EXCLUSIVE EXCERPT ~ Love & Limitations by J. Scott Coatsworth #BlogTour #ExclusiveExcerpt
Love & Limitations
by J. Scott Coatsworth
Series: Short Story Collections by J. Scott Coatsworth (4th Collection)
Release Date: Wednesday, December 6 2023
Publisher: Other Worlds Ink
Cover Artist: J. Scott Coatsworth
Word Count: 67,800
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Tropes: friends to lovers, love triangle, slow burn, enemies to lovers, employee-boss, workplace romance, holiday
Pairings: MM
LGBTQ+ Identities: Gay, Transgender
Keywords/Categories: gay, transgender, contemporary, contemporary romance, gay romance, gay, romance, mm romance, MM, new release, collection, anthology, short stories, giveaway, announcement, friends to lovers, love triangle, slow burn, enemies to lovers, employee-boss, workplace romance, holiday
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Blurb
Love & Limitations is Scott’s fourth short story collection and his first one featuring his contemporary MM and LGBTQ+ stories:
- I Only Want to Be With You: Derrek likes Ryan. Ryan likes Alex. Alex treats Ryan like trash. So why can’t he see who really loves him?
- The Boy in the Band: It’s hard for a trans kid in high school, just like it was for a gay kid two decades before. Can Ryan and Justin find common ground in time?
- Translation: Dominic has a thing for Italian guys, especially his boss, Dante. His roommate Enrico has a thing for him. No matter how this ends, someone is going to get hurt.
- Slow Thaw: As the Antarctic warms, so does the chilly relationship between scientist Javier Fernandez and new arrival—and trans man—Col Steele as they contend with a disaster on the ice.
- Ten: After the death of his husband, Chris faces a gay mid-life crisis—at thirty-five—as he jumps back into the dating scene for ten dates in ten days.
This is the first time these stories have been collected in one place, and the first publication of “The Boy in the Band.”
Warnings: Bullying, suicidal ideation and attempt, past physical abuse, deadnaming
✨ Exclusive Excerpt ✨
Excerpt From “I Only Want to Be With You”
by J. Scott Coatsworth
The doorbell rang.
Derrek groaned, pulling his blanket up over his head. “Leave me alone, Tony.”
Tony from work had stopped by three times to check on him after he’d taken the week off to plan his mother’s funeral. It was starting to get obnoxious. Tony kinda had a thing for black guys. Derrek really didn’t have a thing for him.
“It’s not Tony.” The voice was deeper, warmer than Tony’s. It didn’t scream gay accountant.
Oh shit. Derrek was in no shape for company, but it was Ryan. Ryan Kessler.
Ryan was practically family. They’d been friends for five years, ever since they’d met at a grief support group. “Coming.” He threw the blanket under the couch and checked himself in the mirror, trying to force his hair into some semblance of combed. Then he dragged himself to the door.
Derrek clearly wasn’t Ryan’s type. Yet somehow, they’d formed a singular friendship.
“Hey, sport.” Ryan stood there in his full glory, looking like that gay soccer player from Spain? Portugal? Cristiano Ronaldo. Clean cut, tanned, and beautiful.
Seriously, Derrek was pretty sure that Ryan glowed and that birds chirped when he entered a room. It all might have been in his head.
It didn’t matter, anyhow. Ryan is with Alex.
Ryan held up a paper bag and pulled out a round container. “Brought you some soup from the Chicken Pie Shop.”
“You brought me soup?” Derrek sniffed himself surreptitiously. He hadn’t bathed in three days, since his mother’s funeral.
“Yeah. I’m sorry I wasn’t here sooner. Work had me in San Francisco for training. I just got in last night and heard your voicemail.” Ryan hugged him. “I’m so sorry, Derr.”
“Thanks. It’s been a rough week. Want to come in?” Derrek took the container.
“Sure.” He followed Derrek inside.
“Hey, you hungry? I can’t eat all of this myself.”
“Yeah, I haven’t had dinner yet.”
“What about Alex?”
“He said he would be home late. He has a work thing tonight.”
Derrek tried not to roll his eyes. “Wanna stick around and eat with me, then? The soup smells great. I haven’t really had much of an appetite, since mom passed.”
“What happened?”
Derrek shook his head. “They don’t know. She was at work, and she just… fell.” He hadn’t been there, but his mind had latched onto that image. The look of horror on her face, the long collapse… he grabbed the edge of the kitchen counter and squeezed it hard. Oh God, why do I have to keep seeing it? “They think it was a stroke.”
Ryan’s arms wrapped around him and pulled him close. “They didn’t do an autopsy?”
Derrek tried to ignore the effect Ryan had on him. This wasn’t the time. “We didn’t want one. I mean… what’s the point?” He sighed. “She looked so beautiful—her face made up and her hair done, wearing one of her favorite bright blue blouses. But she was… I don’t know… hollow, somehow? Not like herself at all.”
Ryan nodded. “My grandma was like that. Like it wasn’t even her.” He pulled a chair out and gestured for Derrek to sit. “Relax. I’ll heat this up for us.” He put the soup in one of Derrek’s cranberry Pyrex bowls.
Derrek watched Ryan work, setting the table with ceramic bowls and a couple spoons. He knows where everything is. “I’m sorry I’m such a mess. I haven’t felt like showering. Like doing much of anything, really.” He rubbed his eyes. I do need a shower. “I have to go back to work tomorrow.”
“You’re entitled to be a mess. Are you sure you’re ready for work?” Ryan microwaved the soup, glancing at Derrek over his shoulder.
“Honestly, I think it will be a good distraction.” He was ready to throw himself into something, and at least at work he got a paycheck for it. “The Grind has been really good about giving me the time off.”
“What do you want to drink?” Ryan poked his head into the fridge. “Eeeeew.”
“What?”
“I don’t think milk’s supposed to look like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like cottage cheese?” He held up the container.
Derrek snorted in spite of himself. “Sorry. I haven’t gotten to the store in a few days. Or a week, maybe. It’s hard to remember.”
“How about some wine?”
“Perfect.”
Ryan found a couple of wineglasses, and uncorked a bottle of red wine from Derrek’s modest under-the-sink collection, mostly housewarming gifts brought by friends.
The microwave beeped, and Ryan served the soup, ladling it steaming into the two bowls.
It smelled heavenly.
“Best chicken soup in San Diego,” Ryan said with a grin. “At least Yelp says so.”
“Well, if Yelp says it’s true…” Derrek managed a weak smile. “I’m sorry. I’m not very good company right now.”
“Hey, I’m the company. You’re the guest of honor. Or something like that. Eat!”
Derrek took a sip of the chunky soup. “Oh my God, that’s good.” It was full of carrots, potato, and big chunks of white chicken meat. He hadn’t realized how hungry he was.
Ryan grinned. “Yeah, it really is.”
Derrek gulped it down. “So,” he asked between spoonfuls. “Does Alex know you’re here?”
Derrek nodded. “Yeah. I told him.”
“And he was okay with it?”
Ryan was silent.
“Ryan, does Alex mind that you came to see me?”
Ryan shrugged. “He’ll get over it.”
Jesus, Mary, and Mamma Mia. “Ryan…”
“It’ll be okay. Really. I needed to come, to check in on you, to make sure you were all right.” He reached out to touch Derrek’s hand. “It’s what friends do.”
Derrek squeezed his hand. “I’m glad you came. Can I make a confession?”
“Sure?” Ryan raised an eyebrow.
“I might not mind if your being here pisses Alex off, a little.”
Tour Excerpt
Excerpt from “Ten”
by J. Scott Coatsworth
Sundays were the worst.
Those lazy, quiet mornings, sitting in the big bay window seat across from Ari with our legs entwined.
That happy time was long gone.
Instead, I was waiting out on the sidewalk, leaning up against the railing of the MARRS Building boardwalk. The wind blew chill, going right through my windbreaker, and the sky was slate gray. It never snowed in Sacramento, but it sure seemed to be trying.
I stuffed my hands into my jacket pockets, wishing I had a pair of mittens. As an Arizona boy, I wasn’t used to the cold, even Sacramento cold.
I stood at the corner of 20th and K in the heart of gay Sacramento, waiting for a guy named Bryan. Spelled with a “Y”, of course. We gays are nothing if not predictable.
Christmas music played from speakers in the eaves of the building behind me.
My husband Ari had passed away on New Year’s Eve the previous year. He’d been hit by a street-racing Mercedes when we were crossing J Street, and it had been twelve agonizing days in the hospital before he took his last breath.
Three seconds. That’s how far behind him I was, checking something on Facebook. I didn’t even remember what it was.
Three goddamned seconds.
After a year of being alone, of beating myself up for those three seconds, I’d finally decided that it was time to start dating again. Ari was gone, and nothing would bring him back. He would want me to go on.
Still, my heart wasn’t in it.
My mother was sick with worry. Every day I got a call or a text or an email asking if I was okay.
Ari would want me to have someone again.
I was thirty-five, and all alone.
I’d challenged myself to go on ten dates in ten days—maybe I’d find someone new. If not, at least I’d have a reason to be alone.
And so, Bryan.
He was twenty-five, hung, and had no head, at least if his Grindr profile was to be believed.
What was it about gay guys and their abs?
Then again, I’d swiped right when I saw that gorgeous chest, so I guess I’m part of the problem.
Grindr photos never lie, right?
Bryan arrived on time—a point in his favor—and he was young and beautiful. Blond, blue eyed, and yes, all of twenty-five. I laughed under my breath. I had underwear older than he was.
I’m no slouch at 5’11”, but he was taller than me.
Ari had been just my height, with black hair and dark brown eyes. Medium, dark, and handsome.
Bryan and I hugged and headed down to Pizzeria Urbano. We grabbed a couple slices and took them outside to the patio. Lavender Heights was quiet today—the cold weather, most likely—and the people-watching was practically non-existent.
“You look just like your photo,” Bryan said between bites, flashing me a big white perfectly aligned smile. No one had natural teeth that straight, or that white. “What are you, like forty?”
Ouch. Little shit. “Um, thirty-five,” I replied. “And you have a head.”
“What? Oh yeah, the Grindr thing.” He grinned again, and I had to shield my eyes. “I don’t want my parents finding me on there.”
That surprised me. “You’re in the closet? I thought your generation was past all of that.”
“Nah, I just don’t want them in my business. It’s bad enough I have to follow all the ‘house rules.’ But hey, I like dating older guys.”
Ouch again. And he lived at home.
But damn, he was cute.
I tried to get us back on track. “So what do you do?”
“I’m a personal trainer.” He eyed his pizza. “I hardly ever eat this shit.”
Of course you are. “Yeah? Where?”
“At Lord’s Gym in South Sac.” He poked me in my less than perfectly flat stomach. “Hey, I can get you back in shape—you eat pizza and carbs like this all the time, right? Come in some time and I’ll hook you up.” He finished his slice, licking his fingers.
“Suuuuure.” I mentally added a new Grindr rule—from now on, any swipe-rights had to have a head.
Bryan was totally wrong for me. Too young, too athletic, not too bright, and he had all the manners of an untrained puppy.
“Wanna go back to my place?” he said, panting.
Oh my God, that tongue.
Ari wouldn’t mind.
What the fuck are you waiting for? Ari whispered in my ear.He’s hot.
I laughed. Of course it wasn’t him. But it’s exactly what he would have said, given the current situation, and if Ari wanted me to … “Sure.”
Bryan took my hand and led me back to his place, just a couple blocks away.
The next day, I started an Evernote to keep track and rate my dates. I don’t usually sleep and tell, but I gave Bryan a four and a half for date-ability, and a ten in bed.
Author Bio
Scott lives with his husband Mark in a yellow bungalow in Sacramento. He was indoctrinated into fantasy and sci fi by his mother at the tender age of nine. He devoured her library, but as he grew up, he wondered where all the people like him were.
He decided that if there weren’t queer characters in his favorite genres, he would remake them to his own ends.
A Rainbow Award winning author, he runs Queer Sci Fi, QueeRomance Ink, and Other Worlds Ink with Mark, sites that celebrate fiction reflecting queer reality, and is the committee chair for the Indie Authors Committee at the Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers of America (SFWA).
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