GUEST POST :: Hunger by Holly Day #Excerpt #GuestPost
✨ GUEST POST ✨
Hiya! Thank you, Addison, for allowing me to swing by your blog today!
I’m Holly Day, and I write MM Romance stories for different holidays. See the name thing?? LOL.
When I say holidays, I mean days like Chocolate Day, which is the one we’re celebrating this month!
My latest release is called Hunger. I most often write paranormal stories. The occasional contemporary story slips through, and there has been an alien or two throughout the years.
Hunger is different.
I’ve written a few post-apocalyptic/dystopian stories, so it’s not like it’s never happened before. But it’s rare. In this one, there is no magic, no monsters other than those created by hunger.
It’s a story about survival.
I think I was doomscrolling a little too much, and I allowed my imagination to run free. There are a lot of what-ifs spinning in my head, and I don’t want to fearmonger in any way, but would you survive if you couldn’t go to the grocery store?
Part of me believed the pandemic would make us see things differently, that once we realized the vulnerability in our systems, we would take precautions.
I don’t know about you, but I don’t think we have. If something were to happen to the shipping routes, the shelves would gape empty within a few days.
I was watching a documentary the other day. This was after Hunger had gone through the editing, so it didn’t have any influence on the story whatsoever, but it’s called Kriget om Fröerna (The War over the Seeds) and is about control of seeds. How four major companies own the vast majority of the world’s seeds, and how farmers aren’t allowed to save seeds from the plants grown on their land. They have to buy new ones every year. Thus, they are controlled by the seed companies.
During the pandemic, there was a lot of talk here (I’m in Sweden) about how going back forty years, we were self-sufficient when it came to several crops, but now we aren’t. The one thing they highlighted was that we still are self-sufficient in carrots (yay us!)
This documentary pointed out that while we can grow all the carrots Sweden needs ourselves, we import the seeds. Which means we’re really not self-sufficient at all.
Sorry to go on a tangent like that, but these were the kind of thoughts that made me write Hunger. I look at the world, see the rising prices, the conflicts, the corruption, and here the unemployment number is higher than in most other European countries.
The system is fragile.
It wouldn’t take much to disrupt it, and if it was to be disrupted, would you survive? Would you go hungry?
So yeah, that’s where we’re at. If you’re looking for a light-hearted story, maybe skip this one. But there is love even in the bleakest of times, and in this particular story, there is even some chocolate, so check it out!
Hunger
by Holly Day
Genre: Gay Futuristic Spicy Romance
Length: Novel / 48,533 Words
Heat Rating: 3 Flames
🛒 Purchase Links
Blurb
Hunger is a funny thing. It makes people act in ways they never believed they’d do.
Gareth Cadell always believed he’d be a winner if society ever collapsed. He’s big and strong, and he knows how to handle himself. He never considered the food issue, though. When things get too dangerous in the city, he leaves, but he hadn’t realized how quickly starvation would set in. Which is why, when he comes across Kegan, he can’t allow him to keep all his food for himself.
Hunger is a dangerous thing. It turns good people into unpredictable ones.
Kegan Ashida never believed he’d live this long after the collapse. He’s nothing special. He’s capable of killing if he has to, but he’s more likely to take care of someone than to harm them. It doesn’t mean he’s willing to surrender. He’s worked hard to build up his pantry, and he won’t allow anyone to steal his food.
Gareth doesn’t want to hurt Kegan. It’s not his fault Gareth is hungry, and if he’s being honest, he’d rather kiss him than harm him. Maybe bribing his way into Kegan’s home and heart is the better way?
Excerpt
Parker had at least been smart enough to lure him in with something he needed. Things essential for his survival. Chocolate? He didn’t need it. It didn’t mean his mouth wasn’t watering, but he didn’t fucking need it, and he suspected the guy would jump him the moment he lowered the bow.
“No.”
The man’s gaze swept over his face. His expression wasn’t hostile, but there was calculation in his eyes, and the way he held himself made Kegan believe he could kill him without breaking a sweat.
Sending an arrow through him was the only way he’d win.
“Name your price then.”
“There are no roosters for sale.” Or was it better to allow him a rooster? He had backups. More than he should, but he always grew cold at the prospect of being without a rooster, so he went a little overboard. He wouldn’t do any slaughtering until a few of his hens sat on eggs.
February was a great month for eggs. He was filling a basket every day, but in another month or two, some of his trusty ladies would go broody, and once he was sure he’d have a good haul of baby chicks, he’d butcher the majority of the roosters.
He hated butchering, but again, he needed to eat. Not chocolate. Was there anything he could ask for? The man only had a backpack, but he might have more things tucked away somewhere.
He hadn’t seen him before, and he’d seen most of the people living nearby. It was more likely he was passing through.
He hoped he was only passing through.
“Do you have any medicine?” He’d been a nurse before everything went to shit. He’d stocked up, and he’d be eternally grateful his mom had been into herbal remedies, living off the land, and other things he’d snorted at when growing up. It hadn’t taken many weeks before he realized some of the items and books she’d left behind when she passed away could be what saved his life. And they had. He’d never be where he was now without her.
At first, he hadn’t believed he’d survive. He was a nurturer at heart, and fighting for his survival didn’t come naturally. It didn’t mean he wanted to die, only… He did his best to clear his head.
He had jar upon jar of dried herbs for colds or if he got a fever, but having antibiotics for more serious things would’ve been great.
“Band-Aid.”
Kegan kept his face blank. He had Band-Aids, but he didn’t want the man to know. It was dangerous to let on you had things. “Antibiotics?”
“Sorry. Burn gel.”
Oh, the burn gel was good, but Kegan already had enough.
He shook his head.
The man slowly raised one of his hands and rubbed his neck, his eyes never left Kegan’s, and he got the feeling he’d failed a test. Should he have told him not to move? Most likely.
“Blanket.” The man winced a little, which made Kegan believe he didn’t want to part with his blanket. Come to think of it, now when he wasn’t moving around, he did look cold.
February was brutal, and Kegan did his best to suppress the shiver taking hold of him. He was cold too.
“I have blankets.”
“Blankets, as in more than one?”
Shit, he should keep his mouth shut. He tightened his hold on the bow. “If you don’t have anything I need, I suggest you walk back to where you came from.”
The man caught his gaze and held it. “Labor.”
“Labor?” Why couldn’t he keep his mouth shut?
“Yes. Labor. If you live alone, there has to be something around you need an extra hand with.”
Icy fear slithered down his spine. “Who said I lived alone?”
The man made a show of looking around. “I believe if you didn’t, someone would’ve come to your aid by now.”
“My aid?” He did his best to sound cockier than he was. “I don’t need any aid. You’re the one half a second away from being skewered by an arrow.”
The man shrugged as if it was neither here nor there. “I still believe you’re on your own. So… I can chop wood.” His gaze flicked around, and Kegan didn’t know if it was to check if there was someone else around or to look for wood.
He had enough wood to last until summer. He’d learned the hard way the first year, a mistake he wouldn’t make again.
“I have wood.”
There was a twitch of the man’s lips as if he was about to smile. “I can shovel snow.”
There was no snow. They’d had several days of mild weather last week, and while it had dropped down below freezing again, there hadn’t been any new snow. It would come. They weren’t out of winter yet, but spring was growing nearer by the day.
“There is no snow.”
“But there will be.”
Kegan rolled his eyes, which was fucking stupid, but the man grinned. It made Kegan’s heart flip. There was nothing sinister about it. It didn’t mean he wouldn’t kill him the moment Kegan lowered his bow, but right this second, the man only looked amused.
“You want me to give you a rooster now, and then wait for you to come back to shovel snow when it snows?”
The man tilted his head to the side. “Sure. You can trust me.” Then he winked.
“Yeah, right.”
The man lowered his hands, and Kegan’s breath froze. There was a knife in his belt. Fuck.
About the Author
According to Holly Day, no day should go by uncelebrated and all of them deserve a story. If she’ll have the time to write them remains to be seen. She lives in rural Sweden with a husband, four children, more pets than most, and wouldn’t last a day without coffee.
Holly gets up at the crack of dawn most days of the week to write gay romance stories. She believes in equality in fiction and in real life. Diversity matters. Representation matters. Visibility matters. We can change the world one story at the time.
