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All the Right Places by Wayne Goodman
Wayne Goodman has a new gay spec fic/romance/historical fiction short story collection out: āAll the Right Places.ā
Publisher: waynegoodmanbooks
Cover Artist: Wayne Goodman
Release Date: March, 2020
Length: 46k words / 228 pages
Pairing / Genre: M/M, short stories, speculative fiction, romance, historical fiction, gay, collection, LGBTQ, queer
Blurb
“All the Right Places” is a collection of short stories, most written for submission to anthologies or collections. Starting in the near future and proceeding to the near past, men interact with other men in the pursuit of love and companionship.
Excerpt
Rumpspringa
Gary had never seen the likes of the boy who just walked into Mixer, one of the more recent bars to open in Chelsea. He had a farm-hewn look, like he just stepped down from a tractor clenchĀing a dried stalk of wheat grass between his teeth.
Something about this stranger seemed intriguing, invitĀing, alĀluring. So out-of-place in this ultra-modern wash of dark walls, neon strip lights and fake smoke. The designer had set up the enĀtrance so that each person walkĀing in would emerge into the main room from a cloud of fog, like walking out of a dream.
And this seemed much like a dream to Gary. A hayseed hick in a ļ¬ashy lower Manhattan gay bar. The kind of thing he used to watch at home on video late at night when he couldnāt make a good connection at the bar. Just like in the dream, or video, the bucolic lad walked up to him.
āHello, Iām Elmo,ā the farm boy thrust out his rough-looking right hand, presumably to shake with Gary. UnforĀtunately, the surprisingly-diļ¬erent name sent him into a giggle ļ¬t. āDid I say something wrong? Iām awfully sorry if I did. Perhaps I should just leave now.ā Elmo turned to go.
āNo, wait, Elmo,ā Gary managed to blurt out before he started laughing again, almost spilling the pricey drink he had fought the jaded crowd to purchase. The liquid in the glass glowed blue in the light of the plexiglass bartop. āCan I buy you a drink? Are you even old enough to be in here?ā
The farm boy had a very fresh and youthful appearance, except for the roughness of his palms. Elmo gazed down into those work-worn hands before responding, āI am not in the habit of accepting charity from strangers, but,ā and he glanced up at Garyās shirt and then his face, āI believe I am prepared to try something new toĀnight. Oh, and yes, I just turned 21 last week. What are you drinking, sir?ā
āA Blue Moon,ā Gary responded as he pointed his free hand at the glass. āTwo thingsāāhe held up two ļ¬ngersāāFirst oļ¬, this is not a drink for rank beginners, and two, if you call me āsirā again, the dealās oļ¬.ā Elmo looked down. āHey, up here, man. My name is Gary.ā
Elmo looked up and smiled. āThank you⦠Gary.ā
And Gary returned the smile. Possible fantasy scenarios began to form in his overcharged imagination. āDo you like beer?ā
āOf course!ā Elmoās smile widened. āWe have all kinds of beer at home: Apple Beer, Ginger Beer, Root Beer āā
āDo any of them have alcohol?ā Gary interrupted.
āOh, no,ā his moppy head shook side to side, āweāre not supĀposed to drink alcohol.ā
āBut you do, Elmo, donāt you?ā
A wicked smile spread across his face, āOh, yeah, sure, but please donāt tell my pa.ā
Gary gently grasped Elmoās arm. āDonāt you worry yourĀself none, Elmo, your secret is safe with me.ā He then turned to the bartender and ordered a lite beer. Once he had ļ¬nĀished settling, he took the bottle in his free hand and turned back to Elmo. āI wish we could ļ¬nd a place to sit and chat, but this bar is so crowded.ā
āWhat about there?ā Elmo pointed to a cafĆ© table where two nattily-dressed men had just stood up.
āWell, arenāt you my little lucky charm, Elmo.ā He guided them to the recently-abandoned seats. āSo⦠what brings a nice young boy like you into a ļ¬lthy old place like this?ā Once he had set the two drinks on the table, he waved his arms around to indiĀcate the space.
āOh, no. This is far from ļ¬lthy. If you want ļ¬lthy, I can show you the cow stalls.ā Elmoās head rotated around as he took in the new surroundings. āAnd why did you start laughĀing when I told you my name?ā He confronted Gary directly.
āOhāāhe smiledāāitās not a name you hear very often. The only Elmo I ever knew was the one on Sesame Street.ā
āIs that far from here? Is it in Manhattan?ā
Gary burst out laughing. āAre you for reals? Or are you just pranking me?ā
āIām not sure I understand what you are asking me, sirāGary.ā His wide eyes suggested his innocence to be sincere. āWhere I live, there are quite a few of usāElmos, that is. In fact, folks usually call me Elmo Number 2, or just Number 2 for short.ā
āYou are just full of surprises, Elmo Number 2.ā Gary grinned. āAt ļ¬rst I had to suppress the urge to tickle you all over.ā He wigĀgled his ļ¬ngers and moved his hands up and down.
āWhy would you want to do that?ā Elmo sipped at the beer.
āWell, a few years back there was this toy that⦠oh, never mind.ā Elmo seemed focused on Garyās shirt. āIs there someĀthing wrong with my shirt? You keep looking at it.ā
āOh, no.ā He blushed. āItās the color. Itās what drew me to you.ā
āBlue. Blue is what made you bee line from the door up to me and tell me your name?ā Elmo nodded his head. āThink you could you help me out with a bit of an explanation?ā
āOh, sure,ā he took another sip of the beer, āAnd thank you for this. Itās not bad. You see, at home, that shade of blue has a special signiļ¬cance for us.ā
āHome?ā Gary gave him the once over once again. āAnd where might that be, Elmo?ā
āLancaster, of course!ā
āOf course. I should have known. And you pronounce it way diļ¬erent from what I am used to. We say Lan-caster, but you call it āLank-a-ster.āā
āReally? Iāve never heard it pronounced any other way.ā
āUhn huhn,ā Gary started searching out other faces, just in case this cute little fantasy disappeared into a dust cloud. āSo⦠what brings you to New York, Elmo Number 2?ā
The farm boy giggled, āNumber 2. It sounds so diļ¬erent when you say it.ā He giggled again. Perhaps it was the beer kicking in. āIām on Rumspringa. Are you familiar with that?ā
āIs it some new drug?ā Gary stared down into his drink.
āOh, no, silly. Itās my time to discover what the outside world has to oļ¬er before I commit to my adult life.ā
āI think I saw a movie about that. Are you Amish or something?ā
āSort of. We like to call ourselves Pennsylvania Dutch, but itās very similar. My folks are more modern than some of the other groups.ā
āObviously.ā
āObviously?ā
āDonāt you people ride around in horse buggies? No elecĀtricĀity, no cell phones.ā
āOh, thatās the older ones. Weāre not so strict like that anymore.ā
āI see,ā Garyās eyes wandered over Elmoās body anew as fanĀtasies began to redevelop. āSo⦠youāre in New York to see the sights?ā
Meet the Author

Wayne Goodman has lived in the San Francisco Bay Area most of his life (with too many cats). He hosts Queer Words Podcast, conversations with queer-identified authors about their works and lives. When not writing, Goodman enjoys playing Gilded Age parlor music on the piano, with an emphasis on women, gay, and Black composers.
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Giveaway
Wayne is giving away a $25 iTunes gift card with this tour!
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Thank you for featuring me and my collection of short stories on your blog!
Youāre welcome. Best wishes on your tour! ā¤ļø