Release Date: September 21, 2015
Pages or Words: 272 pages, 104,000 words
Categories: Contemporary, Erotica,
Gay Fiction, M/M Romance, Romance
Publisher: Dreamspinner Press
Cover Artist: Paul Richmond Photo: Dave Ouano
It’s taken Tommy Newsome a while to get his head around being gay.
Growing up in a small town in Georgia, hasn’t prepared him for the more liberal life of a student at the university in Athens. Add to that the teachings of his parents and his church, and you have one shy young man who feels out of his depth. Working on his daddy’s farm hasn’t given him any chance of a social life, certainly not one like the clubs of Atlanta have on offer. Not that Tommy feels comfortable when he gets to sample it—Momma’s lectures still ring loudly inside his head.
All that changes when he goes to his first gay bar and sets eyes on Mike Scott.
When Mike’s not behind the bar at Woofs, he’s busy with his life as adult entertainer Scott Masters. Twenty years in the industry and the times, they are a-changing. Mike’s not had much luck in the relationship department, but as his mom is fond of telling him, you keep fishing in the same pond, you’re gonna reel in the same kind of fish. Maybe it’s time for a change.
And then a beautiful young man asks Mike to be his first….
“I see your stalker’s here again.”
“Huh?” Mike frowned. “What are you talking about now, Kev?” He concentrated on the drink order for Dave and his friends over in the corner.
Kevin grinned and flicked his head toward the rear of the bar. “You know exactly who I’m talking ’bout. Mr. Cutie Pie over there with the muscles. Y’know, the one who’s been sitting on that barstool every Saturday night for the last five weeks?” He arched his eyebrows. “Don’t give me that ‘butter wouldn’t melt’ act. I seen you looking.” His grin widened. “G’on, tell me I’m wrong.”
Mike wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction. “You’re wrong,” he stated emphatically.
Kevin stared. “Hell, you’re a poor liar.” Then his eyes gleamed. “In that case, you can take him his burger, tater tots, and Cherry Coke. Maybe you could even get him to say a few words beyond ‘Hey.’ ’Cause I swear that’s all I’ve ever heard out of that pretty little mouth of his.”
Mike snickered. “I think if I spoke to him, he’d piss his pants.”
Kevin guffawed and went off to the back of the bar. Inside Mike was cursing himself. He’d been careful not to glance too openly at the guy. Those queens he worked with were too damn good at spotting when one of them was taking an interest in a customer. And fuck it, he was interested in the painfully shy but so sexy young man who hadn’t said a word.
“And then there’s the fact that every time he comes in here,” Kevin continued, appearing beside him as if there hadn’t been a break in conversation, “I watch him look 'round the bar ’til he sees you.” That grin was still in place.
“Are you still going on about him?” Mike demanded. “Sure you’re not the one here who’s fixating?”
Kevin held up his hands. “I just call it like I see it. I think he’s only here to ogle you.”
“Well, he’s gonna be disappointed if he turns up in a couple week’s time, isn’t he, ’cause I won’t be here.”
Kevin’s brow furrowed. “Since when do you not work on weekends?”
“Since I’ll be in LA, that’s when.” Mike returned his grin. “Remember?”
“Oh, yeah, you’ve got a shoot. I’d clean forgotten.” He faked a sad face. “Aw, how you gonna cope without seeing that gorgeous bod?” He leered. “Then again, don’t worry your head about it. I’m sure me or Patrick can take care of him.” He waggled his eyebrows.
Mike groaned. “For fuck’s sake, just leave the kid alone, okay? He’s not hurting anyone.” Mike had seen enough to know the guy wasn’t going to be a problem. He preferred this quiet observation to the occasional gropings of fans when he made appearances at Hustlaball or Southern Decadence. The kid appeared to have good manners.
“Here’s his order.” Kevin handed him the tray containing the Angus burger, tater tots, and Cherry Coke. “I’m sure he’ll be delighted to get it from you.” That shit-eating grin just wouldn’t quit.
Mike shook his head and took the tray. He walked over to where the young guy sat, his eyes widening as Mike approached. “Here you go,” Mike said cheerfully, setting the food down in front of him.
The young guy blushed furiously. “Th-thanks.” He lowered his gaze and commenced picking at his tots.
Mike retreated to a safe distance and watched him while he ate. He liked the look of those wide shoulders, the reddish-brown hair, not too short, the barest hint of scruff on his jawline and those striking green eyes. His skin was creamy where it showed, which spoke of a lot of time spent covered up. With his coloring, that was understandable. But that body was speaking even louder to Mike’s dick, which was definitely interested, judging by the way it filled as he feasted on the delectable view before him.
His attention was forcibly drawn away when someone pinched his ass, good and hard.
“You are so busted.”
Born and raised in the north-west of England, K.C. WELLS always loved writing. Words were important. Full stop. However, when childhood gave way to adulthood, the writing ceased, as life got in the way. K.C. discovered erotic fiction in 2009, when the purchase of a ménage storyline led to the startling discovery that reading about men in love was damn hot. In 2012, arriving at a really low point in life led to the desperate need to do something creative. An even bigger discovery waited in the wings—writing about men in love was even hotter….
K.C. now writes full-time and is loving every minute of her new career. The laptop still has no idea of what hit it… it only knows that it wants a rest, please. And it now has to get used to the idea that where K.C goes, it goes.
And as for those men in love that she writes about? The list of stories just waiting to be written is getting longer… and longer….
September 20, 2015
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