A lonely rock star who
walked away from everything.
What chance do they
have at love?
Blurb
Ripped apart by life, Lich Reaper Grymington Daray is
drowning in sorrow. Each day, he strives to find the people responsible for killing his best
friend, and he wishes his own existence had more meaning. The last thing on Grymington’s
mind is finding the other half of his soul. While a loving family surrounds him, the coldness
growing in his heart keeps him separated from joy.
Decades ago, Devlin Nero ran away from the world. Being a
rock star was everything Devlin wanted, but it turned into a nightmare. Now, the enchanter-
human hybrid is living alone and surrounded by nothing but fading memories. Desperate for
happiness, Devlin makes his way to the Council of Sorcery and Shifters and winds up at a
sanctuary designed for freaks like him.
On a fateful day, Grymington and Devlin discover they are
mates. Sparks fly, and the two men venture forth to honor Fate’s choice for them. However,
Grymington is too lost and much too fearful to allow Devlin near his tattered soul. Devlin
wants love, but the Lich Reaper may not be able to offer it. If their confusing relationship
isn’t enough, they have pasts to reconcile, and the future will not wait. It will be up to
Grymington and Devlin to discover if they have a matebond worth saving.
Excerpt
“You still play and sing?” Grymington asked.
“Every day. Music is me, and I love composing words,
writing melodies, and crafting beautiful songs. But trust me…I don’t deserve to be standing
on a stage to cheers while I belt out a tune. My decision to leave my career wasn’t fair, and I
hurt people, including someone I loved. It ruined everything she worked for, and I still lack
the courage to do anything about it. That’s probably not the best thing to tell the person
you’re hoping to build a matebond with, but I’ve learned the value of honesty, and I won’t lie
to you about the kind of person I was or am.”
“I wasn’t resurrected yet in 1998 when you left, but I’m
going to download your music after I get home.”
“You’ll have to let me know what you think.”
“I will. I guess you don’t miss it,” Grymington said. His dog
ventured over to lie across his sneakered feet.
“Who wouldn’t miss having fans? I enjoyed that part, but
I’m good without having any of the rest of it in my life.”
“If you’re not a rock star, what are you going to do now that
you don’t have to hide?” Grymington asked.
Devlin shrugged. “I haven’t figured that out yet. I haven’t
been a D’Vaire that long, and now I have a matebond to focus on. I’m in no rush to decide
anything. Taking things a day at a time is far less intimidating than trying to structure my
entire life.”
“I do that too,” Grymington confided softly. “It is definitely
easier if I focus on a single day at a time.”
“I hope it’s one of many things we find we have in
common.”
They fell silent again, and Devlin studied the sexy man
sitting several feet away. There was something about Grymington’s pert nose and his perfect
heart-shaped mouth that brought out a visceral reaction from Devlin. Cute men had always
been his downfall, and Grymington had no match. The desire to taste Grymington was so
intense, Devlin went with instinct, though he acknowledged he was probably being led by
his dick.
“I’d love to kiss you,” Devlin murmured.
Grymington’s pale citrine-colored gaze widened for a
second, then a rush of euphoria rushed through Devlin as the reaper scooted closer to him.
“I haven’t been kissed before,” Grymington offered
apologetically.
The grin Devlin gave him was wolfish. “I know.”
Because he had to touch those messy curls, Devlin lifted a
hand and tangled his fingers in the soft blond twists. Grymington titled his head so their eyes
met fully, and Devlin swore the faint smell of lilies bewitched him.
Since he was worried that the spell could break at any
moment, Devlin leaned forward and pressed his lips to Grymington’s. The reaper lacked
experience, but Grymington had initiative. Grymington’s mouth parted, and Devlin wasn’t
foolish enough to ignore the invitation. Their tongues touched, and Devlin nearly
moaned.
His scent was elusive, but Grymington’s taste was
intoxicating. The way Grymington copied each thing Devlin did was a lovely reminder of his
innocence. It brought out a tender side of Devlin he hadn’t known existed as he carefully
explored Grymington. Devlin rested his free hand on Grymington’s waist and stifled the urge
to crush the reaper in his arms.
Ever so gently, Devlin coaxed Grymington into tipping his
head slightly, and it took their kiss to an entirely new level. With nothing but the simplest of
touches, Devlin grew hard, yet he was in no rush to devour Grymington. It would be an insult
not to savor him, and Devlin refused to squander such an opportunity.
Instead, Devlin used his many years of practice to please
Grymington. Devlin teased, tormented, and nibbled Grymington’s lips. When he finally lifted
his head, Devlin was outrageously pleased by the desire swimming in Grymington’s
gaze.
“You’re a beautiful kisser, Grym,” Devlin murmured.
“Thank you, so are you,” Grymington replied. “I’d like to kiss
you again.”
Since only a fool would tell Grymington no, Devlin smiled at
him and dove in for another taste.
About the Author
Jessamyn Kingley lives in
Nevada where she begs the men in her head to tell her their amazing stories which she
dutifully writes it all down in what has become a small mountain of notebooks. She falls in
love with each couple and swears whatever book she wrote last is her absolute
favorite.
Jessamyn is married and
working toward remembering to start the dishwasher without being distracted by the scent
of the magical detergent. For personal enjoyment, she aids in cat rescue while slashing and
gashing her way through mobs in various MMORPGs. Caffeine is her very best friend and is
only cast aside briefly for the sin better known as BBQ potato chips.
Getting involved with a
mafia don was a horrible idea. Falling in love with one was worse.
Blurb
Detective Micah Hart wasn’t sure when his fairly safe,
predictable life became something more closely resembling a dumpster fire.
But if he had to pinpoint an exact moment, he would say it
was the first time he went undercover as a prostitute in an attempt to bait the notorious
serial killer that was stalking New York City’s streets – the media-dubbed Hooker
Hunter.
It’s when Damon Romano plows into his life, with his fierce
protective energy, and those thick thighs, and the bluest pair of eyes Micah has ever seen.
If only he wasn’t also a temperamental mafioso in charge of
running one of the city’s largest criminal empires.
Damon fixates on Micah, obsessing over feeding him and
making sure he always has a coat. He spoils him rotten with gifts and insists on taking Micah
on as his personal escort – a “boyfriend” to get his nagging sisters off his back.
It’s weirdly sweet, and Micah doesn’t know how he’s
become a soft spot in the ruthless man’s otherwise hardened exterior, but it would be a lie
to say he didn’t want even more: a
real relationship with Damon.
There was just one teensy, tiny problem with that.
Despite what Damon thinks, Micah isn’t actually a prostitute.
He’s a cop for the NYPD.
Pretty Policeman is an M/M billionaire mafia romance, sprinkled liberally with rom-
com elements, served with a side helping of sugar daddy kink and mistaken identity trope.
Excerpt
“Quit staring.”
“I’m not.”
“Oh, you are, honey, and I don’t blame you. Those
shoulders go on for dayzzz.”
“I feel like you said that with a ‘z’. Possibly multiple of
them.”
“Oh, I did, sweet pea. And that ass. I have one word for it:
yum.”
“You literally sound like you’re drooling. Are you sure you’re
not the one who’s been staring, Tessa?”
“Of course, I have been!” She didn’t sound the least bit
ashamed about it either. “Look at that gorgeous specimen of a man. If he’s not the offspring
of some Greek god’s bastard, I will chop off my right tit.”
He wrinkled his nose. “Gross.”
Even as he pretended to gag over his partner’s declaration,
however, Micah found his gaze – and attention – drifting back to the man they were
discussing: the supposed descendent of a Greek god.
He was tall, at least a couple of inches past six feet, and the
suit jacket he was wearing clung to the expanse of his impressively broad shoulders. Said
shoulders tapered off to form a trim waist, under which matching pinstripe pants gripped
onto thick thighs – which Micah hadn’t known he had a thing for until now.
Seriously, even from a distance, Micah knew those things
had to be ripped. The man’s entire body looked rock-solid. Micah couldn’t quite make out
any facial features, but if there was any justice in the world, the man must have had the
epitome of a butter-face.
Still, Micah could probably look past it, considering, as
Tessa had so eloquently put it: “that ass”.
“Micah,” Tessa hissed into his earpiece. (Speak of the devil.)
“I said to quit. You’re not even trying to hide your ogling now.”
“You also said to look,” he couldn’t help but point out, but
he obediently dropped his gaze to the ground, anyway. He was wearing a pair of shabby red
Converse. There were holes on the top of the right one where his toes threatened to peek
out, and the left had a loose outsole that liked to flap when he walked.
Not exactly his usual style, but it wasn’t like Micah had
picked them out himself. In fact, he hadn’t picked out any part of his current ensemble.
“I meant metaphorically. You’re in the middle of an
undercover operation. You can’t let yourself be distracted by every hottie that walks by; you
need to keep your wits about you.”
Okay, first of all, that wasn’t just any hottie. Secondly-
“You’re my handler,” he pointed out. “You need to keep
your wits about you.”
“Oh, you don’t worry about my wits, honey. I’m not the one
that’s thirsting after some babelicious stranger, completely ignoring the potential john
coming in at three o’clock.”
Micah tensed, subtly peeking in the direction she’d
indicated.
Tessa was right.
A man dressed in a cheap suit was quickly approaching, the
graying hair near his temples and the deep-set wrinkles of his brow indicating he was
probably in his late forties or early fifties. His uneven gait and the stumble in his step meant
he was probably drunk.
Micah tried not to grimace as the man got closer and he
spotted the wedding band on his finger. The guy didn’t really fit the profile they’d come up
with for their perp – he was too old and looked to be married to boot.
Most likely, he was just another asshole going through a
midlife crisis – not the serial killer going around killing male prostitutes they were searching
for.
Micah voiced his thoughts aloud, muttering lowly into the
mic hidden in his shirt – if the obscene, canary yellow crop top he was wearing could even
be considered a shirt. “I doubt he’s our guy, Tess. Too sloppy.”
“Probably not,” the woman agreed, “but you never know.
You of all people should know that looks can be deceiving. Let him pick you up. If nothing
else, you’ll be able to arrest him for solicitation.”
Resigning himself to do as she suggested, Micah let himself
sink into the brick wall he was lounging against near the mouth of an alley. He winced as the
brick scratched against his exposed lower back where his shirt didn’t quite cover the skin,
but he forced himself to school his expression as the man moved closer.
Honestly, he hadn’t expected to be picked up within the
first fifteen minutes of his shift.
“How much?”
Apparently, Mr. Midlife Crisis wasn’t one for small talk.
Which was unfortunate because Micah needed him to actually say the words. “How much
for what?” he asked.
“Don’t be coy, you little tart.” Micah fought the urge to
wrinkle his nose when the man took another step forward and the stench of alcohol hit him
straight in the face.
He wasn’t intimidated – or, at least, that was what he told
himself when arms braced themselves on either side of his head, effectively trapping Micah
against the brick wall. Sure, he didn’t have his Glock, but Tessa was watching out for him.
Not to mention the fact that he was well-versed in hand-to-hand if worse came to worst.
“$100,” Micah said, knowing he was highballing the man
even before his bloodshot eyes widened in disbelief.
“$100?” he repeated, scoffing. “For a loose hole like yours?
I’ll give you $50 if you can even make me bust my nut.”
This. douchebag.
Micah had planned on just wrangling the man’s hands
behind his back and arresting him as soon as he’d said enough to incriminate himself, but
now he was pissed.
“Oh, I’m sorry, I thought you were asking after my mouth,”
he retorted. “If you want a piece of the filet mignon, the going rate’s 300 bucks.”
He heard Tessa sigh into his earpiece, and judging by the
dull thud that followed, could perfectly picture her banging her head against the steering
wheel of the undercover van she was parked in across the street.
“300 bucks?” Mr. Midlife Crisis sneered. “Who do you think
you are? Sluts like you are hardly worth the time it takes for you to get me off.”
“You’re the one who approached me, buddy,” Micah
reminded him. “Must be worth something.”
Admittedly, he wasn’t expecting for the guy to take him by
the hair, backpedal him into the alley, and smash his head against the wall. The hit wasn’t
hard enough to make his ears ring, but Micah’s eyes watered involuntarily when the man’s
grip on his hair tightened, and he leaned his face into his personal space. “How about this,
you little bitch? Since your ass is apparently off limits, why don’t you get on your knees so I
can show you how you ought to be treating your customers with that smart mouth?
Consider it a free lesson. If you manage to bring me to finish, I’ll even think about leaving a
tip.”
Alright, play time was over.
This guy was more than just your typical drunkard looking
to pick up a hooker – he clearly didn’t give a rat’s ass whether Micah was willing to blow him
or not, he was going to make him. The fact that there were real people out there working
the streets and being treated this way – probably pretty regularly – made anger burn hot in
Micah’s gut. He was about to elbow the asshole in the throat and force him to his knees so
he could slap the zip ties he had hidden on his person for just this reason around his wrists
when Mr. Midlife Crisis was abruptly pulled off of him-
“Get your fucking hands off him!”
-and punched in the face by the man he and Tessa had
been ogling but five minutes earlier.
Micah watched, taken aback, as the Greek god lookalike
pulled back his fist and pummeled the man again. And again. His assaulter fell back onto his
ass after the third hit. He scrambled backward awkwardly, attempting to shield his bloody
face from more attacks while simultaneously doing the crab walk.
Micah may have laughed if he weren’t so stunned.
About the Author
Fifer Rose is a happily married
mother of four human children and two very spoiled cats.
When she is not wiping
snotty noses or being bullied into feeding her cats (again?!), she can be found obsessing
over M/M romance. She loves all the tropes, some of her favorite being enemies to lovers,
hurt/comfort, sugar daddy, and mistaken identity. She also has a penchant for A/B/O
dynamics.
While Fifer is a sucker for
angst, a happily-ever-after is a MUST in all she reads and writes.
Unrelated hobbies include
baking, attempting to golf (for her husband’s sake), and daydreaming about traveling.
(No actual traveling because did you see the part about four kids?)
Can Avery open his
heart to two soldiers this Christmas?
Blurb
Can Avery open his heart to two soldiers this
Christmas? Felix Hawkins and Zach Walsh fell in love with each
other when they were fourteen—and with their best friend’s little brother when they were
twenty-three. But at that point, Avery was barely an adult, still wearing hearts in his eyes
when he looked at them. Felix was determined that they should wait so that Avery could
come to them on even footing, as an adult fully grown and with a clear head. Zach wasn’t
sure he could be that patient, but for Felix, and for Avery, he would do anything. So they’ve
held out for what feels like forever—and they know what they want for Christmas this
year! Avery McKenna might have crushed on his
brother’s best friends once upon a time, but that’s over with now… right? He’s focused on
his career, and while his job might not be keeping him warm at night, it’s summer in Sydney;
he doesn’t need any extra warmth. Felix and Zach and their charming… everything, can waltz
right back out the door because he doesn’t want anything to do with whatever game they’re
playing with him. It has to be a game, right? Earth-shattering kisses aside, why would they
ever want him for keeps? Is the beautiful picture they might paint together
worth the risk of it all going wrong? Avery has never been a gambler, but he might finally be
ready to take a chance on the best Christmas present he’s ever received. Two Soldiers for Christmas is a roughly 28,000-
word MMM older brother’s best friends Christmas novella featuring an established couple
adding a third, Christmas shenanigans, and a satisfying HFN ending.
Excerpt
If Zach hadn’t already fallen in love with this man, this
would have been the moment. The point in a rom-com movie where everything slows down
as that realisation kicks in. Except there were no oh fuck feelings to accompany it. It
wasn’t a surprising feeling for him. Zach welcomed it.
“What are you—?” Avery said, his eyes widening in horror.
They widened further when he looked down at himself. “Oh my god.”
He slammed the door in their faces.
Felix chuckled. “Think he forgot we were coming?”
Something crashed loudly inside and Zach instantly shoved
his bags at Felix and rushed through the—thankfully unlocked—door. If it hadn’t been, he
would have put his boot through it.
Avery was standing next to a small scaffolding set up, the
floor surrounding it covered in white sheets, and dozens of tins of paint in different sizes.
There were about six jars of murky water and paintbrushes and a few rollers, along with an
iPod speaker dock that had splashes of paint all over it. An iPod that Zach was pretty sure
was older than Avery was sitting in it, low Christmas music playing.
The only part of the situation that didn’t fit was the paint
tin that Avery was holding in his hand, red paint puddled all over the sheets and some of it
leaking onto to the tiling.
Avery stared at him, red paint dripping from his hair.
“Um…”
“Are you all right?” Felix asked. He took the paint tin from
Avery’s hand and checked it over while Zach took Avery’s face in his hands. Zach turned his
head left and right, making sure he hadn’t hurt himself. It looked like all the red was just
paint, but it was best to be sure.
Avery was still staring, wide-eyed, at him. “Yeah—yes? I’m
fine. I just…” He sighed and gestured at the scaffolding with the hand that Felix had just let
go of. “Knocked down the paint tin. It’s going to take me hours to clean this mess up.”
“I think you’re supposed to have a harness on when you’re
up that high,” Felix said, looking over the scaffolding with a slight frown on his face.
“It’s not high,” Avery said.
“Still above regulation height,” Felix said.
“Aren’t you just a walking inspector?” Avery shot back
sarcastically. “It’s fine.”
“What would happen if you did fall?” Felix’s eyes narrowed.
“If you were here alone and hit your head?”
Avery threw his hands up in aggravation. “I guess I would
just die?”
Zach bit back his snarled reaction to those words. He knew
that Avery wasn’t being serious, but it still made him feel like he’d been slammed in the
head by a helicopter rotor. He might not have been a medic, but he knew how quickly a
head injury could turn bad.
He reached out and grabbed one of the scaffolding legs,
and then pushed. It rolled easily under his grip. “You don’t even have the safety on,” he said
flatly.
“So what?”
“So what?” Zach repeated, his voice rising unintentionally.
“So have a little more care for your personal safety.”
“What, you guys are going to suddenly act like you give a
shit about me?” Avery’s hazel eyes were blazing.
“When have we not cared about you?” Felix asked. He
sounded like always did—even and level-headed. But Zach knew him too well. He could hear
the tremor of hurt that Felix was so good at concealing. Hearing it made anger rise in Zach’s
stomach. They didn’t deserve that. They’d never been dismissive of Avery, not once, in all
the years they’d known him.
“I’ve been doing this for years and I’m still here, so go pull
your big brother act on someone else,” Avery said, turning his back dismissively.
Zach whirled him around and trapped him against the
scaffolding, bracing himself with one hand gripping tightly to it. “Big brother act?” he bit out.
“You think that’s what this is?”
Avery’s pulse visibly jumped in his throat. The things that
Zach wanted to do to him, the thoughts he had, weren’t brotherly in any way. He took hold
of Avery’s chin and stroked his thumb across it, just under the alluring curve of his bottom
lip. Avery’s pupils dilated, his lips parting in shock.
We sounded like a bad
pop song from our youth. Or an even worse one from the present.
Blurb
“We’re going to have a brilliant Christmas, Andreas. Just like
it was ten years ago, all of us together,” Vati said, placing steaming cups of coffee in front of
us. “We’re just pointing out that you and Fredrik always had something special, and you
haven’t seen each other for years. It will be lovely for you to reconnect.”
“Reconnecting is fine. We can discuss college life versus
German nursing schools, drink Jägerbombs and watch weird Norwegian shit on TV.
Christmas will be thrilling.”
“Andreas…” Vati warned as Lottie burst into giggles.
“You adore Fredrik. Still. I can see it in your eyes. You go all
panic-stricken and weird when we even mention Freee—”
“Fredrik has a girlfriend in America. Maria hates my guts.
Frank and Thomas will whip my butt for not visiting over summer, and anyway, I have to buy
them a big present to bribe them to even talk to me.”
Vati smiled. “Frank and Thomas love you like a son, and
they will just hug the shit out of you as usual.”
“Alongside Maria’s boyfriend, and Fredrik’s girlfriend. It will
be a delightful group hug.” I snarled.
“Fredrik’s girlfriend isn’t coming. I told you that,” Vati said
sternly. He was pissed off with me already, and we hadn’t even had breakfast.
“Whatever.” I huffed.
Awkward
was the word I was looking for. This whole thing was going to be super awkward. Because
they always were. And Fredrik? My world used to spin around the strange, blonde boy who
was my best friend for a few years. He lit up my life. Then he fucked off. Well, he fucked off
because I told him to. I was stupid and scared. I think he was too.
Awkward.
That wasn’t even the start of what this Christmas was going to be like.
Authors’ Note:
Life is Right Here was intended to be a one-chapter Christmas epilogue to Life is Good and Other Lies.
This book is still that, an epilogue, and should be read
after Life is Good and Other Lies to make sense. We hope that it will bring everything full circle
and that you will enjoy, once again, following this family to their final HEA.
Trigger warnings:
Terminal and life-threatening illness. Bipolar disorder. Talk of
suicide and the fear of this. Far too many sugar-
laden Christmas foods.
This book has an HEA.
Excerpt
I’d tried. I really had tried. My dads had been
together since they were in their twenties, a lifetime. We all knew the story about how
they’d met and found love and lost and found and lost and found and then never lost again.
It was like a fairy tale, like one of Frank’s favourite movies, even if Thomas kept teasing him
that their meet-cute wasn’t actually an epic love story of any sort. He always said it had been
fate. Thing was, I’d always wanted that for myself, and I’d thought Andreas had been the
one, back when we were teenagers. But then he wasn’t, and I didn’t know what I’d done
wrong or why anything had happened in the first place.
My flights home to Oslo this time were chaotic and stressful
with too many people going somewhere for Christmas. I’d managed to wrap myself into my
own bubble of blankets and cheap pillows and dozed over Canada, then watched the ice
over Greenland in wide-eyed, jet-lagged wonder. I’d barely registered landing in Paris before
rushing through CDG, a mishmash of then-futuristic architecture from the last century and
modern, energy-saving solutions that made me dizzy. I barely caught my flight and dozed off
again the second I hit my seat. I felt calmer now; home was getting closer. If it was still home, I
thought before my brain shut off.
“Fredrik!” My dad’s arms were long and warm around me
outside customs. I dropped my bag and backpack on the floor. My eyes were wet; my god,
how much I had missed him. I leant into his chest and sniffed in the familiar smell of his
shampoo and aftershave, the detergent we used at home, his stubble scratching my cheek,
his hair tickling my lips. I breathed him for who knew how long. Seconds, minutes, I didn’t
care.
I was finally home again.
About the Authors
Magdalena Di Sotru
is an information security and data protection enthusiast from Norway. She is a mother of
two and wife of one as well as a long-established fanfic writer. Her favourite food is (actually)
salads (without mayo), her favourite guilty pleasure is fresh bakery goods (and that explains
why everyone would think the salad was a lie). She knows her way around knitting, lock
picking and skydiving (all at about equal skill levels – go figure). Life is Good and Other lies
was her first novel.
Sophia Soames
should be old enough to know better but has barely grown up. She has been known to
fangirl over TV shows, has fallen in and out of love with more popstars than she dares to
remember, and has a ridiculously high-flying (un-)glamourous real-life job.
Her long-suffering husband
just laughs at her antics. Their children are feral. The dogs are too.
She lives in a creaky old
house in rural London, although her heart is still in her native Scandinavia.
Discovering that the stories in
her head make sense when written down has been part of the most hilarious midlife crisis
ever, and she hopes it may long continue.
Can a bit of Irish charm rescue an injured soldier from his
wrenching heartache?
Blurb
Injured ex-soldier, Kane Taylor, has lost everything—the job
he loves, the use of his trigger hand, and the love of his life. Moving to remote Donegal in
Ireland to fix those lost links with his deceased partner’s ancestors is the only thing keeping
his memories alive. Publican Declan McCafferty has everything—a job
he loves, a community he adores and a revolving door of lovers. But when he sets eyes on
the new sexy, brooding regular customer at his pub staring solemnly into his Guinness night
after night, Declan realises he needs one more thing—him. Kane isn’t ready to give himself to another man,
but the charismatic and charming publican is hard to resist. Can a fling be such a bad
thing? It is when Declan discovers Kane is the only man in
his life he’s not willing to let go. Irish Charm (Flying into Love #3) is a
contemporary hurt/comfort, opposites attract, second chance MM romance featuring an ex-
military alpha male recovering from heartache and a cheeky Irish publican allergic to
commitment.
Excerpt
“What you grinning for?” Ciara was at his office door, nose
scrunched.
Declan composed the returning message, then clicked off
the phone and dropped it on his desk.
“You’ll get an extra hundred in your pay this month. Euan
coughed up.”
“You got that tight arse to pay? How did you do
that?”
“My obvious charm.”
“Did you deny him his drink?”
“Aye.”
Ciara snorted.
“You’re still okay to stay until closing tonight? Paddy’ll be
with you, so you won’t be alone to lock up.”
Declan stood, smoothing down his shirt. “Doubt that.” He
did. He needed to get laid. However it came. “Does this shirt make me look—”
“Old?”
“Publican?”
“Aye.”
“Oh.”
“Cause y’are.”
“I know, but sometimes I like to hide that fact.” He
unbuttoned the shirt, ruffling it out from his jeans and flapped it off his arms.
“What vocation you going for?”
“Model? Actor? Front man of a boy band.”
Ciara cracked out a laugh. “Only way you’ll pass for that is if
you serve the bloke your lock, stock and barrels, getting him so bollocksed he can’t see.”
“You’re good for the soul, y’know, Ciara.”
Ciara curtseyed. “You’re welcome. You still won’t go out
though.”
Declan shot a confused look over his shoulder as he
rummaged around in his office wardrobe. He kept spare clothes down here for those times
he needed a quick change rather than having to venture up three flights of stairs. Mostly it
was shirts for when he’d been drenched with beer. Or the occasional jacket for when he had
the brewers in. Or a jumper for when he needed to head into the cellar at night. But, right at
the back, were a few go-tos for last minute dates. He yanked a T-shirt off a hanger and
checked it over. Least it didn’t spell middle-aged owner of a centuries-old pub. It was tight.
Might as well be a base layer. Perhaps it was. He wriggled into it. Thank Mary he still had a
decent body. He turned to Ciara and smoothed down the creases, tucking the tee into his
waistband.
“This?”
“Aye, you could pass for one of the fellas from Boyzone. The
oldest one.”
“Grand.” Declan ruffled his curls.
“You still won’t go out though.”
“Why not?”
Ciara smirked, then angled her head for Declan to follow
her. He tutted. If it was Jacob, he’d call the Garda. Or his daughter. He’d put the fella in a
home himself. Because nothing was going to prevent him getting laid tonight. He needed rid
of the loitering scent of Rowan, and to work off the lingering fantasy of a certain army
captain.
Ciara led Declan from his back office, through the inn’s
reception and into the main bar. Irish folk played on a loop for the few customers chatting
into their drinks and finishing off the special of steak and ale pie with greens. Ciara stopped,
folded her arms and nodded toward one of the tables.
Declan regretted his choice of top as it restricted his lungs
expanding.
In an exact recreation of the previous night, Captain Kane
Taylor stared forlornly into a pint of Guinness. Declan doubted a single drop had passed his
lips and it wouldn’t be anything to do with how Shane had poured it. A shadow of a
man—hunched and childlike—there was too much and nothing at all going on behind sad
eyes. Declan’s desire to go to him wrenched hard. Harder than his need to release his pent-
up load into a stranger.
Ignoring Ciara’s triumphant “told ye so”, he went to him
and slipped into the seat opposite.
“Howaya?”
Kane met his gaze, eyes dreary and empty yet filled with
need. With hope. With longing. He dug deep into his jeans pocket, fished out a coin and slid
it across the table.
Declan tilted his head. “Don’t usually accept British
currency. I’ll make an exception for you though.” He picked up the two pound coin and
tossed it into the air, catching it in his fist. “You want change, it’ll have to be in cents.”
“No need for change. I have a lot of thoughts to pay
for.”
Declan’s lips curved into a benevolent smile. Ciara had been
right. With thoughts of nothing but this man, Declan wasn’t going anywhere.
“Bottle of Jameson’s, Ciara,” he called over to the bar. “Two
glasses.” He then wrapped his hand around Kane’s pint and dragged it toward him. “I take it
you’re not going to drink this?”
“No. As much as I want to.”
“I hope, one day, that I can drink it.”
“That day not today?”
“That day isn’t today.”
Declan held up the glass in salute. “Then I’ll take one for
your team.” He drank the lot, dumping the empty onto the beer mat, and wiped the froth
from his lips. “Can’t waste the best poured pint outside Dublin.”
About the Author
Brought up in a relatively
small town in Hertfordshire, C F White managed to do what most other residents try to do
and fail—leave.
Studying at a West London
university, she realised there was a whole city out there waiting to be discovered, so, much
like Dick Whittington before her, she never made it back home and still endlessly search for
the streets paved with gold, slowly coming to the realisation they’re mostly paved with
chewing gum. And the odd bit of graffiti. And those little circles of yellow spray paint where
the council point out the pot holes to someone who is supposedly meant to fix them instead
of staring at them vacantly whilst holding a polystyrene cup of watered-down
coffee.
Eventually she moved West to
East along that vast District Line and settled for pie and mash, cockles and winkles and a bit
of Knees Up Mother Brown to live in the East End of London; securing a job and creating a
life, a home and a family.
After her second son was
born with a rare disability, C F White’s life changed and it brought pen back to and paper
after having written stories as a child but never had the confidence to show them to the
world. Now, having embarked on this writing journey, C F White can’t stop.
Will reconnecting with
my childhood best friend awaken desires?
Blurb
Seventeen years ago, my life fell apart. By attempting to
protect me, my best friend, Rory, accidentally tore us apart. After being in a dark place, I’m
getting my life back on track.
A surprising summons to London threatens to throw my life
into disarray once more. It’s probably the worst time to reach out to Rory, yet rekindling our
friendship could lead to something new. Something stronger.
Rory and his kinky housemates welcome me and open my
eyes to things I never thought I’d be interested in. When my life gets more complicated, Rory
is there to help. The closer we get, the more I realise I want more than friendship. Will past
trauma stop me from having what—or who—I want now?
Awakened Desires is a friends-to-lovers, slow-burn romance with a first-time dad, a bi-sexual awakening,
several first experiences, some hurt/comfort, and sensory play. It’s the fifth book in the My Kinky Housemate series. While it can be read as a standalone, it’s better to read it as
part of the series.
Trigger warning: One of the main characters is an
alcoholic who has been sober for some time and was a victim of abuse in their
youth.
Excerpt
“Rory.”
He freezes.
“Would you sit?”
He nods slowly and then sits. I can see the tension in his
shoulders and jaws.
“I think we need to talk, don’t you?”
Rory stares past me, his expression unreadable.
“Clear the air,” I say. “Get everything we couldn’t say as kids off
our chests.”
He finally makes eye contact with me. “I’m sorry.”
“Sorry? What for?”
“Betraying your trust. Telling your secret to the Garda. I
just“—he clenches his teeth, squeezes his eyes shut, and shakes his head—“I couldn’t let
him keep hurting you.”
“I know. I’m not angry about that, Rory. I’ve never been angry
about what you did.”
“You left without a word. You never called or wrote. I
thought—”
“Mam and Dad convinced me I needed to put everything
behind me. They thought it was the only way I’d heal.” I let out a bitter laugh. “If only. But
that’s in the past now. It’s all in the past. Things are better. I’m okay.” I reach across the table
and squeeze his hand. “You shouldn’t feel guilty for what you did.” I manage to smile. “I
hope you left some deep gouges in that bastard’s car when you keyed it.”
“Three.” Rory’s smile is watery. “They were deep and
long.”
“Good.” I take my hand away from his. “This is weird.”
He nods. “Are you really okay, Cal?”
God. It’s been so long since anyone has called me that. It was
always Rory’s nickname for me. It was what he called me before he could say my name
properly, and then it stuck. I’ve never asked or wanted anyone else to call me Cal. A knot of
emotion makes it hard to breathe. I clear my throat to dislodge it so I can answer his
question.
“I am now. It took a long time.”
About the Author
Colette’s personal love story began at university, where she
met her future husband. An evening of flirting, in the shadow of Lancaster castle, eventually
led to a fairytale wedding. She’s enjoying her own ‘happy ever after’ in the north of England
with her husband, two beautiful children and her writing.
Detective Quinn Hughes doesn’t have many regrets in life,
but Sebastian Devlin is the biggest. As a cop and a defence lawyer, the deck was stacked
against them to start with, but Quinn was the one who left a burning inferno behind him.
Missing his chance with ex-Special Forces Commando Peyton Sinclair is a close second on his
regrets list, but Quinn isn’t going to ruin the happiness Peyton has found with fellow police
officer Will McMahon for anything—not even a chance at his own happiness.
Best friends Will McMahon and Peyton Sinclair have been
hooking up for years, content with their arrangement and the comfort they get from it.
When Sebastian—the hot lawyer they picked up at the club the night before—stumbles over
a dead body in their kitchen on his way out, calling Quinn is instinctive for them. Years of
unacknowledged tension between Peyton and Quinn is a sore point, but Peyton trusts that
Quinn will figure out the mess they’ve landed in.
While Quinn tries to find answers, Peyton and Will quickly
find themselves tangled in the tension between Quinn and Sebastian. They’re hoping Quinn
can move fast—before one of them becomes the next dead body—but the situation
becomes even more complicated when another explosive night proves that Peyton and Will
aren’t done with either Quinn or Sebastian, just as much as the two aren’t done with each
other.
Between the mind-blowing night Sebastian spent with
Peyton and Will, and the fact that every time he turns around it’s either Quinn or the barrel
of a gun waiting for him, Sebastian has never had more regrets. If he can survive long
enough to get some answers, maybe the four of them together are going to be the catalyst
for a future that’s more wildly different than anything they’d ever imagined.
Catalyst is a 90,000-word MMMM romance that ends in
a HFN. It is Book 1 in an ongoing series following the same four men and their relationship. It
contains adult situations, gun use, references to murder and drug usage, suspense themes
and a character with PTSD
Excerpt
Will nursed his empty glass as he waited for Peyton to
come back with more drinks. Having some drinks and dancing at a club was their favourite
way to unwind after a long week. While they’d stopped pretending that they were looking
for anyone to take home years ago—since their casual sex arrangement worked for them
and meant they didn’t need to spend their weekends trolling for random hookups—it didn’t
mean they didn’t like going out. Sometimes it heightened things later, when they made
themselves wait before they went home to fuck.
A few drinks, an up close and personal dance, and they
were ripping each other’s clothes off when they got home.
Peyton had been in a foul mood when he’d gotten home
and Will had sucked him off in the shower, but it hadn’t helped much. It had eased some of
the tension, but Will knew it was still there. Honestly, he wasn’t sure what Quinn’s problem
was. They both wanted each other, so why didn’t they? Peyton had asked Will once if it
bothered him, and maybe it should have—they’d been exclusive fuck buddies for years—but
thinking of Peyton with Quinn had never been a turnoff. The thought of it had spurred on
some of their hotter sessions together.
Will figured Quinn had to have his reasons, whatever they
were. He would have appreciated it if Quinn had let Peyton know what they were so he
could move on, but he didn’t know Quinn well enough to approach him directly. Their
relationship was purely professional.
“A guy that looks like you shouldn’t be sitting alone,” a
voice to his immediate left said.
Will smirked in amusement as he looked up, and then
almost swallowed his tongue. Well, hello there.
Dark blue eyes—that reminded him a bit of Peyton, though
Peyton’s were a little darker—that were shaped by sleek black glasses and long thick lashes.
His bow-shaped lips were drawn up in a smug smirk. It should have been off-putting or
smarmy. But coupled with the plain silver barbell piercing in his left eyebrow, it was making
Will’s dick stand up and take notice.
He was bulkier than Will—which wasn’t hard, since Will
was toned, but lanky—and filled his suit out in all the right places. He was wearing form-
fitting black slacks with shining dress shoes. No suit jacket, which was absolutely fine with
Will, considering that he had rolled up his sleeves to reveal smooth tan forearms. It was
kryptonite to any human being with a pulse.
It was too bad that Will’s only plans included getting Peyton
home and naked. Because damn, he was fucking sexy. Will couldn’t even remember if he’d
been into piercings before. He was now. Piercings, glasses, exposed forearms. Will might as
well have stamped “fantasy issue” on the guy’s forehead.
“Name’s Sebastian.”
Will smirk widened as he took the hand that Sebastian
offered. “Will.”
“Is this seat taken?”
“Well, it’s—”
Peyton returned then, two glasses of whiskey. His eyebrows
raised at Sebastian as he slid the glasses on to the table.
“Peyton, this is Sebastian,” Will said, smiling playfully.
“Hi, Sebastian,” Peyton said, in the same voice. He glanced
between them curiously as he sat on the tall stool next to Will. He reached a hand over and
placed it in Will’s lap, feeling the growing hardness in his jeans.
Sebastian put one hand in his pocket, smiling sheepishly.
“Pleasure. Have a nice night, you two.”
“No, stay,” Peyton said. He gave Will’s dick a gentle squeeze
and Will swallowed, heat rushing over him. He put his hand over Peyton’s but didn’t move it.
“Have a seat.” Peyton used his free hand to gesture at the empty seat opposite them.
Sebastian stared at Peyton as he did. Will couldn’t blame
him. Peyton was stunning to look at. All sultry eyes and delicate features. His shoulder-
length dirty blond hair was pulled up in a messy bun, with wisps of it falling over his temple
and forehead. The low lighting of the club only made his midnight blue eyes look darker, and
his cheeks were still flushed from their earlier dancing.
“You can share my drink,” Will said. He took a sip of his
drink and then pushed it across. He made a show of arching his neck back and swallowing,
so Sebastian could see he’d drank some himself.
The Road to Rocktoberfest 2022 – A multi-author
series
Hot rockstars and the men
who love them, what more could you ask for?
Each book can be read as a
standalone, but why not read them all and see who hits the stage next? Hot rockstars and
the men who love them, what more could you ask for?
Kick back, load up your
kindle and enjoy the men of Rocktoberfest!
1 – Hidden Blade by Kaje Harper
2 – Blinding Light by BL
Maxwell
3 – Feel The Noise by Aria
Grace
4 – Changing His Tune by
Blake Allwood
5 – Three of a Kind by Nic
Starr
6 – Midnight Reunion by Lynn
Michaels
7 – Bleeding Dawn by Layla
Dorine
8 – Syncing Rhythms by Kris
Jacen
9 – Muted Chords by Samuel
York
10 – In Tune by Elle Keaton
11 – David’s Disaster: Embrace
the Fear 2 by TL Travis
Social anxiety’s been my constant companion for twenty-
three years, sometimes in the background, sometimes silencing me and yanking my guts out
in the nearest trash can. No matter how much I love playing music, I’m never going to get up
on a stage and perform in front of a crowd. But since I met Erik, and was asked to join his
band Hellsbane, that knowledge hurts worse.
No heart (even Erik’s) or dick (even Erik’s) is big enough to
carry me past my limits, but God, I wish there was a way.
Erik
Life’s damned unfair when a guy with the voice of a hard-
rock angel and a songwriting talent like Cam’s can only post anonymous videos online. But
you can’t cure anxiety with wanting, or willpower. My drummer needs to quit trying to push
Cam onstage with us before he breaks.
Rocktoberfest’s our goal, and touring with Hellsbane was
my only ambition until I met Cam. Now I can’t have everything I love in one place, but
dammit, I wish there was a way.
A first-times, life challenges, coming out, rockstar
romance.
Easy Rian has been lead singer for Blinding Light since the band was formed.
Through the years many things have changed. Not all of them good. When the lead guitarist
leaves mid-tour, the rest of the band is left waiting to see if they’ll continue on to
Roctoberfest, or if this is where their tour ends.
Liam Tarrant has been playing guitar for as long as he can
remember. When he gets the chance to audition for Blinding Light, he jumps at the chance.
Meeting the band is surreal, especially the lead singer, Easy. Liam has always had a crush on
Easy, but he never thought he’d get the chance to meet him, let alone spend time alone with
him.
Easy is drawn to Liam, no matter how much he wants to
deny it. When the two are thrown together over practice and planning the upcoming tour,
attraction grows between the two of them that neither can deny. But falling in love on tour
could be what finally ends Blinding Light, and both of them will need to choose what’s more
important to them. Love or music, can they have it all? #Rockstar #mmromance
#grumpysunshine #friendstolovers
Larson Monroe is not a rockstar. Not by any stretch of the imagination. He’s
a newly promoted middle manager for the marketing department of a sports apparel
company…and he’s content. Mostly. But when Pitch, his identical twin brother, calls and begs
for help, Lars can’t resist indulging in the childhood game of pretending to be his
brother.
Reed likes being hired by stuffed suits and high society
types just fine. But when he gets the chance to work security for Rocktoberfest, the biggest
rock festival in the country, he’s eager to take the job. It’ll be a nice change of pace and a fat
bonus for being on-site during the event. What he doesn’t expect is the change of pace of
his heart when he spots Pitch Monroe, lead singer for a newbie band he’s never even heard
of.
The sparks are instant and quickly burn hotter than either
of them have ever felt before. But when Larson’s real identity is exposed, it doesn’t exactly
go as planned…
Tired of being lonely, Hayden decides to take his life
back, starting with changing his music and his identity. Will these transitions be worth the
risk, or will they destroy everything he’s worked for?
Hayden Koal’s life has been… different. One minute he’s a
young boy living on his grandpa’s Iowa farm, the next, his parents have whisked him off to LA
and thrust him into teenage stardom. Now that he’s an adult, he’s got a lot of choices to
make about his life, his career, and his love life.
Erik Anderson has it all. A great job, friends that he loves
like family, and… okay maybe it isn’t perfect, but finding the right guy isn’t easy. When he
meets his celebrity crush Hayden Koal everything changes.
Their love affair is fraught with trouble from the moment
they come together and both Hayden and Erik have tough decisions to make. Will they
choose to upend their lives or sacrifice their love?
What happens when friendship becomes love, and you’re presented with
seemingly impossible choices while the world is watching?
Harvey, lead guitarist with Australian rock band,
HyperOctane, thought playing at Rocktoberfest would be the highlight of his career. He
didn’t expect a performance that would shape the rest of his life.
Ravi
Admitting his feelings for Harvey was one of the hardest
things he’d ever done. Being rejected was crushing. He never thought he’d be living the
same heartbreak years later after finally finding love.
Bo
He broke Ravi’s heart but he couldn’t ignore the feelings he
had for Harvey. It wasn’t fair on Rav, and Bo knew it was for the best, but why did doing the
right thing have to hurt so much?
Harvey
He wasn’t sure which was his biggest regret—hurting Ravi
all those years ago, or more recently giving in to temptation and having a one-night stand
with Bo. He’d always been close to his younger brother’s best friends, and now it seemed
he’d messed things up with both of them.
Now all three of them must confront their feelings for each
other. Why do things have to be so complicated?
Three of a Kind is a gay rock star romance featuring second
chances, friends to lovers, and menage.
A Midnight Hunt Reunion is coming to Rocktoberfest
2022
Or are they? When Miami proposes getting the band back
together for the big rock festival ahead, it could mean everything to him – his career, his
life…and most importantly, a second shot with bandmate, Jinx.
Jinx isn’t sure what to do. He’d left Midnight Hunt and
Miami for good reason, but his life wasn’t turning out to be what he thought it was. Would a
reunion get him inspired, fulfill his desires? Would it lead back into Miami’s arms? Or would
everything bomb, falling right off the charts? Again?
Get ready for a rockstar reunion romance! It’s a slow burn
will they/won’t they filled with music and a killer rock festival!
Identical in appearance, twins Winter and Tripp are as different as night and
day when it comes to everything but the music they’ve spent the bulk of their lifetimes
composing. Now they’ve attained the fame they always hoped for, and it’s as empty and
meaningless as the remains of route 66, and about as broken too. Would help if Winter
could see it. Tripp’s sure he’ll lose his shit completely the next time some random groupie
leaps on the hood of his car and begs to take a selfie, but to Winter, every night is a party, he
lives for the crazy hookups, lives for the crazy, period.
Another place they differ.
Tripp would kill for one season to slow down. Just three
months where he and Zakk could melt into obscurity and be whomever they wanted,
together. Only Zakk’s band, Tattered Angel, is on fire too and it’s starting to seem like the
music he’s always loved is hell-bent on keeping him from exploring love of a different kind.
Last year’s Rocktoberfest was an amazing triumph, this year, it’s starting to feel like the road
to the desert is burning him alive.
Would be so easy to slip off across the sand, melt into a
dune on the back of some strange, psychedelic serpent, never to be heard from again. If only
there was a way to ensure Zakk took that last ride with him.
It’s taken years for Dawson’s band, AudioLock, to finally ‘make it’. Okay,
maybe they hadn’t made it yet but they were invited to perform on the big stage at
Rocktoberfest. Driving the beat of the band warmed his soul but Dawson really wished there
was someone to warm his heart and bed.
Ben Williams’ passion for music and theater is all-
encompassing but he doesn’t have a talented bone in his body. However, he does have the
mind and personality to manage everything that happens when the curtain goes up. His
ultimate goal of being a stage manager for a major rock band is in sight. He didn’t think
anything could change his focus until a certain drummer appeared on Ben’s stage.
Dreams within reach, are Ben and Dawson willing to change
so they can sync rhythms together?
Josh Shepard has an intense and strange connection to music,
considering he was born deaf. His bond with music is much easier than any relationship he’s
ever had with humans. Then he meets Branston ‘Bran’ Vale. Bran is the type of guy Josh
fantasized about meeting. With Bran in their band, traveling with them, Josh has a hard time
keeping it together.
Bran isn’t prepared for the impact Josh has on him. Bran
has had trouble with entanglements before, but this is different with Josh.
He’s ready to commit to more when a ghost from his past
comes back to haunt him. Bran might have to give up everything to save the band and
Josh.
Life is good for Dean Blanchett, lead guitarist of the
superstar rock band, the Lost Apostles. He’s got his music, he’s got his dog, he’s got his best
friend Luka and the girl he’s gonna marry. Right up until a few days before the biggest show
of the year, when his fiancé literally throws his ring in his face and leaves him for an
accountant.
AN ACCOUNTANT.
Dean quickly spirals out of control, knowing Luka will be
there to pick up the pieces. Again. It’s a good thing he has a friend like Luka.
Luka
How many more times will Luka have to put Dean together
again? Staying with the band, taking care of Dean’s dog – who’s really Luka’s dog – while
Dean chases after the next girl who is ‘the one’ and then crashes and burns. Again. It’s all
taking its toll.
And why does his stupid heart keep insisting Dean is the
only one it wants?
This time is IT. Luka is done with the Dean Drama, the soul-
mates-of-the-month, even the band. He loves Dean, he has since they met, but Dean is
straight as a ruler. And unless something changes, he’s going to self-destruct something Luka
can’t bear to watch.
When Luka throws down an ultimatum, Dean begins to
question everything—including his sexuality.
Can he live without his best friend? Does he even want to
try?
There’s only one way to find out; he has to live with him
first.
His band, Embrace the Fear, were living the rock ‘n roll
dream as an up-and-coming band under Masterson Management. They weren’t rolling in
the dough like the guys from Social and Maiden were, but things were good.
Outside of his love life that was.
David wasn’t a player, unless you count video games. He
grew up in a middle-class family. Both his parents worked and were supportive of him in
every way. To this day they were still head over heels in love with each other.
The one thing missing from David’s life was the same kind
of connection his parents had.
But David’s needs were a bit unorthodox and not always
welcome with guys closer to his age. Would an older man look past the number and trust
David to take care of them—body and soul?
Jordan Wright has a thriving business thanks to being
awarded the contract to manage the catering for Rocktoberfest for a second year.
He’s thrilled to be back at the venue again—maybe this is
the year something special will happen, although he’s not counting on it.
Since Jordan’s last failed attempt at a relationship, he’s
sworn only to engage in meaningless hook-ups.
But Jordan longs for a daddy of his own.
Will he ever be able to open his mind, and his heart, again?
Enough to trust another man, not only with his body, but to catch him when he falls.
Two teenage boys were certain they’d be best friends for life. With clear
paths planned for the future, they were ready to take on the world. All it took was one
deep—very adult kiss to throw them off kilter, and their plans turned to dust. One chose a
path toward stardom and stage lights while the other stayed behind in their hometown and
pursued his dream of being a cop. Although they hoped to see one another again, neither
thought it would ever happen.
No one can turn back time, but perhaps the future can be altered with a little luck—and a lot
of love.
Gamble: I was fifteen when I realized I was in love with
my best friend, Bix. Since then, not a day has passed when he didn’t cross my mind. I arrived
in L.A. at eighteen with nothing more than raw talent and a dream, then fell face-first into
drug addiction but not before my band hit it big, earning awards and million-dollar
paychecks. Success was one thing, but I still wanted Bix and the simple life we once had
growing up on Starfish Island.
Bixby: I spent a lot of years worrying about Gamble. The
entertainment news was great about airing his dirty laundry, which kept me aware of how
low he was sinking. Now I worried he might not survive. I’d wanted him since that one
perfect kiss we shared on graduation night, and I’ve wanted a lifetime of more with him ever
since.
Possible Triggers: Mentions of drug addiction, overdose,
recovery, and a gunshot wound.
Easy Rian has been lead singer for Blinding Light since the band was formed.
Larson Monroe is not a rockstar. Not by any stretch of the imagination. He’s
Tired of being lonely, Hayden decides to take his life
What happens when friendship becomes love, and you’re presented with
A Midnight Hunt Reunion is coming to Rocktoberfest
Identical in appearance, twins Winter and Tripp are as different as night and
It’s taken years for Dawson’s band, AudioLock, to finally ‘make it’. Okay,
Josh Shepard has an intense and strange connection to music,
Dean
For David Jordan life was close to perfect. 
Two teenage boys were certain they’d be best friends for life. With clear