His Perfect Twink by Megan Slayer

General Release Date: 21st February 2023

Word Count: 44,557
Book Length: SHORT NOVEL
Pages: 186

GENRES:

BILLIONAIRE
BONDAGE AND BDSM
CONTEMPORARY
EROTIC ROMANCE
GAY
GLBTQI

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Book Description

Can the twink accept the billionaire’s terms and risk his heart?

Demetrius Ford believes he’s not meant to be loved. His wealth tends to bring out the worst in people, so he doesn’t have high hopes when he visits Boys Club. Then he meets Todd and everything changes.

Todd Giddings came to Boys Club to escape the street. He’s young, but he’s been through a lot. He’s world-weary and tired of playing the game at Boys Club. Why play with the crowd when you could have love instead? When he answers Demetrius’ ad, he’s convinced his life will change, but can he accept Demetrius’ terms and risk his heart?

The twink and the billionaire doesn’t seem like it should work, but it might be exactly what they both need…

Reader advisory: This book includes references to sex work, inadequate parenting, and attempted blackmail.

Excerpt

“God, I need a good fuck.” Demetrius Ford looked over the spreadsheets then pushed the tablet aside. He didn’t give a shit about numbers or tag lines. He had people to keep tabs on his various accounts and didn’t need to dip in to ensure things were flowing correctly. He could sit back and enjoy the spoils of his work and it was high time he got what he wanted instead of worrying about making everyone else happy.

Demetrius wanted affection. Hell, he could buy someone for that, but he’d rather be loved for himself, not his bank account.

Finley Rooker, his friend and drinking buddy, strode into his office. “You look like shit. What’s your problem?”

“Nothing.” Demetrius remained behind his desk. “Is it Wednesday already?” He checked his phone. He had fifteen missed calls, a dozen or so emails and more texts than he cared to handle. “I have people to answer this phone and reply to emails, but they seem to be dropping the ball. Why am I paying them? I just added a dozen people to the payroll.”

“Because they aren’t working fast enough for you and they love to annoy you.” Finley poured himself three fingers of scotch. “At least you’ve got the cabinet stocked.”

“I knew you’d be by.” Eventually. Finley loved scotch as much as he loved sex. Finley was fine-looking, but not Demetrius’ type. He was a former football player, with broad shoulders and a narrow waist. He spent too much time in the gym and always worried about how he looked. “How would you like to be my second-in-command?” He trusted his friend and he needed help he could rely on. “The Cleveland office is fine, Detroit is, too, but Pitt needs someone with a firm hand and Cincy just expanded. We’re getting into St. Louis, Indy and Chicago, too. You love to travel. Want the job?”

“I do and you can afford me.” Finley shrugged. “All I’ve gotta do is report to you every so often? I can do that. I’ve been out of the game for too long and I want back in. Yeah, I’ll do it.”

“Good.” That settled that. Demetrius needed to order some more wine and have his penthouse redecorated, but he’d worry about that later. “Have you been to the clubs lately?”

“Too much. Why?” Finley sat across from him. “Do you want to club?”

“I’ve thought about it.” Fuck. Demetrius was forty-five, single, out and needed sex. Where else should he go? It wasn’t like he was meeting guys at work.

“What do you want to do?” Finley sipped the scotch. “Fuck, be fucked, suck, play or watch?”

“You’re blunt.” Which was why they were friends.

“You expect less?”

“No.” What did he want? “I want a boy.”

“Twink?”

“Yes. Someone who understands commands. Someone who wants to be controlled. You know, can take commands and follow directions. Someone who looks hot and would be good for a night out, but will also cooperate and not see me as just a blank check.”

Finley snorted. “You don’t want much.”

“Is that bad?” Demetrius preferred being up front with his needs.

“No.” Finley chuckled. He swirled the amber liquid around his glass. “It means you’ve been around and aren’t falling for bullshit.”

“That’s true.” He’d bought boyfriends, sold them, traded and no one seemed to fit. He’d even tried to get a guy to fake date him, but no dice.

Jesus. He’d made ten million dollars last year and couldn’t get a date. Wouldn’t the press love to know that?

“What if I told you I know a place where you can find the kind of guy you want? It’ll cost you, but it’s worth every dollar.”

“Oh?” He folded his hands on his desk. “I’m listening.” He couldn’t wait to hear what Finley had to say.

“It’s called Boys Club—I didn’t name it so don’t bust my ass. Anyway, you go there, feel it out and see what they have to offer. When you see what you want, you place an ad. Whoever responds, that’s who you pick from. You weed out the ones you don’t like and take the ones you do.”

Finley finished his scotch, then poured another three fingers. “I’ve met a few guys there. If you’re interested, I’ll be your sponsor and get you in. You pay the cover charge and joining fee.”

“Which is?” Demetrius was certainly intrigued.

“Cover charge is a grand because they don’t mess around,” Finley said. “The joining fee is five grand because the idea is that you’re paying to find what you want one time and then you’ll move on.”

“Except that you’re still visiting. You’re still going. Haven’t you found what you want?”

“I can’t decide between a few,” Finley said with a sheepish grin. “I like too many.”

“You do.” He’d never heard of this club, but the fees didn’t scare him. Hell, he made both fees in ten minutes at one of his offices. And if he could find the right guy…then the money would be well spent. “You say you’ll get me in? My name isn’t enough to do that?” He hated using his name for attention. It was too pushy for his tastes.

“You can use your name, but they don’t care. This isn’t about fame or notoriety.” Finley wriggled his brows. “It’s about finding what you need. Besides, you have to know someone to get in. They don’t want just anyone joining.”

“Not at five grand they don’t.”

“True. They cater to men of means.”

“Ah. When can we go?” Demetrius wanted to get his search going as soon as he could. He had a dinner date in a week and didn’t want to attend alone. He hated having to keep showing up at things single.

“How about tonight? I’ve been meaning to go and couldn’t find the time, but I’d go with you.” Finley sipped his replenished scotch. “I could use a good time for the evening. Maybe even a sub.”

“A sub?” He’d known Finley for over twenty years and never pegged him as a Dom. “You play?”

“Have for years—just like you.”

Demetrius didn’t advertise his kinks. “How did you guess?”

“It’s in the way you carry yourself. You’re so polished and pressed. Every detail is correct and you never have a hair out of place. Everything is perfect. You’ve got stick-straight posture and I’ve never seen you with your tie loosened. If there isn’t precision, you’re not happy.” Finley shrugged. “I admire your ability to be rigid. If you’d get rid of those pesky grays at your temples, you’d look twenty years younger. Or is that the deal? You want to be a daddy?”

“Christ, no.” He’d have to take care of the grays. He needed to look just so for his image and business. When he found the right sub, he’d loosen up a bit…but just for him. “I need my regimentation. People expect it from me.”

“And you need it from your sub, too. But since you don’t have one…you’re unhappy.” Finley nodded and left his chair. He held up the glass. “I’ll be by at eight sharp. Join me for the adventure and you won’t regret it. It’ll be a great time.”

“I know it will be.”

“Good. I’ll be around with the car at eight.” Finley finished his drink. “You do have the best booze. Now you just need a boy to serve it.”

“I do.” A twink would be perfect. “See you.”

“Later.”

He waited for the door to shut before he picked up his tablet and researched the club. He found nothing. Not a site, not a mention, nothing.

What was this place? He’d never run into something he couldn’t research, buy and control. If he wanted something, he should be able to take it.

And another thing…why did Finley have to be so observant? Demetrius didn’t wear his desires on his sleeve. He didn’t tell everyone he loved control. No, he needed control. But he hadn’t mentioned to anyone he wanted a sub or a twink. He wanted to look and feel young, sure, and being with the right twink would do that for him, but the person would be the best partner for him, too. That’s what he needed–someone who suited him. He needed the image of youth and vitality, but also to not be alone.

God. He spent too much time left to his own devices. He needed balance in his life. Sure, he had the cash, the status and the lifestyle, but he required the right guy, too.

He shoved the tablet away and leaned back in his seat. He’d find out about the club tonight. Maybe he would find a boy. It couldn’t hurt to look.

Not a bit.

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About the Author

Megan Slayer

Megan Slayer, aka Wendi Zwaduk, is a multi-published, award-winning author of more than one-hundred short stories and novels. She’s been writing since 2008 and published since 2009. Her stories range from the contemporary and paranormal to LGBTQ and BDSM themes. No matter what the length, her works are always hot, but with a lot of heart. She enjoys giving her characters a second chance at love, no matter what the form. She’s been the runner up in the Kink Category at Love Romances Café as well as nominated at the LRC for best author, best contemporary, best ménage and best anthology. Her books have made it to the bestseller lists on Amazon.com.

When she’s not writing, Megan spends time with her husband and son as well as three dogs and three cats. She enjoys art, music and racing, but football is her sport of choice.

Find out more about Megan on her website, and sign up for the newsletter here. You can also check out her Blog, Amazon Author Page, Bookbub and Instagram.

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Brewed Hope by Emma Penny

Book 2 in the Orders to Haunt series

General Release Date: 14th February 2022

Word Count: 43,207
Book Length: SHORT NOVEL
Pages: 167

Genres:

CONTEMPORARY
EROTIC ROMANCE
MÉNAGE AND MULTIPLE PARTNERS
PARANORMAL
REVERSE HAREM

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Book Description

Four brewery owners. Two ghosts. Unofficial orders to haunt.

Brewery owners Marco, Bryson, Shawn and Ayden have been friends for years, but their business is floundering. In desperation, Marco makes a formal request to Madeline for orders to haunt his friends and repair the business. All he wants is to bring his family together again.

Audrey is Madeline’s wild card. Although she’d previously fired her from The Order, Madeline brings Audrey back in an unofficial capacity. In desperate need of income, Audrey takes a job at the brewery to go undercover and help Marco haunt his friends.

Audrey has a new brew to craft—hope.

Excerpt

Audrey

I cannot roll my eyes harder. My sister is ridiculously in love, and while it’s adorable, it’s equally annoying. She and Mom are chattering away, and it’s all I can do to ignore them by sitting on the couch and flipping through random television shows.

They squeal about something, and I shift to face Dad and stop. Cool blue eyes stare at me—that perfectly rounded face, full, red-painted lips and dark loose curls hanging below her shoulder. I sit up straight immediately, every hair on my arms and neck standing straight up.

“Madeline,” I say under my breath like it’s a curse.

The room stills, Stephanie and Mom quieting as they hear my voice. I can’t tear my gaze from Madeline. I never thought I would see her again, not after she tossed me on my ass when I failed my training. It had been awful.

Madeline nods at Steph and Mom but turns her focus directly on me. “Got a minute?”

My stomach is in absolute knots. My voice catches in my throat, and I have no idea what to say. I don’t want her here, not after the embarrassment I left in.

“It’s nothing bad,” Madeline adds, as if she can sense my apprehension, which I suppose she can. She knows everything. She knows what happened six months ago, she knows how I stormed out of The Order with fire on my heels and she knows that I am not anyone she wants working orders. She told me as much.

“Audrey?” Mom asks, as if she she’s going to protect me from this big bad witch.

I try to shift a glance to her, but I can’t tear my gaze from the woman standing in front of me. I curl my fingers into a fist, nails biting into the skin of my palm until I have some wits about me. “I’m fine, Mom.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.” Pushing myself upward to stand, I eye Madeline carefully. “Only place to meet in private is my bedroom.”

I didn’t want to push it and suggest we talk at The Order. That’d be laughable—me walking back into that place as if nothing had happened. Snorting at the thought, I drag my feet forward until I’m inches from her. As is our custom, I grab her wrist and ghost from the living room to my bedroom. Standing inches from her is even more unnerving than when she’s staring directly at me. Never thought that would happen. None of this. Ever.

I shut the door, hoping it’ll give us at least some privacy. Turning around, I wring my hands together before stopping. I can’t show her how weak I am. “What do you want?”

Madeline sighs and shifts to sit on the edge of my mattress. She looks so out of place in my messy room with the unicorn comforter and unicorn stuffies I refuse to get rid of.

“I’m not here to accost you.”

“Could have fooled me.” Why I’m giving her attitude, I have no clue—but it’s probably not going to help my case any. “Again, I ask, what do you want?”

“I’ve some orders I thought you might be interested in.”

“You fired me,” I respond through clenched teeth. “What the hell kind of orders could you have for me?”

Madeline’s lips thin before she pulls them in a half-smile that is no doubt forced. “Would you relax? I’m only here to try to repair this.”

“There’s nothing to repair. It was severed.”

“There are factors at play that you don’t know about. You didn’t fail in your orders as badly as we told you. You were only off by two marks, and if we had the funds to hire another ghost, you would have been allowed to reapply. However, that’s not the case. I’m here with orders to haunt, if you would like them, but they will not be paid by me.”

“So this is me being volun-told to work a job I was fired from?” I raise a skeptical eyebrow at her.

Madeline shakes her head. “No. I would have very much liked to hire you, Audrey. You would be an excellent asset to The Order.”

“You. Fired. Me.” I spell it out slowly because it doesn’t seem like she’s understanding.

“Yes, but if I’d had another choice at the time, I would have made it.”

I narrow my eyes, anger still boiling in my belly. “Why should I work for you—on the side, without pay?”

“Because you are excellent at what you do, which is causing people to think differently about the world around them in unique and creative ways. I always admired your creativity.”

I scoff, walking to plop onto the mattress next to her. “Never seemed like it.”

She waves her hand. “Persona. Please, I mean what I’m saying.”

“What’s the job?”

“Do you know Bams Brewery?”

I nod. I’ve been there a time or two. Decent beer. Nice atmosphere. Asshole manager.

“They need a haunting.”

“All of them?”

“The four owners, specifically. Marco is one of us, so he will assist, but he also needs his own lesson in there, which is where I need your creativity. He has agreed to hire you on, so you will be paid.”

“Hire me for what?”

“Something at the brewery. Something to your skills.”

“I don’t know how to make beer.” I wrinkle my nose.

“You’ll find something. Would you consider it?”

“What’s in it for me, Madeline? Because, honestly, I don’t relish the idea of doing you a favor, which it seems like this is, without knowing why I’m doing it or what I’m doing it for.”

Madeline falls silent. I’m not sure what she’s thinking, but she is contemplating deeply. “The Order is changing, drastically, and it won’t be what your parents remember much longer. I need allies for what it will be when these changes are made.”

“So let me get this right. You fired me, then you want me as your ally?”

She gives a weak smile. “Yes. If you’ll accept.”

“I’ll accept these orders, because, frankly, I need the paycheck, but beyond that? I have no idea. You’re going to have some explaining to do.”

“All in good time. Since you’ve accepted, you’ll need to contact Marco and create a plan. The rest is left up to you two.” Without another word, she’s gone.

Sitting alone in my room, I stare at the wall and shake my head. What the fuck was that? Never in my life have I heard of such a thing, but she knew exactly who to come to. I’ll do anything to get back in the good graces of The Order. I ghost downstairs after changing into a clean pair of jeans and a tight shirt. Mom and Steph look at me curiously. I shrug.

“It was harmless.” I hope I’m right on that.

“What did she want?” Mom asks.

I shake my head. “She didn’t really want anything—at least, she didn’t insist on anything.”

“Madeline doesn’t just show up for nothing,” Steph adds, her eyes widening.

Shrugging, I chug the last of my beer I’d left opened and grin at them. “I’m off.”

In two seconds, I’m standing outside a small apartment I’ve never seen before. At least Madeline had given me that information. Number four-zero-six. Canting my head to the side, I listen to see if he’s home. Unlike Madeline, I’m not an asshole, so I shift into my corporeal form, make a fist and knock on the steel door. Fixing a grin on my lips, I wait to see what greets me.

Marco is insanely handsome. Madeline put me right in his lap, too, and I’m pretty sure I’m going to be putty. His black hair is slicked to the side, combed perfectly and gelled. I just want to stick my hands in it and mess it up. Rubbing my fingers together, I barely resist the idea. His lips are full, which is incredibly sexy on a man. I nearly moan as the thought of pulling his lower lip between my teeth shudders through me.

“Who are you?” he says, his voice wary but also deep.

Fuck, he’s sex on a stick. Madeline is an evil, evil woman for this one. I’m going to get revenge for this. “I’m Audrey.”

“All right.” He raises an eyebrow at me and shifts to block the door. “And who are you exactly?”

“Oh.” I flush, realizing Madeline had left out some very important information for both of us. “Madeline sent me…about the orders to haunt.”

Marco shushes me, grabs me by the wrist and drags me into his apartment. “You can’t be saying that out loud. My neighbors will hear you!”

I squint at him. “Then you need new neighbors.”

“Why didn’t you just ghost in here?”

Putting my hands on my hips, I face him down. “Because I’m not an asshole, and I respect privacy.”

Marco frowns. “What exactly did Madeline tell you?”

“That you’ll pay me.”

Marco’s lips thin. “We will.”

“What will I be doing?”

“Bartending and waitressing.”

“It’s usually one or the other, not both.” He looks cute when he’s frazzled, and I can’t help myself from pushing at him more.

“It’s both.”

“So what’s the pay?”

“Minimum plus tips.”

I whistle my surprise. “No wonder you can’t keep anyone employed.”

Marco pouts. “Who told you that?”

“I’ve been to your brewery before, Marco, and I’ve seen the employees come and go. Now I know why.”

Sighing, he collapses onto his couch. “The main reason is Bryson. He’s going to be the one you have to work through to get hired.”

“Oh, so this isn’t even guaranteed pay? I’m out.” I start to ghost, but he’s quick. He’s on his feet, grabbing my wrist and dragging me back. “What?”

“Don’t go. I…I need this to happen.”

Clenching my jaw, I give him a hard stare. “Why?”

Marco softens, his entire demeanor changing. He looks so broken. My heart shatters for him, as I see his struggle, the pain this is causing. Sliding up against him, I wrap him in a quick hug.

“Fine, I’ll help. Tell me how to get this job.”

We talk for hours, and he goes from confident to nervous every five minutes it seems, though, he does have good insight into those he works with. It’s after midnight when weariness creeps over me, the events of the day and being thrust into orders I’m not sure are actual orders finally weighing me down. But I don’t know how to leave Marco. First and foremost, he seems lonely, which for a guy who started a business with his three college friends shouldn’t be the case.

Reaching out, I brush my fingers against his arm to get his attention. “It’s getting late.”

Marco nods. “Right. I shouldn’t have kept you.”

“No, it was good.” I give him a gentle smile. I’m not lying. I enjoyed spending the time with him, getting to know him and his friends better. This is going to be one of the best orders I have ever worked, and even if this isn’t a real case, I’m going to see it through—not only to get back into Madeline’s good graces but also for the cold hard cash I really need.

He stares into my eyes, and for a second, I think he might kiss me. I wouldn’t be opposed to the idea, but I’ve only known him for a few hours at this point. He’s adorable and handsome, but this is business. If he wants more—or if I do, for that matter—we need to properly talk about it. Leaning in, I press my lips to his cheek to try to ward off any awkwardness.

“I’ll see you tomorrow at the open interviews.”

He grins. “Yes, later today actually.”

I snort lightly. “Today, then.”

Kissing his cheek again, I ghost into my bedroom. I’m thankful to find it blissfully empty and quiet, though I’m sure Mom and Steph are going to hound me with a million more questions as soon as they can find me. I’m not sure what to tell them. Madeline didn’t swear me to secrecy, but if she’s right and The Order is in for dramatic changes, I don’t know if anyone is going to be happy about it.

Stripping naked, I slide under my unicorn blanket and close my eyes, turning the side lamp by my bed off. I need to sleep so I can have my wits about me tomorrow. Bryson is apparently a beast in the form of a handsome man, and Marco warned me I was going to need to be prepared to pass the interview test. Luckily, Marco was going to help me cheat and gave me some clues as to what might happen. Smiling to myself, I turn on my side and close my eyes. I fall into sleep thinking of the handsome man I’d just met.

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About the Author

Emma Penny

Emma Penny is a millennial living in the US. She often moves and loves experiencing new adventures and letting her mind wander to new possibilities. She currently lives north of Denver, CO and has fallen in love with writing steamier romance. Emma started writing when she was a teenager and has never looked back from the creative side of her life. She particularly loves to explore worlds beyond the believable, worlds that stretch her imagination but still root her in the very real personalities of her characters and their relationships.

Follow Emma on Instagram, Facebook, Twitter and find her at her website.

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Dupli-Kinked by M.C. Roth

General Release Date: 14th February 2023

Word Count: 77,652
Book Length: NOVEL
Pages: 282

Genres:

ACTION AND ADVENTURE
BONDAGE AND BDSM
CONTEMPORARY
CRIME
EROTIC ROMANCE
GAY
GLBTQI
MAFIA/GANGS
THRILLERS AND SUSPENSE

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Book Description

Sometimes the one right path is actually two.

Copley is fresh out of a relationship with his former roommate and has only one place to go—to the wrong side of town to his brother Sauble’s crumbling apartment. He has no idea that his path puts him in the middle of a new world where owing someone money can get you killed.

When Nikita is sent to collect Sauble’s gambling debt, Copley is the only one home. Instead of being terrified of the massive and tattooed gangster, Copley is drawn to Nikita in a way he never has been with anyone.

But Nikita isn’t the only one who has set his sights on Copley. Nikita’s twin brother Maxim wants to claim Copley as his own.

Copley has to decide if he’s going to submit or be pulled to pieces by the two men who are feared beyond city limits.

Reader advisory: This book contains scenes of violence and humiliation.

Excerpt

Copley

The ring burned a hole through the pocket of his jeans, drawing his attention with every step. It was supposed to be a symbol of his love, which had simmered for three years and burned bright for another two. Instead, it was the sole representation of his humiliation.

He’d been so excited when he’d strolled into the jewelry store while wearing his best dress shirt and a pair of slacks that had fit him just right. He dressed well for his work, but he’d never really worn something truly expensive before.

He’d kept his jaw sewn tight as he looked at the price tags on every ring, going from glass case to glass case until he’d finally found the dismal selection targeted for men. A simple gold band had barely been within his budget, but he’d needed something. He hadn’t been able to go another moment without telling Spencer how he felt about him.

They’d hardly spoken during the whispered moments at night when they had lain together in the most intimate embrace. But what was he supposed to say to someone who had started as his roommate but had stolen his heart instead?

It had all begun so innocently as a way to blow off steam. The tension had seemed to build as soon as they’d settled in as roommates, even though they’d been strangers at the time. Outside the apartment, they’d become friends who were perhaps more affectionate than most, but as soon as the apartment door had closed behind them, their walls had come down.

Spencer had been his. He would slip into Copley’s bed and lie with him until the sun peeked through his bedroom curtains when he had to roll out and go to work with his ass aching and his lips still bruised from their kisses.

“Copley, come back to bed.”

How many times had he fallen for that? How many sick days had passed with them in bed as they kissed and made love until they simply couldn’t anymore?

That was why the ring had been so important, and why he’d purchased the simple gold band from the clerk, who had given him a slightly disappointed look, as if he should have spent thousands instead of hundreds.

He was in love, but he still had to eat.

His heart had been ready to pound out of his chest by the time he’d arrived home, pulling the ring from the tiny box and clutching it in his hand. He had bitten his tongue, pushing himself through the door before he could chicken out.

And everything had come crashing down.

He’d grabbed his packed bag from his side of the bed, wiping the tears from his cheeks before he’d fled the apartment with Spencer staring after him looking so confused and concerned that it had nearly broken his heart a second time.

The bag was heavy on his shoulder, thumping against his back as he took practiced steps toward the main street. He’d packed light for the second part of his would-be surprise—a camping trip just for the two of them.

The bag contained a single change of clothes with one tent and an extra-large sleeping bag that would have zipped around them just right. It was the perfect way to celebrate a new engagement.

Only he’d been wrong from the very beginning. While Copley had been falling in love for five wonderful years, Spencer hadn’t felt a thing. Their stress relief had been just that and nothing more to him—which was why Spencer had introduced him to his girlfriend while Copley had clutched the ring in his hand like some clueless idiot.

Wiping his cheeks with the back of his hand, Copley looked out onto the street and the zooming traffic that was slowly starting to thin. For a gloomy fall Saturday, the road was surprisingly busy, with people rushing here and there as they prepared for winter.

It would have been near freezing in the tent on their impromptu trip, and they would have had to snuggle so close to share their bodily warmth, fogging the air as they breathed each other in.

Copley sobbed, cupping his hand over his mouth as he stumbled to the nearest bench. He sagged onto the slatted wood frame, dropping his pack as he pressed his face into his hands. A wail seeped past his lips as his chest pulled so tight that he wondered how he could still breathe.

“You okay?”

Sniffing, Copley turned to the man next to him, who looked rather startled at his new bench mate. His hair was gray, a few age spots peeking from under his waterproof cap that matched the poncho around his shoulders.

“Yeah.” Copley sniffed, wiping his hands over his face to try to squish the sobs at the source. It didn’t quite work, but the stranger’s eyes on him stalled his tears where they were. He’d already humiliated himself enough for one day.

“I get like that on rainy days, too, sometimes.” The stranger tipped his cap as he gazed up at the cloudy sky. “Not sure if it’s the best weather for camping, though, son.” He eyed Copley’s bag and the sleeping bag nearly bursting from its packaging. “It’s going to be a mighty cold one tonight, and you don’t look like you’re dressed for it. I can feel a storm brewing in my bones.”

Copley’s lips twitched in the briefest of smiles as he let out a breath. “You sound just like my mother. ‘Don’t forget your sweater, Copley.’” He shook his head, pulling his arms around himself as a gust of wind stripped him of warmth. The guy was right, though. In his haste, he hadn’t grabbed a jacket, and with the nightfall only a short time away, it was already starting to get chilly.

“Sounds like a wise woman, like my Nancy. I would forget my pants if my wife didn’t remind me every morning.” He smiled, rubbing his hand over his knobby knee and grimacing. “I’m surprised she even lets me take the bus anymore. Some days it’s just nice to meet new people, but she’s more of a homebody. Always was.”

Smiling through the last of his tears, Copley leaned against the bench and shuddered as another wind gust swept over him. The blue and yellow bus sign blared above his head, but there were no vehicles in sight. The routes went every fifteen minutes in the city, and he could hop from one to the next with his eyes closed. He’d never even thought of having his own car before.

“Where are you headed, son? Up toward Forrest Lake? Or maybe down by the flats? We used to party there in my day. Don’t tell my Nancy, but there were quite a few ladies that liked to tag along, if you know what I mean. I played football back then. Nothing like a bit of pigskin to get the fire started.”

Copley blinked, chuckling awkwardly as he looked around for an escape. Listening to an old man talk about his young and straight escapades was slightly awkward, if he were honest. He didn’t want to be rude, but that generation tended to be a tad…ungentlemanly to him when they found out he was attracted to men.

“I wouldn’t know, actually. And as for where I’m headed…? I haven’t figured that out yet.” I couldn’t catch a football if it was covered in glue.

He looked to the bus sign. Route fifteen looped around the north side of town before it hit low-income housing and some spots that he didn’t dare step into while he was dressed the way he was. As much as he tried to be open-minded and non-judgmental, he clutched his keys tighter when he passed by graffiti or a few gang members on a corner.

“Well, this bus will take you to some of the best spots,” said the old man, tugging his cap back over his brow as the sun peeked out one final time before clouds consumed it again. It was starting to get low in the sky, bronze blushing to pinks and reds as a few lamplights buzzed to life.

“My Nancy was raised on South Street, just next to the old inn. Not much to it now, but in its glory, it was a beautiful place. Do you know it?” He looked to Copley, his bushy eyebrows scrunching as he slowly blinked.

“I do. I was raised up that way, actually,” said Copley, tugging his shirt tighter around his belly as a raindrop landed on his knee. The rain was cold, sinking straight to his skin as a second drop landed on the bench next to him.

He had been raised near Highbury Street, which was only two blocks from South, and he knew exactly why he shouldn’t travel there. He remembered the noises in the night and the shouts that had kept him awake. His mother and pop had done their best to raise him and his brother and keep them safe in that neighborhood, but sometimes he wondered how he’d ever made it out.

When he’d been old enough, he’d left the neighborhood behind, and his parents had followed shortly after, only they had moved so far south that he rarely saw them in person anymore.

“My brother is still down that way, actually. He’s in the old apartment building near the corner of Highbury…the one with the yellow brick and the steeples,” said Copley. The brick had been all but crumbling the last time Copley had seen it, the shingles on the peaked roof barely hanging on.

“That’s the old McGuire place. He used to own the old bus line in town before it went out of business. Committed suicide not long after that, and his wife went into a nunnery.”

“Oh dear,” said Copley, trying to keep his face blank. Do nunneries still exist? He used to watch The Sound of Music with his mother all the time, and he still knew the songs by heart. The man nodded, his mouth set into a grim line.

“We lost a lot of good men to things like that back then. Not so much now with people my age, but then, half of them aren’t alive anymore, anyway. There are only two people left from my high school graduating class.” He let out a long sigh, finally stilling his hand where he rubbed at his knee. “But I should be going before Nancy sends the search party out for me. I hope you find your way, son.”

The old man stood with a groan, his shoulders stooped as he grabbed the cane that was sitting next to the bench. “And be careful in that part of town. There are a lot of sons of bitches out there.” He walked off, slowly shuffling his feet against the sidewalk.

Copley looked to his pocket where he could still feel the ring like a blazing halo of misfortune. He wasn’t close to feeling any better, but at least he had a touch of perspective.

“Well, I guess I know where I’m headed.”

He grabbed his bag as the bus pulled up to the stop and parked with a burst of air brakes before the doors swung wide. Stepping inside, he clutched the strap of his pack as he paid and slipped into a seat near the front. He hadn’t seen his brother in years, so he was woefully overdue. Hopefully, he had a couch that still had its cushions where Copley could sleep.

He let out a sigh as his eyes began to burn again, his tears budding afresh as he looked back to the bench and his neighborhood. It’s going to be a long night.

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About the Author

M.C. Roth

M.C. Roth lives in Canada and loves every season, even the dreaded Canadian winter. She graduated with honours from the Associate Diploma Program in Veterinary Technology at the University of Guelph before choosing a different career path.

Between caring for her young son, spending time with her husband, and feeding treats to her menagerie of animals, she still spends every spare second devoted to her passion for writing.

She loves growing peppers that are hot enough to make grown men cry, but she doesn’t like spicy food herself. Her favourite thing, other than writing of course, is to find a quiet place in the wilderness and listen to the birds while dreaming about the gorgeous men in her head.

Find out more about M.C. Roth at her website.

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