is a bisexual genderqueer person who lives in Austin. Clancy has published several bestselling romances. Many of her books have been honored with Rainbow Awards; Le Jazz Hot won for Best Bisexual/Transgender Romance & Erotic Romance. In 2013, Black Gold: Double Black was a runner-up for a Rainbow Award. In 2015, Gemini won an Honorable Mention for Gay Erotic Romance and in 2016, Strange Times won an Honorable Mention for Science Fiction. Wyatt’s Recipes for Wooing Rock Stars was a finalist in the highly competitive William Neale Award for Best Gay Contemporary Romance. The Phisher King won second place in the Rainbow Award for Romantic Suspense, 16th for Gay Book of the Year.

Thursday Euclid
The Thursday Euclid is a strange and elusive creature dwelling in the Texas Gulf Coast region. Frequently mistaken for Bigfoot, Chupacabra, or the monster of the week, he is, in fact, a 30-something black sheep with a penchant for K-pop, geekery, and hot and sour soup. When he’s not playing Dragon Age or SWTOR, he’s probably watching B-movies or talking to his best friend and frequent collaborator Clancy Nacht. You can find him on Facebook, Twitter, or email him at thursdayeuclid at gmail dot com.


Clancy Nacht

Thursday Euclid
EMAIL: thursdayeuclid@gmail.com




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