SERIES TOUR: “Nacho Mama’s Patio Cafe Novels” by Steve Shatz

Post author:Eric Huffbind
Post published:July 13, 2021
Post category:Gay Book Promotions Series Tour
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SERIES TOUR – NACHO MAMA’S PATIO CAFE
NOVELS

Friends, fags, & fun in a little college town

Any Summer Sunday

Boys in the Band meets Le Cage in an Indiana
drag bar

Who Plugged the Dyke?

Elections are hard. This one is Murder

The two books stand alone and can be read in either order,
although Any Summer Sunday was written
first and contains more background information. It is a more character driven story.
Who Plugged the Dyke is a
mystery.

Overall Heat Rating: 2 flames. Tawdry, but not dirty. Sex is described as part of a story, but
not in detail. No sex scenes. Not romance. Not erotica. Think of gay friends in a bar who
might describe a conquest (but not the specifics).

BOOK 1

Book Title: Any
Summer Sunday at Nacho Mama’s Patio Cafe:

Drag, Songs, Friends, Laughs,
Lies, Danger & Redemption

Author: Steve
Schatz

Publisher: Any Summer
Sunday Books

Cover Artist: James at
GoOnWrite

Length: 75 000 words/ 234
Pages

Release Date: June 21,
2019

Genre: LGBT Humorous Fiction

Trope/s: Reluctant hero, power of friendship, metonymy (Drag – the

entire life around performance in a gay bar & Nacho Mama’s represents a safe place
where friends gather, gossip, and support each other)

Themes: Friends, Small town gay, Drag and Performance, Lookin’ for
love

It is a standalone
story

Goodreads

Buy Links

Amazon US | Amazon UK

Bookshop | Any Summer
Sunday

How far should you go to save a friend from her own
desires?

Blurb

TiaRa del Fuego is in love and that means trouble for her
friends. Every Sunday evening we meet in
Hoosier Daddy, our small college town’s only
gay bar gather to watch TiaRa del Fuego’s
Parade of Gowns drag show.
Performance, love, betrayal, spies, and friendship fight to the fore every Summer
Sunday.

However, this Sunday, dear TiaRa, thin enough to hate, yet
broken enough to love, announces she has found love…yet again…and is leaving after that
evening’s show to be with her new man. We know she is making a huge mistake…again.
What can we do?

Any Summer Sunday is a celebration of friends, drag,
and life. Come and join in the fun.

Excerpt from Any Summer Sunday

With few exceptions, the same group of reprobates
gathered every week. We are no longer young, but all have spent our years wisely or wildly
enough to hold one’s place when the conversation turns a bit too bitchy. We enjoyed our
youth, are enjoying the years beyond youth without regret, and occasionally enjoy
youths—when the opportunity arises, as it were.

All societies celebrate the young, but in gay circles, this
celebration borders on idolatry. Twenty-somethings and now even teeny-somethings who
celebrate their coming out are welcomed into a glorious disco summer camp with every
conceivable need provided. For those of us who are years past the realization and/or
announcement, being out offers far fewer invitations. We often find ourselves between
worlds—not certain of a welcome in either gay or straight society.

In “normal” society, it is tiresome to yet again face the “ . . .
and your wife?” questions in every new group and to worry if it is going to be an issue. If I
have an urge to explore square dancing, must I find a gay square—hmmm . . . Mr. Lynde
springs to mind. Sometimes it’s easier not to bother. Then there are those moments when it
suddenly pisses you off that you are supposed to feel gratitude merely for being accepted or
endured by the dominant pairing paradigm.

In the gay
community, the adulation of youth and horror of aging can make one feel diseased. Even
previously enjoyable activities can be snatched away. Take window shopping. I enjoy looking
at a pretty pair of pants when it walks by, even if I know it will never fit, I can’t afford it, and
the style is all wrong for a man of my years and shape. I look because it is pretty, and I enjoy
looking at pretty things. But, if every time I go looking, the trousers, upon noticing my gaze,
gasp in horror, turn away with a look of sardonic pity, and begin to whisper with their fellow
couture, I eventually will give up looking.

So, when we find
a group and an enjoyable activity where we can simply be, without the need to prove or
explain ourselves, then it is something to be cherished. Not misty-eyed, bosom clutching
cherished, but those people and enjoyments are simply too dear to give up without a care.
Sunday afternoons were like that. That is why, when one Sunday, TiaRa del Fuego—dear,
sweet, damaged TiaRa—announced that she had found love, yet again—this time on a
dating site and was leaving town to be with her new man who was driving up that very day
to help her move—well, we knew something had to be done and quickly.

BOOK 2

Book Title:
Who Plugged the Dyke?

Author: Steve

Schatz

Publisher: Any Summer
Sunday Books

Cover Artist: James at
GoOnWrite

Length: 218 pages 67,000
words

Release Date: July
2020

Genres: LBGT Mystery, LGBT Humor, LGBT Fiction

Trope: Reluctant
hero

Themes: Friendship, small town gays, detection, politics

It is a standalone
story.

Goodreads

Buy Links

Amazon US | Amazon UK

Bookshop | Any Summer
Sunday

A gay mystery full to the
tits with action and wit.

Blurb

Some Elections are hard … This one is Murder!

Get ready for Excitement, Laughs, Thrills and Fun!

In 10 days she’ll be the 1st in your face lesbian judge
elected in homo-hating Indiana. But someone wants to kill her and her little dog
too.

The friends from Nacho Mama’s Patio
Cafe must put on their big boy panties, get out of
Hoosier Daddy, the only gay bar in town, onto the streets and go hunting for the
culprit.

Thrills, drag shows, danger, laughs and a kick line of drag
queens in judicial robes as the anti-heroes dodge explosions, fire, guns, knives and terror,
seek out the hidden mastermind and sashay to the rescue.

You loved Any Summer Sunday at Nacho
Mama’s Patio Cafe. Now, the merry band from the
small Indiana college town’s drag bar return. It’s an Indiana Election Mystery.
Who Plugged the Dyke?

Excerpt from Who Plugged the Dyke?

I noticed that the big, bearded Tooth Fairy had moved nearly in front of me. There is
something wonderfully wrong about a big ol’ hunka hunka in a pink tutu. I grinned at him.
He didn’t grin back. His attention was fixed on Deb. However, he was not smiling. He was
just staring. Something in the back of my mind tickled. I started watching him more carefully.
He was playing with his magic wand. It was about three feet long and trailed stars and
strands of glitter. But he was pulling off the covering and it was looking less and less like a
wand and more and more like a weapon. Recalling what I had been told, I looked for Roger
or Petunia or one of Nacho’s Twinks. I couldn’t see Roger. Petunia was at the back of the
stage, guarding the way in. I saw a couple of cute Twinks, but didn’t know if they were
Nacho’s boys or not. I started to raise my hand and kind of gesture toward the Tooth Fairy. I
was trying to be cool and not alert him that I had noticed anything untoward. He continued
to pull away the spangles. He was looking down at the wand and then up at Deb, and I could
see a look of menace grow across his features.

I waved my hands over my head and then pointed down at him. Some in the crowd saw
what I was doing and waved, too. They thought it was a celebratory gesture. I began to wave
my hands and point more emphatically. I nearly lost my balance, but no one seemed to get
the message. No one was heading in that direction. I looked at he man, who was no longer
looking fairy-like at all. He had finished pulling all the detritus off his wand and while I was
not a weapons guy, even I could recognize that what was once a wand was now, very
obviously, a weapon. A blow gun.

He reached into his bag and pulled out, not a handful of glitter, but a rather large dart with

a very large and very sharp point. By this time, subtle was no longer on the table. I waved
my hands wildly above my head, then pointed at the guy. I did not care if he saw. I had to
stop him, and no one seemed to be coming to do anything about it. Deb was talking. The
girls were dancing. And the Tooth Fairy dropped the dart into his blow gun.

About the Author

Steve Schatz writes with a
crazy mashup of laughs and excitement and humor. Readers can’t stop reading, but don’t
want the story to end. Each book is an adventure where endearing anti-heroes struggle
against this crazy world and triumph using the twin forces of intentional, creative action and
friends helping friends. Schatz draws on a lifetime of varied and fascinating experiences,
from instructional designer and college prof to party clown and nightclub
owner.

His series of adult fiction
highlights a group of middle-aged gay friends who gather every week in a small, Indiana
college town. Mixing drinks, snappy repartee, and the humor and joy of long-time friends, in
one book they rescue the fair drag queen from an obvious miscreant. In another, they ride
to the protection of a lesbian candidate for judge who is being targeted by mysterious
evil-doers. The excitement reveals itself against a backdrop of drag performance and efforts
by anti-heroes. You’ll laugh. You’ll cry. You’ll beg for more. Steve Schatz offers a new voice
and a smile for the LGBT community and their friends.

Author Links

Blog/Website
|
Twitter: @AnySummerSunday

Facebook | Newsletter sign-up

Giveaway

Enter the Rafflecopter
Giveaway for a chance to win

one of three ebook
copies of Any Summer Sunday,

one of three ebook copies of Who Plugged the Dyke?,

or an audiobook of either book.

Total of 8 giveaways

a
Rafflecopter giveaway

Hosted by Gay Book Promotions

AUDIOBOOK TOUR: “Atonement Camp for Unrepentant Homophobes” by Evan J. Corbin

Post author:Eric Huffbind
Post published:February 11, 2021
Post category:Audiobook Review Tour Gay Book Promotions
Post comments:0 Comments

AUDIOBOOK TOUR

Book Title: Atonement Camp for Unrepentant Homophobes

Author: Evan J. Corbin

Publisher: Atonement Book, LLC

Narrator: Christopher Solon

Release Date: January 5, 2021

Genre: Contemporary M/M Romance, Speculative Fiction, Humour.

Trope/s: Closeted, homophobic protagonist who comes out of the closet

Themes: Coming out, atonement to one’s self, cultural assimilation

Heat Rating: 1 – 2 flames

Length: 6 hours and 46 minutes

Add on Goodreads

Buy Links

Audible US | Audible UK

Amazon US | Amazon UK

A homophobic preacher has a secret.

When Pastor Rick Harris is sent to a camp run by drag queens for society’s most irredeemable homophoboes, he confronts his identity and finds authenticity—both for himself and his community.

Blurb

The oldest translation of a Gospel is returned to the world by a secret society long dedicated to its preservation. In it, Jesus explicitly condemns bigotry and homophobia. In a new world in which LGBTQ passengers receive preferential boarding for flights and the United States has elected its first lesbian President, Pastor Rick Harris is stalwart, closeted preacher who doggedly holds onto his increasingly unpopular convictions.

When an incendiary sermon goes too far and offends an influential family, Rick makes a painful choice to keep his job: He attends an atonement camp run by drag queens for society’s most unrepentant and terminally incurable homophobes.

Atonement Camp is immersion therapy for Pastor Harris, and it might be working. An open bar with pedicures, a devastatingly attractive roommate and an endless supply of glitter help him manage to make new friends. Soon, Rick and his cohorts learn the camp may hold its own secrets. Amid the smiling faces and scantily clad pool boys who staff the camp, a clandestine group plots to discredit the New Revelation and everything it stands for.

If Rick has the conviction to confront his own hypocrisy, he might be able to uncover the conspirators with help from his adopted flock—and find new truths within himself.

CONTENT WARNING: This novel addresses issues related to the infliction of emotional abuse by a homophobic parent who suspects his son to be a homosexual. Separately, while not the author’s intent, some readers may interpret the story’s attempt to confront issues of religious hypocrisy as an assault on religion itself. No such conclusion is intended. Lastly, the novel follows a protagonist who, at times, uses hateful slurs to refer to members of the LGBTQ community. Such language is intended to give authenticity to a self-hating, closed member of that same community. Readers may appreciate the protagonist’s growth as he embraces his sexuality and reconciles himself with his faith.

About the Author

Evan is a member of the LGBTQ community who fancies himself as a playboy socialite, living in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. Between work and lucid moments of sobriety, he writes a little. His debut novel is a light-hearted work that still manages to confront religious hypocrisy and contemporary LGBTQ struggles to balance their loss of culture with new-found civil rights.

Social Media Links

Blog/Website | Instagram: @atonementbook | Facebook | Twitter: @evanjcorbin

Hosted by Gay Book Promotions

Follow the tour and check out the other blog posts and reviews here

BOOK BLAST: “Sex and the City Plotholes” by Nicole Taylor. Rafflecopter Giveaway Included! See entry link below:

Post author:Eric Huffbind
Post published:July 7, 2020
Post category:Book Blast Gay Book Promotions
Post comments:0 Comments

BOOK BLAST

Book Title: Sex and the City Plotholes

Author: Nicole Taylor

Cover Artist and Publisher: Nicole Taylor

Fiction or Non-Fiction: Non-Fiction

Genre/s: Humor

Trope/s: TV Plot and Character Flaws

Themes: TV Series Satire

Heat Rating: No sexual content.

Length: 65 000 words/ 206 pages

It is a standalone book.

Goodreads

Buy Links

Amazon US | Amazon UK | Amazon AU | booktopia | fishpond

Universal Link

“SATC is my religion, so I’m offended by this book. But fuck, it’s funny.” – Dario Holley, Gay Icon

Blurb

“I couldn’t help but wonder….”. If you cringed while watching Sex and the City but still can’t get enough of it, this is the book for you. A modern recap of this iconic television series, for diehard Sex and the City addicts.

“Sex and the City Plotholes” is a dryly hilarious summary of each of the ninety-four episodes and two movies of Sex and The City, an enormously popular American romantic comedy-drama which ran from 1998 to 2004. The show was ground-breaking in many ways. It introduced many plot features which had never been seen so openly on mainstream television, including sexual promiscuity, non-standard relationships, coarse language, fetishes, and homosexuality, to name a few. Enjoy discovering the multitude of flaws in the plotlines and characters, explored through the more politically correct 21st century lens.

Included are several “top ten” lists covering such subjects as “Ten Worst Dates” and “Ten Unresolved Plotlines”. You’ll also find Inane Dialogue, Miranda Moments and Best Quotes throughout.

Excerpt

Season 5

8 “I Love a Charade”

Carrie wears a terrible dress and worse hairstyle to a Hamptons wedding. We are assailed with mentions of “zsa zsa zsu”, a made-up term of speech that thankfully only lasts one episode. Berger shows up again, now single but no more likeable. Charlotte realises she has fallen for Harry, but is dismayed when he tells her it can never be because she’s not Jewish (which explains why he was OK with being a fuck buddy). Samantha demands Smarmy Richard, who she dumped a while ago, allow her to use his Hamptons house for a huge party. The SATC girls crack continual jokes about Bitsy von Muffling marrying the gayest man in New York.

The girls are off to a wedding, amidst their disbelief and amusement that Bobby Fine, a cabaret piano entertainer who tells his audience he wears pink caftans and a Peggy Lee wig in the privacy of his own home, is marrying Bitsy Von Muffling, a thin middle aged socialite with platinum hair. There is much consternation among the SATC girls about why they are getting married at all, but the general agreement is that it must be for companionship. Carrie bleats on about the zsa zsa zsu – the butterflies in your stomach you get when you’re in love – and how it couldn’t possibly exist in a gay/straight union. I’m already wishing zsa zsa zsu didn’t exist as vocabulary in the script.

In ongoing coincidences, Harry handled Bitsy’s divorce, so he’s invited to the wedding. He wants Charlotte to go with him, and as they are slowly progressing away from fuck buddies to something more, Charlotte agrees to go; but only if he waxes his back. He must have it done at the same place that butchered Samantha’s face peel, because after the wax his back looks as though it’s been grilled on a Broil King. We’ve all waxed our legs, haven’t we ladies? There should be no ongoing redness or welting, and certainly no pain after the procedure. Charlotte is horrified to see Harry’s back looking like breakfast bacon, but at least it’s hairless. She finds other things to complain about though: Harry’s shirt, his use of the word “tits” and his tendency to eat without caring about food on his face. Harry is characteristically good natured about it all. He’s slowly becoming my second favourite SATC lead cast member (after Miranda). Except for the teabag thing, but we’ll get to that.

On their way to the huge party that Samantha has decided to host at Richard’s house in the Hamptons, Jack Berger makes another appearance, just in time to create some drama in season 6. He rides badly on a motorcycle to the very same fast food joint where the SATC girls minus Charlotte are having lunch. It’s quite the coincidence. The motorcycle is an impulse purchase Berger made to get him through a breakup with the girlfriend Carrie was hopeful he would break up with. However, he’s not very confident in riding it, which makes me wonder how he got his license, and if he should really be riding it up to the Hamptons. Carrie invites him to Samantha’s party, and he knows the house because Berger has a Hamptons house as well. (So does Harry; have you noticed how many people have Hamptons houses on SATC?)

At the party, Carrie and Berger sit outside the house together on the grass and Carrie delivers a one-woman monologue about her last breakup and breakups in general, crapping on well long enough to make her seem a dozen kinds of crazy. Berger can’t get away fast enough, even pulling his jacket out from under Carrie so suddenly she tips sideways. Carrie, in her characteristic narcissistic way, has scared him off. I’m still waiting for someone to quote Lisa Kirk to Carrie:

“A gossip is one who talks to you about others; a bore is one who talks to you about himself; and a brilliant conversationalist is one who talks to you about yourself.”

It may have helped Carrie a little in life. Anyway, moving on to the actual wedding reception. Harry professes to Charlotte that he’s falling for her, but then follows up that he can never marry her because she’s not Jewish. They decide to just dance and figure it all out in season 6. Miranda is ruminating over her recent accidental sex with Steve (again!) and realises she may be falling for him too. Berger shows up yet again, invited that very day by the groom (because when you pay $500 a head for a lavish Hamptons wedding, it’s ok to ask random people on the street to attend on seven hours’ notice). Carrie keeps her mouth firmly shut, embarrassed by her earlier verbal haemorrhage, and they decide to date properly before their (spoiler) rocky relationship and spectacular breakup in season 6. Samantha isn’t falling in love with anyone, I’m relieved to say, because that’s enough love (or simulation thereof) for one episode.

Style note: I can’t even say how much I hate the dress and hair combo Carrie wears to the wedding. The other girls somehow always put it together for events, but Carrie is generally relied upon to wear unflattering frocks, like this one that is just a strapless gathered piece that looks like the towel you wear under your arms when you’re stripped off and about to get a massage. Don’t get me started on the hair.

About the Author

Nicole Taylor writes from Sydney, Australia, where Sex and the City reruns are a constant on Foxtel. In addition to her SATC addiction she has a Seinfeld addiction, a pole addiction (the kind you dance on) and two adorable cats who helpfully sit on her keyboard while she types. She has released an album of pop music called “Ambiguosexual” and is writing her next novel.

Author Link

Facebook Group

Giveaway

Enter the Rafflecopter Giveaway for a chance to win

one of 10 ebook copies of Sex and the City Plotholes.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Hosted by Gay Book Promotions

Follow the tour and check out the other blog posts here

REVIEW TOUR: “A Bit of Me” by Kent Lowe

Post author:Eric Huffbind
Post published:May 15, 2020
Post category:Gay Book Promotions Review Tour
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REVIEW TOUR

Book Title: A Bit of Me

Author: Kent Lowe

Publisher: Self Published

Cover Artist: Hocking Design Solutions Ltd

Release Date: March 27, 2020

Genre/s: Contemporary, LGBT Fiction, Coming of age, Bisexual, Humour, Own voices

Trope/s: Enemies to friends to lovers

Themes: Coming out, bisexual awakening, friendship, young love, gay for you.

Heat Rating: 3 flames

Length: 88 000 words/316 pages

It is a standalone story.

Add on Goodreads

Buy Links

Universal Link | Amazon US | Amazon UK

Excerpt

From Chapter 1

Wiping the sweat from his top lip, he tried to breathe in something other than stranger’s body heat. It was thick. Solid. Like the air had been stuck in the carriage for years. And he knew as the doors beeped shut behind him, the five-fifty-two to London was going to be one bastard of a journey.

‘Close one, Georgie boy.’

‘I know.’ Wheezing, George slipped into the seat next to Alfie and sucked in mouthfuls of the staleness. ‘Got held up at work.’

Truth was, it had nothing to do with his job. Being late wasn’t something George Taylor was good at. He was the fucking champion. Tell him where and when to meet and he’d be there. Twenty minutes after everybody else.

Dripping with sweat, he dragged the back of his wrist over his brow then yanked the neck of his T-shirt in an attempt to cool his clammy skin.

Sitting on the chav wagon for an hour was hell for him. The thought of being sat amongst thirty-odd strangers, most of whom had no idea of personal space, gave him full on anxiety. Actually doing it, made him want to vomit. But it was worth it. Nothing could bring him down. Not even a soap dodger with an allergy to antiperspirant. He was on his way to see Ellie. And that was all that mattered.

‘Babes, please tell me you’re not wearing that tonight.’ Aimee momentarily glanced away from her phone and winced at his muddy top. ‘Ells will actually kill you if you turn up in that.’

‘Course not. I’ve got my going out gear in here.’ George unzipped his torn rucksack to prove he’d packed a fresh set of clothes that morning. He hadn’t needed the reminder that Ellie would disapprove of his work gear. ‘I didn’t have time to change.’

‘Or wash by the smell of you.’ Aimee turned her nose away. ‘You look like you’re covered in-’

‘Shit!’ Alfie jabbed his elbow into George’s side. He was gawping at a blonde who had just boarded the train in a tight figure-hugging blue dress. ‘Look at the bounce on those things.’

Never one to encourage Alfie’s ogling of anyone with breasts, George made a point of rolling his eyes. He couldn’t help but notice the impressive chest on the blonde himself though.

‘She is hot.’ Alfie whistled, manspreading into George’s space.

Aimee peered up from her phone to give the woman the once-over. Possibly the twice-over by her look of disdain. She was one of the nicest, sweetest girls on the planet but other attractive females brought out the monster in her. ‘What? No way. She’s so basic.’

‘I don’t care if she’s basic, I’d motorboat the fuck out of those things,’ Alfie beamed, following it up with a wink George’s way.

‘The way you objectify women is gross.’ Aimee huffed, pulling at her neckline to show off her own bronzed and perky assets. ‘Besides, you can tell she’s a total bitch, just look at her eyebrows.’

George and Alfie shrugged in unison as Aimee continued to glare at the woman. Like she was sizing her up for a coffin. George had no idea what the woman’s eyebrows had to do with her being a bitch, but by the grimace plastered on her face, Aimee seemed adamant about it. She always insisted that she had a way of knowing those sorts of things, but George had yet to see any proof.

About the Author

“My English teacher in Year 11 once said that I’d either be a rent boy or a writer. I wasn’t successful at the first so thought I’d try the latter.”

Kent Lowe grew up in East London, spending most of his youth in Dagenham, before moving to Essex.

Being a daydreamer and somewhat of a loner, he found art and literature to be the perfect medium for his endless imagination. After finishing college, Kent went on to study a Fine Art degree where he moved from canvas to installation which reared his love for both visual and literary storytelling.

Kent has always had an affinity with animals, and growing up with a menagerie of creatures, he now has fish, an orange cat and four adorable dogs that make his chaotic world just that little more harmonic.

As an artist and writer, all of Kent’s works delve into humour, love and friendship.

Social Media Links

Facebook: @kentloweauthor | Twitter: @KLJLowe | Instagram

Hosted by Gay Book Promotions

Blog Tour for “Darkness Dawns” by Zakarrie Clarke. Rafflecopter Contest Giveaway included.

Post author:Eric Huffbind
Post published:February 11, 2019
Post category:Blog Tour Gay Book Promotions Kindle Unlimited
Post comments:12 Comments

BLOG TOUR

Book Title: Darkness Dawns

Author: Zakarrie Clarke

Publisher: MLR Press

Genre/s: Contemporary/Humour/MM/Disability (Blindness)

Length: 65 000 words/150 PDF pages

Release Date: February 1, 2019

It’s a novel with a sequel. The first 43 chapters form Darkness Dawns; it concludes on a HFN and the sequel completes the novel.

I’ve written both, but thought it best to split it, or it would be over 140 000 words long.

Add on Goodreads

Blurb

Darkness Dawns is a love story. It also tells the tale of one man’s war with himself, brought onto the battlefield of his blindness. Leo Ferrar suffers from diabetic retinopathy and lost his sight two years ago. Unable to bear the scrutiny of strangers or the impact of his blindness on those he loves, Leo has determined on shutting the world out ever since. This is the man Ben meets on his first day at work as Mr Ferrar’s care assistant.

A former heroin addict, Ben was sentenced to six months community service as punishment for his crimes by a judge entitled to condemn him to a seven-year stretch. Far too charming for his own welfare, Ben proves unaccountably brilliant at ‘bulldozing the blind’.

When fate sees fit to dispatch Ben to the home of the man he has dubbed Mr Ferrarcious; it is with the words of the last five unfortunates who’d dared darken Leo’s doorway ringing in his ears. A door that is opened by a man who might be Lord Byron himself. Drop dead gorgeous and as hot as hell, Leo Ferrar has the most beautiful eyes Ben has ever seen.

Never has an irony seemed so cruel. Nor fate so fortuitous.

Buy Links

Publisher – MLR

Amazon US Author Page

Amazon UK Author Page

Excerpt

Leo knew he should have opted to use the cane, instead of the arm Ben offered him for their unexpected walk. Should. Every time that word left someone’s lips, Leo wanted to scream; fists clenched in a screech of hopeless, helpless rage. The fact that everything he should do was For-His-Own-Benefit, made it so much worse, which was as ludicrous as it was true. Independence was the only thing he had left to aspire to. So, why the fuck did should rub Leo so raw it obliterated any inclination he may have had to do whatever it prefaced? He ought to want to do the things he should. But what if he tried…and failed? What if Leo couldn’t master any of them? Then he would lose even the hope that he might, one day, be able to. Even more galling, that loss would be down to him, because he was so bloody useless. He did want to show Ben that he was quite capable of managing…didn’t he? Very much, although why that mattered, Leo had no idea.

Why care what this latest in a long line of functioning eyeballs thought of him? It was probably more politic to say, ‘visually unimpaired’. Visually Impaired. Leo had to stifle the urge to punch people who described him thus. Impaired? Adj: weakened or damaged. Weak. Weakened. F’fucksakes. He was still chewing that particular wasp when Ben asked for his wrist.

Does he intend to lead me by it, as if I’m a toddler?

Leo found himself holding it out anyway. Christ knows why he was going along with all this. It was just that…being in Ben’s company was rather like sitting in the passenger seat of a snow plough driven by a drunk. Far preferable to standing in its path…and yet, somehow more appealing than staying behind, wherever the hell it was off to.

Nevertheless, he was still relieved when Ben clasped the proffered wrist—not to cart Leo off as he’d feared—but to plant his hand on top of Ben’s head. The fact that Leo could have changed the lightbulb without stretching a whole lot further, did seem to suggest he’d been addressing Ben’s nipples for the last half hour.

Quite how Ben then contrived to claim fault for something that was Leo’s mistake was less clear, but this was pulled off with such disarming charm, it would’ve been churlish to argue otherwise. Why the hell did the notion of calling Ben’s bluff feel as brutal a prospect as drowning his cat? If he had one, of course. Cat? More to the point…nipples?

“Thank you,” Leo managed to mumble, which was something of a result itself. Half an hour with Ben and he’d started to feel several sandwiches short of the proverbial picnic. He’d also begun to suspect that Violet had been a sweet little old lady—and quite sane—when she’d met Ben.

So off they went. The blindingly daft leading the blind off on a stroll around Camden.

In a bid to distract himself from well, pretty much everything he’d thought for the last five minutes, Leo decided to ask Ben to describe himself. For some reason he was intrigued, not only to know what Ben looked like, but to hear the picture he drew. Leo had an inkling this would prove more unmissable than an aural tour around the National Portrait Gallery. Unmissable? It was a bloody masterpiece. There most definitely were not any renderings of Steptoe’s six-four daughter there. The last two years might have felt a damn sight less soul-destroying if Ben had voiced Leo’s DVD visual descriptions.

Walking outside had lost all its appeal when the world became a giant landmine lying in wait to blow up in Leo’s face; every step into the unknown, a potential public humiliation. Despite this, and Ben’s partiality to lamp posts, they somehow arrived in Gloucester Crescent, alive and well. Even more shocking, was that Leo hadn’t fretted about…anything really, along the way. He’d just drifted along, listening to Ben weave words too beguiling to question where embellishment waved farewell to the truth. But who the fuck would want to, when that would feel as blasphemous as punching a fist through a Picasso?

About the Author

When Zakarrie was little and dreamed big, she wanted to be a writer. Just like Enid Blyton. Or p’raps not…having been most remiss on the lashings of ginger beer front. After moving to London at eighteen and flitting about for far too long, she finally settled, as blissy as can be, by the sea. When her castaway dreams resurfaced, they were believed into being by the warm words of friends who breathed life into her own. Her one wish now is that someone, somewhere, might enjoy the misadventures of her miscreants as much as she adores writing them.

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