⏳Throwback Thursday's Time Machine(Star Wars Week)⏳: Visions of the Future by Timothy Zahn

Summary:

Star Wars Legends: Hand of Thrawn #2

Hugo Award-winning author Timothy Zahn brings his epic two-volume series The Hand of Thrawn to an explosive conclusion with a discovery that rocks the New Republic to its foundations--and threatens to resurrect the Empire.

The Empire's master plan is under way. The New Republic is on the verge of civil war and the rumor that the legendary Admiral Thrawn has returned from the dead is rallying the Imperial forces. Now Luke Skywalker, Han Solo, Princess Leia, and their allies face the challenge of their lives. They must infiltrate a hidden fortress filled with Imperial fanatics, rendezvous with a double-dealing Imperial commander, and journey into enemy territory to learn the identity of those responsible for an act of unthinkable genocide. But most important of all is the truth about Thrawn. In his hands--alive or dead--rests the fate of the New Republic.

Features a bonus section following the novel that includes a primer on the Star Wars expanded universe, and over half a dozen excerpts from some of the most popular Star Wars books of the last thirty years!

Original Duology Blog Review January 2015:
It's been a few years since I read this duology but I absolutely loved it.  Not only is it written by, quite possibly in my opinion the best author of the Star Wars Extended Universe, Timothy Zahn but it features my second favorite character of the SW EU: Mara Jade.  I had been cheering and hoping for the romantic coupling of Luke Skywalker and Mara Jade from the first time she was introduced in Zahn's Heir to the Empire, and I was finally awarded when they declared their love during the heat of battle, of course because anything less would not have been fitting for Skywalker and Jade.  Throw in all the wonders that we come to love within the SW EU and you have perfect reading material.

Audiobook Duology Review April 2020:
Listening to the narration of The Hand of Thrawn duology was absolutely brilliant!  Don't get me wrong, I enjoy Disney's new timeline but to me they will always be non-canon and the original SWEU is canon.  Marc Thompson brings to life the characters I have loved for so long, nearly my whole life as I was only 4 when I first saw the original SW movie back in 1977 but he also brings a realistic flair to the new characters of the EU.  Mara Jade, Captain Pellaeon, Thrawn, Talon Kaarde, and so many others.  So if you are a SW fan and are intrigued to read(or hear) the original EU timeline, I highly recommend giving the Star Wars Legends books a go, I don't think you'll be disappointed.  I know I look forward to enjoying these over and over again in both book and audio version for years to come.

RATING:

The Imperial Star Destroyer Chimaera  slid through the black of space, its only companion the silent gas giant world of Pesitiin far below.

Admiral Pellaeon was standing at the forward viewport, gazing out at the dead planet, when Captain Ardiff arrived on the bridge. "Report from Major Harch, Admiral," he said briskly. "All damage from that pirate attack has been repaired. Your ship is back to full fighting readiness."

"Thank you, Captain," Pellaeon said, carefully hiding a smile. In the thirty hours since the failed attack on the Chimaera, Ardiff had gone from believing it to be a raid by New Republic General Garm Bel Iblis, to suspicions that it had been engineered by dissident Imperial elements, to similar suspicions involving similarly dissident Rebels, and was now apparently convinced that a pirate gang was responsible.

Of course, in all fairness, Ardiff had  had the past thirty hours to cogitate on his theories. The techs' preliminary report on the debris from that destroyed Kaloth battlecruiser had certainly influenced his thinking, too. "Anything new from the patrols?"  Pellaeon asked.

"Just more negatives, sir," Ardiff said. "Still no indications of activity anywhere in the system. Oh, and the sensor-stealthed assault shuttle you sent on the attackers' escape vector also just checked in. Still no trace."

Pellaeon nodded. As expected, really--anyone who could afford to buy and fly a battlecruiser usually knew a few tricks about hiding it. "It was worth a try," he told Ardiff. "Have them try one more system; we can transmit that far without relays. If they haven't picked up the trail by then, order them back."

"Yes, sir," Ardiff murmured.

Even without looking, Pellaeon could sense Ardiff's hesitation. "A question, Captain?"  he prompted.

"It's this communications blackout, sir," Ardiff said. "I don't like being so completely out of contact this way. It's like being blind and deaf; and frankly, it makes me nervous."

"I don't much like it myself," Pellaeon conceded. "But the only ways to make contact with the outside universe are to either transmit to an Imperial relay station or punch our way onto the HoloNet; and the minute we do either, everyone from Coruscant to Bastion will know we're here. If that happens, we'll have more than the occasional pirate gang lining up to take potshots at us."

And, he added silently, it would be the end of any chance for a quiet meeting between him and Bel Iblis. Assuming the general was indeed willing to talk.

"I understand all that, Admiral," Ardiff said. "But has it occurred to you that yesterday's attack might not have been an isolated incident against an isolated Imperial ship?"

Pellaeon cocked an eyebrow. "Are you suggesting it might have been part of a coordinated attack against the Empire?"

"Why not?"  Ardiff said. "I'm willing to concede at this point that it probably wasn't the New Republic who hired them. But why couldn't the pirates have set it up on their own?  The Empire has always come down hard on pirate gangs. Maybe a group of them got together and decided the time was right for revenge."

Pellaeon stroked his lip thoughtfully. On the surface, it was a ridiculous suggestion--even on its deathbed the Empire was far stronger than any possible aggregate of pirate gangs could hope to defeat. But that didn't mean they wouldn't be foolish enough to try. "That still leaves the question of how they knew we were here," he pointed out.

"We still don't know what happened to Colonel Vermel," Ardiff reminded him. "Maybe it was this pirate coalition who snatched him. He could have told them about Pesitiin."

"Not willingly," Pellaeon said darkly. "If they did what it would take to make him talk, I'll decorate Bastion's moon with their hides."

"Yes, sir," Ardiff said. "But that brings us back to the question of how long we're going to stay here."

Pellaeon looked out the viewport at the stars. Yes, that was indeed the question. How long should they wait here in the middle of nowhere in the hope that this slow attrition of the Empire could be stopped?  That they could end this war with the New Republic with a shred of territory and dignity still intact?

That they could finally have peace?

"Two weeks," he said. "We'll give Bel Iblis another two weeks to respond to our offer."

"Even though the message may not have reached him?"

"The message reached him," Pellaeon said firmly. "Vermel is a highly resourceful, highly competent officer. Whatever happened to him, I have no doubt he completed his mission first."

"Yes, sir," Ardiff said, his tone making it clear that he didn't share Pellaeon's confidence. "And if Bel Iblis doesn't come within that time frame?"

Pellaeon pursed his lips. "We'll decide then."

Ardiff hesitated, then took half a step closer to his superior. "You really believe this is our best hope, sir, don't you," he said quietly.

Pellaeon shook his head. "No, Captain," he murmured. "I believe it's our only hope."

The wedge of approaching Sienar IPV/4 patrol ships broke in perfect formation to both sides, and the Imperial Star Destroyer Relentless glided smoothly between the re-forming clusters toward its designated orbital position. "Very impressive," Moff Disra growled to the slim man beside him, hearing his heart pounding in his ears as he gazed across the bridge at the green-blue world framed in the forward viewport. "I trust you didn't haul me all the way out here just to watch the Kroctarian home defense force's maneuvers."

"Patience, Your Excellency," Major Grodin Tierce said quietly at his side. "I told you we had a surprise for you."

Disra felt his lip twist. Yes, that's what Tierce had said. And that was all Tierce had said. And as for Flim--

Disra shifted his gaze to the Admiral's chair, feeling his lip twist a little more. Their tame con man was sitting there, bold as bricbrass in his blue-skin makeup and glowing red eye surface inserts and his white Grand Admiral's uniform. The absolute laser-trimmed image of Grand Admiral Thrawn, a masquerade solidly believed by every Imperial aboard the Relentless from Captain Dorja on down.

Trouble was, there weren't any Imperials on the planet below them. Far from it. Kroctar, merchant center and capital of Shataum sector, was deep in New Republic territory, with every bit as much military firepower as one would expect such a world to have. There was no guarantee that any of them would be impressed by Flim's eyes and uniform and acting ability.

And if they weren't, this cozy little triumvirate Disra had formed was about to blow up in their faces. Flim might look like Thrawn, but he had all the tactical genius of a garbage-pit parasite. Tierce, a former stormtrooper and Royal Guardsman under Emperor Palpatine, was the military brains of their little group; and if Captain Dorja saw an allegedly lowly major rush over to the allegedly brilliant Grand Admiral to give him advice, this whole illusion would explode into soap scum. Whatever bluff Tierce was running here, it had better work.

"Transmission from the surface, Admiral," the comm officer called from the portside crew pit. "It's Lord Superior Bosmihi, chief of the Unified Factions."

"On speaker, Lieutenant," Thrawn said. "Lord Superior Bosmihi, this is Grand Admiral Thrawn. I received your message. What may I do for you?"

Disra frowned at Tierce. "They called us?"  he muttered.

Tierce nodded, a small but satisfied smile playing around his lips. "Shh," he said. "Listen."

"We offer you greeting, Grand Admiral Thrawn," a nasally alien voice boomed over the comm, "and we congratulate you most heartily on your triumphal return."

"Thank you," Thrawn said smoothly. "As I recall, you were somewhat less enthusiastic at our last meeting."

Disra threw Tierce a sharp look. "During his sweep through this sector ten years ago," Tierce murmured. "Don't worry, he knows all about it."

The alien gave a blubbering laugh. "Ah, yes--you remember most clearly," he admitted cheerfully. "At that time the fear of Imperial power and the lure of promised freedoms still held sway over us."

"Such lies held sway over many," Thrawn agreed. "Does your choice of words imply the Kroctari have come to a new understanding?"

There was a disgusting, wheezy-sounding noise from the comm. "We have seen the crumbling of the promise," the Lord Superior said regretfully. "There is no longer any order emanating from Coruscant; no focused goals, no clear structures, no discipline. A thousand different alien species tug the galaxy in a thousand different directions."

"Inevitably," Thrawn said. "That was why Emperor Palpatine first inaugurated the New Order. It was an attempt to reverse the collapse you now see coming."

"Yet we were also warned not to trust Imperial promises," Bosmihi hedged. "The history of the Empire is one of brutal subjugation of nonhuman species."

"You speak of the rule of Palpatine," Thrawn said. "The Empire has freed itself from his self-destructive anti-alien bias."

"Your presence in a place of command is some evidence of that," Bosmihi said cautiously. "Still, others still say the bias exists."

"Others still lie about the Empire in many ways," Thrawn countered. "But there's no need for you to take my word for it. Speak to any of the fifteen alien species currently living under Imperial rule, beings who cherish the protection and stability we offer."

"Yes--protection."  The Lord Superior seemed to pounce on the word. "The Empire is said to be weak; yet I perceive that you still have great strength. What guarantee of safety do you offer your member systems?"

"The best guarantee in the galaxy," Thrawn said; and even Disra felt a shiver run through him at the veiled power and menace that was suddenly in the con man's voice. "My personal promise of vengeance should anyone dare attack you."

There was a noise that sounded midway between a swallow and a burp. "I see," Bosmihi said soberly. "I understand that this is rather sudden, and for this I apologize; but on behalf of the Unified Factions of the Kroctari people, I would like to petition you for readmission into the Empire."

Disra looked at Tierce, feeling his jaw drop a few millimeters. "Readmission?"  he hissed.

Tierce smiled back. "Surprise, Your Excellency."

"On behalf of the Empire, I accept your petition," Thrawn said. "You no doubt have a delegation standing ready to discuss the details?"

"You understand my people well, Grand Admiral Thrawn," the Lord Superior said wryly. "Yes, my delegation does indeed await your pleasure."

"Then you may signal them to approach," Thrawn told him. "As it happens, Imperial Moff Disra is currently aboard the Relentless. As he is a specialist in political matters, he will handle the negotiations."

"We will be honored to meet with him," Bosmihi said. "Though I doubt his presence there is in any way the coincidence you imply. Thank you, Grand Admiral Thrawn; and until the meeting."

"Until the meeting, Lord Superior Bosmihi," Thrawn said.

He gestured to the crew pit. "Transmission ended, Admiral," the comm officer confirmed.

"Thank you," Thrawn said, rising almost leisurely from his command chair. "Signal TIE interceptors to stand ready for escort duty. They're to meet the Lord Superior's shuttle as soon as it clears atmosphere, flying in full honor formation. Captain Dorja, I'd like you to meet the shuttle personally and escort the delegation to Conference Room 68. Moff Disra will await you there."

"Understood, Admiral," Dorja said. He strode from the bridge, throwing Disra a tightly satisfied smile as he passed, and stepped into a waiting turbolift in the aft bridge. "You might have said something," Disra muttered to Tierce as the turbolift door closed behind the captain.

The Guardsman shrugged, a microscopic movement of the shoulders. "I wasn't absolutely sure this was what they wanted when they called," he said, gesturing Disra through the aft doors toward another turbolift. "But it seemed like a good guess. Kroctar has several potentially dangerous neighbors, and Intelligence reports the Unified Factions have become extremely disillusioned by Coruscant's inability to decide how tight a restraining bolt they want to keep on intersystem fighting."

They reached the turbolift and stepped into a waiting car. "Kroctar's the first," Tierce continued as the doors closed and they began to move. "But it won't be the last. We already have transmissions from twenty other systems whose governments would like Grand Admiral Thrawn to drop in for a chat."

Disra snorted. "All they're trying to do is shake up their enemies."

"Probably," Tierce agreed. "But what do we care why they want to rejoin?  The point is that they do, and it's going to send shock waves from here to Coruscant."

"Until Coruscant decides to take action."

"What action can they take?"  Tierce countered. "Their own charter specifically allows member systems to withdraw anytime they choose."

There was a beep from the turbolift comlink. "Moff Disra?"

"Yes?"

"There's a transmission coming in for you, Your Excellency, under a private encryption designated Usk-51."

Disra felt his stomach try to cramp. Of all the stupid, brainless--"Thank you," he said as calmly as he could manage. "Have it transferred to Conference Room 68, and make sure it's not monitored."

"Yes, Your Excellency."

Tierce was frowning at him. "That's not--?"

"It certainly is," Disra bit out. The turbolift doors opened--"Come on. And stay out of sight."

Two minutes later they were in the conference room with the door privacy-sealed behind them. Activating the comm display set into the center of the table, Disra pulled the proper encryption datacard from his collection and slid it into the slot. He keyed for reception--

"It's about time," Captain Zothip spat, his eyes flashing, his bushy blond beard bristling with anger. "Don't you think I've got better things to do than--?"

"What!"  Disra barked. Zothip's head jerked back, his own tirade breaking off midway in sudden confusion. "Do . . . you . . . think . . . you're . . . doing?"  Disra continued into the silence, biting out each word like the crack of a rotten snapstick. "How dare you take such an insane risk?"

"Never mind your precious image," Zothip growled, some of his insolence starting to come back. "If consorting with pirates is suddenly an embarrassment for you--"

"Embarrassment is not the issue here," Disra said icily. "I'm thinking about our two necks, and whether we get to keep them. Or hadn't you noticed how many relays there are in this transmission?"

"No kidding," Zothip said with a sniff. "And here I thought it was just your wonderful Imperial comm equipment kicking ions again. So where are you, out at your vacation home counting your money?"

"Hardly," Disra said. "I'm aboard an Imperial Star Destroyer."

Saturday Series Spotlight

Timothy Zahn
Timothy Zahn is the author of more than fifty novels, more than a hundred short stories and novelettes, and five short-fiction collections. In 1984, he won the Hugo Award for Best Novella. Zahn is best known for his Star Wars novels (Thrawn, Thrawn: Alliances, Heir to the Empire, Dark Force Rising, The Last Command, Specter of the Past, Vision of the Future, Survivor’s Quest, Outbound Flight, Allegiance, Choices of One, and Scoundrels), with more than eight million copies of his books in print. His other books include StarCraft: Evolution, the Cobra series, the Quadrail series, and the young adult Dragonback series. Zahn has a B.S. in physics from Michigan State University and an M.S. from the University of Illinois. He lives with his family on the Oregon coast.

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Visions of the Future #2

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Hand of Thrawn Duology

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Monday's Mysterious Mayhem(Star Wars Week): Shadow of the Empire by Steve Perry

Summary:

Star Wars Legends

Shadows of the Empire illuminates the shadowy outlines of a criminal conspiracy that exists in the background of the events in the movies, ruled by a character new to us. Prince Xizor is a mastermind of evil who dares to oppose one of the best-known fictional villains of all time: Darth Vader. The story involves all the featured Star Wars movie characters, plus Emperor Palpatine and, of course, Lord Vader himself.

Features a bonus section following the novel that includes a primer on the Star Wars expanded universe, and over half a dozen excerpts from some of the most popular Star Wars books of the last thirty years!

Re-Read & Audiobook Review April 2025:

I originally read Shadow of the Empire way back in 1996 when it was first released.  As much as I loved the then-canon expanded universe timeline it was a treat to go back to the time of the original trilogy.  I missed Han of course but seeing a story that filled in the gap between The Empire Strikes Back and Return of the Jedi was not only a treat but it had an echo of nostalgia about it(although at the time it had only been about 15 years since the films releasing😉).  I dug out my old abridged audiobook version and as the term states, it is a shortened version which is missing points that made the story brilliant but it was still an enjoyable return to a great entertaining gem.  Even with the shortened story, everything about Shadow came flooding back and to me that expresses the joy and excitement the book conjured up more than a lengthy review can.   Some see Prince Xizor as another Vader or Jabba but he isn't, sure there are elements there but Xizor is his own character that you won't soon forget. There is an unabridged version set to be released on June 3rd and I look forward to listening to it and enjoying the full story once again.

This is now part of the Essential Legends series which makes it non-canon in the Disney Star Wars Universe.  As I mention in all of these old stories, I personally see Disney's timeline as an alternate and Legends as canon but I love them all. However you choose to view them I still highly recommend reading Legends as there is never too much Star Wars for my liking, canon or alternate/multiverse, it's all aces in my book.

RATING:

He looks like a walking corpse, Xizor thought.  Like a mummified body dead a thousand years.  Amazing he is still alive, much less the most powerful man in the galaxy.  He isn't even that old; it is more as if something is slowly eating him.

Xizor stood four meters away from the Emperor, watching as the man who had long ago been Senator Palpatine moved to stand in the holocam field.  He imagined he could smell the decay in the Emperor's worn body.  Likely that was just some trick of the recycled air, run through dozens of filters to ensure that there was no chance of any poison gas being introduced into it. Filtered the life out of it, perhaps, giving it that dead smell.

The viewer on the other end of the holo-link would see a close-up of the Emperor's head and shoulders, of an age-ravaged face shrouded in the cowl of his dark zeyd-cloth robe.  The man on the other end of the transmission, light-years away, would not see Xizor, though Xizor would be able to see him.  It was a measure of the Emperor's trust that Xizor was allowed to be here while the conversation took place.

The man on the other end of the transmission—if he could still be called that—

The air swirled inside the Imperial chamber in front of the Emperor, coalesced, and blossomed into the image of a figure down on one knee.  A caped humanoid biped dressed in jet black, face hidden under a full helmet and breathing mask:

Darth Vader.

Vader spoke: "What is thy bidding, my master?"

If Xizor could have hurled a power bolt through time and space to strike Vader dead, he would have done it without blinking.  Wishful thinking: Vader was too powerful to attack directly.

"There is a great disturbance in the Force," the Emperor said.

"I have felt it," Vader said.

"We have a new enemy.  Luke Skywalker."

Skywalker? That had been Vader's name, a long time ago.  Who was this person with the same name, someone so powerful as to be worth a conversation between the Emperor and his most loathsome creation? More importantly, why had Xizor's agents not uncovered this before now? Xizor's ire was instant—but cold.  No sign of his surprise or anger would show on his imperturbable features.  The Falleen did not allow their emotions to burst forth as did many of the inferior species; no, the Falleen ancestry was not fur but scales, not mammalian but reptilian.  Not wild but coolly calculating.  Such was much better.  Much safer.

"Yes, my master," Vader continued.

"He could destroy us," the Emperor said.

Xizor's attention was riveted upon the Emperor and the holographic image of Vader kneeling on the deck of a ship far away.  Here was interesting news indeed.  Something the Emperor perceived as a danger to himself? Something the Emperor feared?

"He's just a boy," Vader said, "Obi-Wan can no longer help him."

Obi-Wan.  That name Xizor knew.  He was among the last of the Jedi Knights, a general.  But he'd been dead for decades, hadn't he?

Apparently Xizor's information was wrong if Obi-Wan had been helping someone who was still a boy.  His agents were going to be sorry.

Even as Xizor took in the distant image of Vader and the nearness of the Emperor, even as he was aware of the luxury of the Emperor's private and protected chamber at the core of the giant pyramidal palace, he was also able to make a mental note to himself: Somebody's head would roll for the failure to make him aware of all this.  Knowledge was power; lack of knowledge was weakness.  This was something he could not permit.

The Emperor continued.  "The Force is strong with him.  The son of Skywalker must not become a Jedi."

Son of Skywalker?

Vader's son! Amazing!

"If he could be turned he would become a powerful ally," Vader said.

There was something in Vader's voice when he said this, something Xizor could not quite put his finger on.  Longing? Worry?

Hope?

"Yes...yes.  He would be a great asset," the Emperor said.  "Can it be done?"

There was the briefest of pauses.  "He will join us or die, Master."

Xizor felt the smile, though he did not allow it to show any more than he had allowed his anger play.  Ah.  Vader wanted Skywalker alive, that was what had been in his tone.  Yes, he had said that the boy would join them or die, but this latter part was obviously meant only to placate the Emperor.  Vader had no intention of killing Skywalker, his own son; that was obvious to one as skilled in reading voices as was Xizor.  He had not gotten to be the Dark Prince, Underlord of Black Sun, the largest criminal organization in the galaxy, merely on his formidable good looks.  Xizor didn't truly understand the Force that sustained the Emperor and made him and Vader so powerful, save to know that it certainly worked somehow.  But he did know that it was something the extinct Jedi had supposedly mastered.  And now, apparently, this new player had tapped into it.  Vader wanted Skywalker alive, had practically promised the Emperor that he would deliver him alive—and converted.

This was most interesting.

Most interesting indeed.

The Emperor finished his communication and turned back to face him.  "Now, where were we, Prince Xizor?"

The Dark Prince smiled.  He would attend to the business at hand, but he would not forget the name of Luke Skywalker.

Steve Perry

Steven Carl Perry has written over fifty novels and numerous short stories, which have appeared in various magazines and anthologies. Perry is perhaps best known for the Matador series. He has written books in the Star Wars, Alien and Conan universes. He was a collaborator on all of the Tom Clancy's Net Force series, seven of which have appeared on the New York Times Bestseller list. Two of his novelizations, Star Wars: Shadows of the Empire and Men in Black have also been bestsellers. Other writing credits include articles, reviews, and essays, animated teleplays, and some unproduced movie scripts. One of his scripts for Batman: The Animated Series was an Emmy Award nominee for Outstanding Writing.

Perry is a member of the Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers of America, The Animation Guild, and the Writers Guild of America, West.

Steve Perry

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👀An unabridged audio version is set to be released on 6/3👀

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🎭Week at a Glance🎭: 4/21/25 - 4/27/25

Monday's Mystical Magic: The Orc and the Manny by Chloe Archer

⏳Throwback Thursday's Time Machine⏳: Understanding Jeremy by AM Arthur

📘🎥Friday's Film Adaptation🎥📘: 4:50 From Paddington by Agatha Christie

Saturday's Series Spotlight: Food Truck Warriors by Beth Bolden Part 1

Sunday's Safe Word Shelf: What He Craves by EM Denning

Sunday's Safe Word Shelf: What He Craves by EM Denning

Summary:

Desires #2

Matt Simpson is notorious for his bad decisions. From his rocky teenage years to his tumultuous early twenties, he's made a lot of mistakes. His latest, greatest, and perhaps stupidest of them all was his recent pursuit of his boss, the unattainable Steve Paulson. Desperate to make the man notice him, and knowing Steve would never get involved with an employee, Matt quits his job.

Unfortunately, Steve still won’t touch him. To make matters worse, his new job falls through and his older brother won’t hire him. Matt can’t bear to ask Steve for help, and soon he finds himself out of money and out of options. When Steve finds him living in his car and demands that he go home with him, Matt obeys, but living with the man he's wanted for two years proves to be frustrating as well as explosively hot. As Matt begins to explore his submissive side under Steve's firm guidance, his insecurities haunt him. What does a homeless, jobless kid with a string of failures behind him have to offer, even if Steve did want him for more than a brief fling?

Please note, this book was previously published. The content remains unchanged. If you already own it, it's not necessary to repurchase.

1 

Matt 

Okay. Okay. Maybe he wasn’t totally fucked. Cam had to hire him back. Sure, he absolutely loathed working for his brother, but Cam would have to give him a job. He couldn’t tell Cam that he’d quit his job at the restaurant in a fit of jealous rage because people flirted with Steve and he flirted back, and Matt had tried for two years to make Steve notice him, but he wouldn’t of course, because Steve, the honorable shit, didn’t fuck his employees. Matt forced himself to take a deep breath. Breathe. He had to remember to breathe. He had to be cool. 

He’d had another job lined up, he thought. He showed up a few days ago, ready to work. They’d told him he could start that day, but a manager came out and informed him that he’d given someone else the position before Matt got hired. His assistant manager somehow screwed up. Matt didn’t have a job after all. 

That only left Cam. 

Matt wiped his sweaty palms down his jeans and sauntered up to the shop. Cam inherited the garage from their dad when he died, and he’d done a great job turning it around. He’d totally revamped the poor reputation their dad had left behind, and business had been steady for a while now. Cam would have no problem hiring him back. Cam had to hire him back. By rights, the shop should have been half Matt’s, but their homophobic asshole father had written Matt out of the will. Cam got everything and most times it didn’t bother him because Cam always did his best to look out for Matt. 

The bells above the door jingled when Matt pulled the door open. Suzie looked up from her spot at the front desk. He remembered the first time they’d met, and she asked him on a date. Turning down a sweet girl like her had been hell, but, well, wrong equipment. If he wasn’t mistaken, she’d since turned her affections toward Cam, who probably had the same shit rule Steve did about not getting involved with employees. Some guys are no fun at all. 

“Hey, Suzie. Cam in the office?” 

She nodded. “He’s in a bit of a shit mood today, so be careful.” 

“What’s going on?” Cam had always been easy going and laid back. But everything he did had been organized and calculated and well planned. Basically, he was the opposite of Matt. 

“Something about a supplier overcharging for stuff. Shipping delays on top of that which makes him have to readjust when people get their cars back.” Suzie shrugged. “It’s been a rough week.” 

Well shit. This wasn’t good. Matt took a deep breath and tried not to climb the walls. “Thanks for the heads up.” The walk down the short hallway to Cam’s office felt like the march of death. Matt wiped his sweaty hands on his jeans, again, and wondered if his life would flash before his eyes. Death might be welcome at this point, Matt thought as the knot of anxiety in his stomach turned into a boulder. 

He knocked lightly then entered the office. Cam had the phone pressed to his ear, as luck would have it, he seemed to be talking with the parts supplier to find out what the hold up was. Matt sat in one of the two chairs across from Cam’s desk and folded his hands in his lap. He hated coming to Cam begging for a job like a stupid kid, but maybe he was. He’d quit his job so he could have a chance at boning Steve. That wasn’t something a normal twenty-five-year-old did, was it? But Matt had never been normal. He’d always did stupid shit before he thought it through. It’s how he’d always been. Sometimes it worked out, and other times he ended up here, in Cam’s office. 

Cam had ended the call without Matt noticing because he’d been silently freaking out. 

“Matt.” Cam spoke, and Matt snapped out of his doom spiral, sort of. At least enough to pay attention to what Cam was saying. “What brings you by?” Cam’s tight voice had and edge to it that indicated Cam knew what was coming. 

“I got laid off. I need a job, Cam.” Totally not the truth, but Matt couldn’t tell Cam the truth. 

Cam shook his head and raked a hand through his thick blonde hair. “Matt. Come on, man. I thought we went over this.” 

Matt’s already rampant heart kicked it up a notch and the boulder of anxiety in his stomach spread out to each limb. “Cam, please. I got laid off. It’s not my fault. Just for a few months. I’ll find a new job. Please.” 

Cam shook his head. 

Shit. 

Fuck. 

Shitcrapmotherfuckingfucknononononono. 

“Matt. No. I’m sorry. There’s unemployment. You have enough hours banked to qualify, and you were laid off. You’ll have no problem getting it. I’m sorry. I love the shit out of you, but you know you can’t work here. You need to stand on your own two feet.”

Matt nodded and tried to swallow past the giant lump in his throat. “Yeah. Fine. Okay. Uh…I should go do that then.” Matt got up and left before Cam could say anything else. Unemployment. Yeah. Okay. Easy, right? Except the record of employment in his pocket that he’d grabbed with his last check clearly stated that Matt hadn’t been laid off. Still, there might be a chance. 

As Matt pulled out of the parking lot, he looked back and saw Cam in the doorway of the shop, watching him go. Fucking Cam. He got it. Matt understood that Cam had bailed him out of every scrape, jam, and fucked up situation he’d dug himself into since kindergarten. His argument that Matt needed to live an adult life and fix his own mistakes had been a compelling one. That didn’t make him hate Cam any less for sticking with it this time. 

Matt let out a shaky breath and drove to the unemployment office. Maybe Cam had been right. At some point, Matt had to start cleaning up his own messes and fixing his own mistakes. At twenty-five years old, Matt had to stop being a fuck-up. 

With his unemployment application sent off Matt could concentrate getting ready for the grand opening of Steve’s new club. A club he should’ve been working at. Matt shoved those thoughts aside and got ready. 

He pulled on a pair of shorts that probably didn’t quite fit, and that’s what made them his absolute favorite. The shiny red shorts hugged his ass and showed off his entire package. It would be impossible for Steve to ignore him. In the mood for a bit of fun, Matt impulsively slathered himself with some glittery body lotion. He twisted and turned in the full-length mirror. He gave his ass a playful swat. Perfection. 

Dinner time had come and gone, and Matt hadn’t eaten. He should’ve taken the time to whip something up in his little kitchen (aka his hot plate and toaster oven) before he went to the club, but he wasn’t hungry. His nervous stomach knotted. It filled with butterflies and what-ifs. When it was finally time to leave he didn’t want to trudge down the street in nothing but his tiny shorts. He slid into a pair of track pants and pulled a T-shirt on over top. On his way out the door he grabbed a jacket. 

The club was in full swing when Matt arrived. A jolt of nerves had him considering slipping in the back through the employees' entrance, but he didn’t want Steve to see him go in that way. He wanted Steve to see him walk in the front doors like any other patron. Cam might not have hired him, and it may not have gone entirely well with the unemployment office, but this was his big moment. Everything would be worth it soon. 

Stripped down to only his bright red shorts, Matt took a deep breath. He stepped into the club with his head held high and a smile far brighter and more confident than he felt. Like the magnet that he was, Matt’s gaze found Steve in the room almost immediately. He was tall and broad and commanding. Matt took a breath, adjusted his package, not caring who saw him, because, hello, kink club. 

Even from across the room Matt saw something flare in Steve’s gaze. Lust? Want? Need? Did Steve crave him the way he craved Steve? Matt drifted toward him, weaving through the crowd. Each step brought him closer to Steve, who couldn’t seem to take his eyes off Matt. His dick twitched—that had to be a good sign, right? For the first time since Matt quit he felt as if he’d made the right decision. 

“Steve.” Matt tried to sound more casual than he felt as he stood both too close and not close enough. “The place looks great.” 

Hope flared in Matt as Steve’s gaze raked over his scantily clad body. 

“Are you covered in glitter?” Steve raised an eyebrow.

Matt smirked. It was cocky and in that moment, so was he. He reached for Steve, slid a finger down the center of his shirt. “Play your cards right and you could be covered in glitter, too.” 

Heat and lust flashed in Steve’s eyes and for a fraction of a second, he looked at Matt, truly looked at him and saw him. Then the mask fell back into place and Matt’s heart shuddered to a stop. 

No. 

Steve took a step back. “Make sure you grab some food before you go. It’s on the house tonight, Matt.” Then he took a step back, but the sudden distance felt like miles, oceans, light-years. Whatever the unit of measure, Matt felt as if his chest would cave in under the weight of disappointment. 

“Steve, I…” 

“Have a good night, Matt.” 

Steve spun on his heel and walked away. Dismissed, Matt stood there for a moment, dumbfounded. How had everything gone so wrong so fast? He’d come on a little strong. Maybe that had been where he went wrong. Maybe the short-shorts and the body glitter and the blatant flirting were too much. Steve owned a kink club. It was Matt’s wet-dream come true, but maybe he’d fucked this all up. He should’ve stayed working for Steve. He could’ve come here and seen what Steve liked and he could’ve been that. 

Ice swept over Matt and before he knew exactly how he got there, he stood on the street in his T-shirt and track pants. He walked home with his arms wrapped around himself. Every so often he paused to rub his chest as if he could ease the ache somehow. He’d been rejected before, but this hurt. He’d lusted after and been in love with Steve for as long as he’d known the man. Okay, so it started out as lust, and he didn’t know Steve that well, but yeah, he loved him. He loved the way he commanded a room. He loved the way all his staff loved him and respected him.

Matt entered his apartment. It wasn’t much. A dingy room in an old hotel. A tiny kitchenette sat next to an equally tiny bathroom. The rest of the space stood open. His bed also served as his couch. His dresser doubled as his TV stand. The small, dim space could use a paint job, but the rent was affordable, and it was his. It was the first place he ever had all on his own. If he didn’t have a massive pile of credit card debt, he’d be able to afford something way nicer. Matt curled up in his bed and didn’t move for three days. 

Three weeks later after the most depressing search for employment he’d ever been on, he came home to a letter from the unemployment office. Declined. He’d quit his job and therefore they decided he didn’t qualify. 

The paper trembled in Matt’s hands and he sunk down into his bed. He scrubbed at his face with his hands. Matt’s impulsive decisions had landed him in yet another impossible situation. Cam refused to hire him. He absolutely couldn’t go back and beg Steve for a job. He’d quit with hardly any notice. He’d told Steve he found a better job and wanted to move on. Steve would’ve filled the position by now and Matt didn’t want to risk Steve having to make a choice between him and a new hire. It wouldn’t be fair. Besides, Matt didn’t think he could face Steve ever again. 

Already strapped for cash after making the minimum payments on his credit cards, Matt packed what he could into his car. Doom swirled in Matt’s stomach as he dropped his keys in the landlord's mailbox. The key hit the bottom of the mailbox with a hollow ping that ricocheted through Matt. He’d hoped to escape eviction by lucking out and getting unemployment. 

One month after quitting his job, Matt parked at the far end of a grocery store parking lot. He wrapped himself in a blanket and tried to reconcile himself to the fact that he officially lived in his car. He spent his first night homeless not sleeping. Cam’s words from the last time kept circling around and around in his head. You fucked up again, Matty. I can’t believe this. You never think do you? Ever. Shit. Dammit. Fine, you can work here, but this is the last time I bail you out, do you understand? You’re twenty-two, Matty. You’re an adult. Start acting like one. 

The next morning Matt parked his car in a different spot and spent the day looking for work. The day ended up being the same as every other day he looked for work in the past month. Not hiring. Not hiring. Not hiring. We’ll keep your application on file. Thanks for stopping by. Not hiring. Not hiring. Not hiring. 

His second night on the streets, Matt cried himself to sleep.

Saturday's Series Spotlight

Desires

Part 1  /  Part 2

Sunday's Safe Word Shelf

Desires: New Beginnings

He Learns  /  He Finds  /  They Deserve

EM Denning

E. M. Denning is a writer from British Columbia. She loves her family and animals, and anything cute and fuzzy. She writes romance for the 18+ plus crowd because she's both a hopeless romantic and a dirty old woman.

You can find her on her website, Facebook or on her blog.

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What He Craves #2

AMAZON US  /  AMAZON UK  /  GOODREADS TBR

Desires Series

AMAZON US  /  AMAZON UK  /  GOODREADS TBR

Desires: New Beginnings Series

AMAZON US  /  AMAZON UK  /  GOODREADS TBR