Flash Fiction Friday – April 14, 2017 – Adventures with Harrison & Mason

Flash Fiction Friday

This week’s Flash Fiction Friday is a drabble (a precisely 100-word story scene) featuring my recurring characters, Harrison and Mason, and using the word left in last week’s post (penile), and an image I found on wiki commons (links with the picture, below).

For more flash fiction (including more Adventures with Harrison and Mason), and bonus scenes from many of my published stories, check out the tabs in the menu at the top of the page.

“Tossed Salad.”

Harrison turned his head and peered at Mason. The words had been muttered. The man lay on his stomach, his head to the side and eyes closed.

“Treasure trail.” Mason moved a little with the words. I mild kind of stretch one might make when half asleep.

Harrison nudged his husband. “You awake?”

“Wang.” The word was barely breathed.

“What?”

“Wank.”

Harrison snorted. “You’re a nut.”

Penile.”

“I’ll ‘penile’ you!” Harrison rolled and draped an arm across Mason’s back.”

One of Mason’s eyes cracked open as a grin spread across his face. “About time you figured it out.”

Gay Couple togetherness in bed 01.jpg
By rt69 on flickr.comPhotograph on Flickr, CC BY 2.0, Link

Leave a prompt word in the comments, below, and I’ll use it in next week’s Flash Fiction Friday post. One word per commenter, please, up to 15 total.

Flash Fiction Friday – April 7, 2017

Flash Fiction Friday

This week’s Flash Fiction Friday is a mish-mash using the two prompt words left in last week’s post (whānau and traffic), and the three concepts from P.T. Wyant’s most recent Wednesday’s Words post (a man in odd clothinga tattered book, and a whistle).

For more flash fiction, and bonus scenes from many of my published stories, check out the tabs in the menu at the top of the page.

Casey reached back for Hemi’s hand as they crossed the small stream between the car park and the sands of Hot Water Beach on New Zealand’s Coromandel Peninsula. “I thought we’d never get here.”

“I hate dealing with heavy traffic,” Hemi replied.

“Aw, it wouldn’t have been bad except for that accident.” Casey turned his head to flash a grin at his boyfriend. “Anyway, we still got here at a good time.”

Hemi glanced at his watch and nodded. “It’s an hour ’til low tide.”

“Perfect timing, in fact.” Casey lifted their shovel in salute. “Best ‘hot tubs’ ever.”

A cluster of people of varying ages—an extended family group, perhaps—straggled along behind them with their own shovels and buckets. Casey had to restrain himself from making an obvious double-take at the older man’s outfit. Not so much the incompatible pattern matchup between his swim trunks and open shirt, which was funny enough, but the socks he wore with his sandals. Socks. With sandals. On a beach. Not only that, they appeared to be hand knitted or crocheted socks. He carried a well-worn book in one hand, and a women’s large floppy hat in the other.

The group settled nearby at the tide line. Casey shrugged, dropped his towel, and began digging their own personal, natural, hot springs spa. The water that would bubble up from the coastal springs was rich in beneficial minerals such as potassium, magnesium, and calcium. Simply put, it was an amazing experience, and he looked forward to a tranquil hour or so with Hemi.

He dug out a big enough pool for the two of them in no time at all. Hemi used the bucket they’d brought to fetch some ocean water to adjust the temperature in their little spa. They were all smiles as they slathered on sunscreen, then sat and leaned back on their elbows to wallow in the soothing heated water. Casey leaned across to drop a quick kiss to the corner of Hemi’s mouth, then closed his eyes and lifted his face toward the sun.

They both jumped when a shrill blast of a whistle shattered the calm. Casey brought a hand to his heart and turned toward the source of the noise. The whistle still hung from the old man’s lips. The child standing near the water’s edge turned and ran back to the group at the man’s hand gesture.

Casey turned with wide eyes at the sound of Hemi’s chuckle. “Really?” Casey mouthed the word, but remained silent. Not that he was surprised Hemi would be more amused than annoyed. Nor could he really blame the old man, even for that piercing blast, considering the reputation of the riptides at this beach.

Hemi smiled serenely and lifted a shoulder. “Reminds me of my whānau.”

Ah. His large, extended family. Well, they’d produced a warm-hearted and congenial young man in Hemi, so Casey was inclined to disregard the interruption to his meditation. It wasn’t as if it was a private beach, after all.

They rested their heads on the sand piled around the edge of their little bath, and Hemi’s hand slipped into his. With the distraction of Hemi’s thumb skimming back and forth along Casey’s wrist, he barely even noticed when the old man started reading aloud from the tattered book he’d brought.

Wikipedia: Whānau (Māori pronunciation: [ˈfaːnaʉ]) is a Māori-language word for extended family, now increasingly entering New Zealand English, particularly in official publications.

Maoridictionary.co.nz2. (noun) extended family, family group, a familiar term of address to a number of people – the primary economic unit of traditional Māori society. In the modern context the term is sometimes used to include friends who may not have any kinship ties to other members.

http://travel.cnn.com/explorations/escape/10-great-new-zealand-beaches-358798/

http://www.mercurybay.co.nz/activities/hotwaterbeach.php

Leave a prompt word in the comments, below, and I’ll use it in next week’s Flash Fiction Friday post. One word per commenter, please, up to 15 total.

Flash Fiction Friday – March 31, 2017 – Bonus Scene – ’Til Death Do Us Part

Flash Fiction Friday

This week I’m just using the one prompt word (jockstrap) that was left in the comments of last week’s post. In general I’ll use up to 15. If they aren’t left in the comments, then I may or may not grab some extras off a random word generator site. This week I went with not. 😜

Oh, and sorry, Nell, I broke the rule you attached to your word (“But you have to write something hotter than someone doing laundry and finding a hot jockstrap, that’s the rule 😉”). In fact, it’s literally found in the laundry.

Anyway, since April 3rd is the 1-year anniversary of the release of ’Til Death Do Us Part, I’m going with a bonus scene for that novel, today. The timeframe for this scene falls within the timeline of the story, rather than after it ends, so I suppose you could call it a missing scene. I picture this scene taking place shortly before the action in chapter 4, where Sam hands over his summer class to a grad student and surveys Henry’s office at the university.

For more bonus scenes from ’Til Death Do Us Part, as well as from a number of my other published stories, check out the “Bonus Scenes” tab in the menu at the top of the page.

Sam closed his eyes and took a deep, shuddering breath before reopening them and facing the hamper. In the days immediately following the news of Henry’s plane crash, he’d eyed the tall wicker basket despondently and had instead put his freshly used clothes directly into the laundry basket sitting atop the washing machine.

Would this be his last chance to catch Henry’s scent? It was already starting to fade on the sheets that were still on the bed. His heart wasn’t ready to give up hope, but it warred with the logical nature of his brain. Either way, he couldn’t live with himself if he didn’t take care of Henry’s personal effects himself. Regina had offered to handle this task for him, but he’d declined. He both dreaded and wanted to do this himself. He squared his shoulders, removed the lid, and reached in.

His own pajama bottoms lay on top. The ones he’d been wearing when he’d awoken that fateful morning. After watching the news report, he’d been too distracted to think. Apparently, he’d opened the hamper out of sheer habit and tossed them in. He transferred them to one of the laundry baskets he’d placed beside the hamper. Next he quickly sorted the clothes he’d worn earlier that day.

Sam sighed and stared at Henry’s lime-green Nike stretchy fitted shirt that he’d worn when they’d gone cycling together earlier in the afternoon before the flight. Henry had wanted to get his blood flowing before he’d be stuck sitting in an airplane for thirteen hours. Sam’s heart skipped a beat as the sweaty musk that permeated the fabric wafted up to him. He reached, then froze with his hand suspended above the brightly colored material. A sob wobbled in his throat, and he fisted the shirt and clutched it to his chest. He desperately wanted to bury his nose in it, but a vocal corner of his brain cried out, arguing that it would be impossible to turn back, emotionally, if he let himself flounder in his pain.

He tossed the shirt into a waiting laundry basket and gaped at the next item in the hamper. The jockstrap Henry had worn beneath his biking shorts. In typical Henry style, it was a tantalizing cross between form and function. No strictly utilitarian underwear for Henry, but neither was it meant purely as a fashion statement. It was bright blue with a wide gray waistband—pretty, but functional. And rich with Henry’s personal fragrance.

Again, Sam’s fingers hovered over the garment before finally clasping the material. The tears he’d been holding at bay flowed freely as he clenched and flexed his hand around the material. He kept his hands down at his belly, that corner of his brain now positively screaming that he’d never be able to turn back from the abyss if he lost control here and gave himself over to the desperate desire to wallow in Henry’s scent. His hand shook as he transferred the skimpy garment to the laundry basket. He shivered, picturing himself turning into some shifty creeper that came home and sniffed undergarments in a baggie every night. He ran his fingers through his hair and steeled himself to quickly sort through the rest.

He stood and carried the first load to the washing machine, opened it, and tossed in the clothes and a detergent pod. The bright blue jockstrap teased him from the top of the pile. He closed his eyes and counted to ten as he fiddled with a button on his shirt. When he reopened them, the rational corner of his brain whispered: This needs to be done, regardless. Either Henry will want his clothes clean when he returns, or they’ll need to be clean when you pack them away. Sam pushed back when that reasonable part of his psyche pressed him to accept it was the latter, and aloud, he murmured to the empty house, “I know the odds that you’re still alive out there are far closer to ‘none’ than ‘slim,’ but I’m not ready to let go of you, yet.”

Leave a prompt word in the comments, below, and I’ll use it in next week’s Flash Fiction Friday post. One word per commenter, please, up to 15 total.

Anniversary Promo 600x600

King Kong vs. The Skinny Pirate POV Switch Part 3

Promo - Teaser - King Kong vs. The Skinny Pirate

So far I’ve posted the opening scene from King Kong vs. The Skinny Pirate in two parts. This is the first part of the next scene. Links to the previous scenes can be found by clicking the Bonus Scenes tab in the menu at the top of the page. The published (FREE) short story is told entirely from Blaine’s POV. Using 1st-person perspective, here’s how George perceived this scene:

I opened the door to my apartment, and Blaine’s head swiveled as he cast his gaze around my living room. I mentally shrugged off the thought that perhaps he’d doubted my word when I’d assured him my apartment was clean, and put it down to basic human curiosity. Even so, I couldn’t resist a little poke.

“Told ya.”

“You’re a man of your word, George. I like that.”

I kept walking toward my bedroom, and Blaine stayed right on my heels. I stopped and turned when I reached the middle of the room. “I don’t suppose it would be a good idea to just rip that suit off you in a horny haze.” Not that I expected him to give me the go-ahead. I shuddered to think what the cost of the repairs would be. But, I had to admit, although I didn’t typically go for men who were as “high-end” as Blaine, he was damned hot in that getup. I made a quick adjustment, because my jeans were on the verge of becoming uncomfortable.

“I’d appreciate it if you managed to resist.”

I stifled a snort and pulled a straight-backed chair away from the wall. “Here…is this good enough to hang it on, or do you want me to dig a suit hanger out of the closet?”

“The chair’s fine.”

I walked into the bathroom as Blaine shrugged out of his jacket. I turned on the faucet and brushed my teeth. When I finished, I rummaged in the drawer for a spare toothbrush then stepped back into the bedroom. Blaine seemed like a hygienic sort, but even so, I tossed it through the air toward him.

“I like to kiss.” I added a wink, hoping he wouldn’t feel insulted, then pulled my T-shirt over my head.

Blaine stood in his shorts and undershirt staring at my chest, then he shook the deer-in-the-headlights look off his face and stepped into the bathroom. When he returned, I was down to my boxer briefs, folding down the bedspread. He smiled, I think at the sight of the fresh-looking sheets. I straightened and gave him a grin of my own. “It always bothers me when I go to someone’s place and the bed has more life growing on it than a Petri dish.” His smile widened, so I supposed my guess was right. Apparently, we had something in common. “Sex might be grubby, but the sheets don’t need to be—at least not ’til after.”

I removed his undershirt and tossed it toward the chair. His body was lean and toned. The sight of his smooth pale skin, essentially hairless except for the dark trail heading south from his navel sent a jolt of heat through me. His eyes widened, and his body stiffened slightly as I placed one hand on his jaw. He made no moves to indicate he was unwilling as opposed to just feeling a little awkward, so I moved in for a kiss.

His breath was minty-fresh, and his lips warmed as quickly as his body relaxed. His arms curled around my torso as he closed his eyes and seemed to melt in my arms. My skin tingled wherever his hands roamed. I deepened the kiss and cupped the back of his neck with one hand as his settled teasingly at my waist.

When I pressed our hips together, he moaned and opened his eyes. I broke the kiss, and my breath hitched as a grin stretched slowly across my face. My fingers lingered at his jaw.

“What?” Blaine panted.

I shook my head. “Nothing. Just pleasantly surprised.” Which was more than just a bit of an understatement. My heart raced, anticipating our next moves. I gestured toward the bed. “Come on. Skivvies off.”

Click this link for more information about King Kong vs. The Skinny Pirate.

logo-BookBub
I’m on BookBub now!


Download King Kong vs. The Skinny Pirate for FREE!

JMS Books, LLC – EPUB, MOBI, PDF, HTML
Smashwords – EPUB, MOBI, PDF, LRF, PDB, TXT, HTML
Amazon Kindle – Universal Link – Kindle Format (AZW)
iBookStore – iBook Format (EPUB)
Barnes & Noble – Nook Format (EPUB)
Kobo – eBook Format (EPUB)
BookStrand – EPUB, MOBI, PDF, HTML
Blio – EPUB, Blio Format
Google Play – EPUB, PDF
Scribd – iPaper

placeit-4-kkvtsp

#RainbowSnippets – March 25, 2017 – WIP with Wes & Mike

I’ve joined the Rainbow Snippets group on Facebook. From their description: “Rainbow Snippets is a group for LGBTQ+ authors, readers, and bloggers to gather once a week to share six sentences from a work of fiction–a WIP or a finished work or even a 6-sentence book recommendation (no spoilers please!).” Pretty cool, eh? Don’t forget to “Like” my Facebook page and/or my Facebook profile while you’re over there checking out this fantastic group!

Rainbow

Today I’m posting a snippet from an as-yet-unnamed WIP which will be a total from-the-ground-up overhaul of my old story A Dream Come True. The rewrite is told entirely from Mike’s 1st person POV (whereas the original was in both Mike and Wes’s 3rd person POV). While it will be essentially retelling the same basic story, this overhaul is significant enough I feel it deserves a fresh and shiny new title.

These 8 lines (sorry, had to finish the trail of thought) continues where last week’s post (ending with Point being, there were plenty of things I’d rather do than face another roommate interviewee) left off:

I missed Amber already. I even missed the side-eye squint she’d leveled in my direction whenever I left the toilet seat up.

I hit “play” on the iPod attached to the stereo, and Paul Simon started singing Me and Julio Down by the Schoolyard. My head bopped to the beat as I approached the sliding glass balcony door to stare down over the parking lot.

The immortal words of Thomas H. Palmer came to mind. “’Tis a lesson you should heed, try, try again. If at first you don’t succeed, try, try again.” I’d be willing to bet Mr. Palmer had never endured a new roommate search culminating with a guy who didn’t think anything of showing up to the interview stoned out of his mind, or tried to politely extricate himself from a non-stop chatterbox who either couldn’t or wouldn’t pick up on clues it was time to leave. At least the homophobe hadn’t wasted any time clearing out.

#RainbowSnippets


Kindle Unlimited

My books at JMS are all available for #FREE download with your #KindleUnlimited subscription:

Amazon Universal: Author.to/Amazon_AddisonAlbright

For alternate buy-links and additional information on my publications, please use the dropdown menu at the top of the page.

Rainbow Snippets

Flash Fiction Friday – March 24, 2017

Flash Fiction Friday

I’m doing something slightly different today. I waited (for the 3rd week in a row) until Thursday afternoon to write the post, but that turned out to be a good thing because I stumbled upon this “daily writing prompt”…

17457394_1622567107770604_4710620663870812241_n

…over at the Writers Write blog on Thursday and decided to use it along with the one prompt word (disappointment) that was left on last week’s post.

So here you go—10 items found in the rubbish, and 1 prompt word. Although this does continue with the same characters from last week, I’ll file it under Random Standalone Flash Fiction because I don’t intend for them to become recurring characters. I’ll revisit that if I change my mind down the road.

It had to be in here. Grant used a finger and thumb to gingerly pick up a rotting banana peel and toss it aside. He shuddered. Who put food remains in their bedroom trash can, anyway. No wonder the room reeked.

“Ew,” he muttered. The used condom could sift to the bottom. He wasn’t touching it despite the fact that Dreamy Daniel from the carnival had worn the thing. At least he assumed it had been Daniel and not Andy wearing the rubber. Either way, no doubt it was a contributor to the funky odor. The crumpled tissues and wet wipe were probably related, and also not anything Grant wanted to touch. He fetched a pair of tongs from the kitchen, because clearly this job needed either that or rubber gloves. This mission had better be worth it.

An empty chocolate syrup container, a candle stub, and an empty can of Reddi Whip came out next. Grant shook his head. Had they made banana splits in the bedroom, or drizzled this shit all over each other and licked it off? He could get behind the latter option, at least if he was one of the participants.

Good grief. An empty champagne bottle and about a dozen bitten off strawberry tops? On a first date? Andy’d pulled out all the stops for this guy. Even if Grant managed to finagle a date with the man, he’d be hard put to compete with this shit.

As he lifted off the last few strawberry greens the paper he was after emerged. Grant’s shoulders slumped with disappointment when he saw it. Daniel’s name was readable, but the ink for the phone number underneath it had run and speared into an illegible mess. Andy’s phone was the only hope of retrieving it, now. That or flirting with the man right in front of Andy. No, he felt low enough going through Andy’s trash. What plausible excuse could he have given even if he’d discovered the number, anyway? It was time to concede defeat. He sighed and returned the garbage to the plastic can.

Andy stood in the doorway with a hiked eyebrow when Grant turned to leave. “Find what you were looking for?”

“My self-respect? No, left it behind.”

Leave a prompt word in the comments, below, and I’ll use it in next week’s Flash Fiction Friday post. One word per commenter, please, up to 15 total.

Camp NaNoWriMo & Progress Report

Camp NanoWriMo

I swore I’d never do it again, but here I am, signed up for Camp NaNoWriMo in April. My goal is a very modest 20k words to be used to finish my current project, which is a total rewrite of an as yet unnamed story that was previously published using the title A Dream Come True. The story is undergoing such a complete revision that it deserves a new title. I am not merely editing the existing words. I’ve got the old story open as a guideline as I rewrite it in 1st-person from a single POV (Mike’s). The old version was in 3rd-person alternating POV. The gist of the story remains the same, but a number of details are also changing.

I will be doing the same thing for Another Dream, and Dreaming of You, for which I plan a bit of an expansion from novelette to short novel length.

Cultivating Love - Cover

I recently finished my facelift to Cultivating Love, which also includes an expansion from Novella to short novel length with the addition of about 6k words. The contract for the first edition with Loose ID runs through June 9th. They’ve acknowledged receipt of my notification that I won’t be renewing again this year. Presumably the first edition will be available through that date, but I don’t know for sure, so if you want a copy of that edition you’ll need to get on it before then. The revised and expanded second edition will become available at JMS Books, LLC on June 24th in ebook format, and on June 30th in print format. I don’t have the new cover yet, but I’ll share it once I do.


Camp NanoWriMo

Flashback Scenes from Sam’s POV – Chap. 16 No. 18

The flashback scenes in ’Til Death Do Us Part chronicle the time from when Henry and Sam first began their courtship through to the night before Henry leaves on his ill-fated flight. To catch up with the flashback scenes previously posted, click this link to the the category archives: https://authoraddisonalbright.com/category/til-death-do-us-part/flashback-scenes-from-sams-pov/. Additional bonus scenes can be found via the menu at the top of this page.

This series of blog posts was motivated by a comment from one of the book’s reviewers, Bethany at Rainbow Gold Reviews, who made the comment that she wished the flashback scenes had been from Sam’s POV instead of from Henry’s.


This week’s scene is from the 16th flashback in the book, found at the beginning of Chapter 18 (Note: Chapters 1 and 15 did not have flashback scenes).

This one’s a little longer than average, but heavy on the dialogue. It did have a few spots where the POV could make a difference, though.

With a spring in his step, Sam approached the bathroom where Henry was finishing up, sealing the grout on the floor of the master bath. Their final project. At long last, they were finally done.

“You know what we need to do after we finish this bathroom remodel?” Henry asked, looking up.

“Seriously? You want to take on another project after this? There’s nothing left,” Sam replied. His eyes widened, although the role reversal was kind of amusing. Sam was the one who’d wanted to buy the fixer-upper. Henry’d needed to be convinced.

“Well, it won’t be pressing, like this other stuff was. And we can easily drag it out as time and our budget allows.”

Sam squinted. “What do you have in mind?”

“Finish the basement. Build us an awesome game room like Bill has. We could start hosting some of your family gatherings, and it would be great for when we have friends over.”

“You know, that’s not a bad idea. I know my nieces and nephews would love it.”

“Yeah, so would we. My only fear is that we might get distracted by it when we should be grading papers.”

Sam laughed. “Nah, I know you better than that.” While Sam wouldn’t call Henry a workaholic—he loved his leisure time, too—he did have a strong sense of responsibility and always took care of obligations before he played. “You’re right, though. The basic finishing would be simple enough to do, then we can add decorative touches as we go along, like build a bar, maybe, and add cool lighting. We can pick up games and furnishings as we find good deals over time.” The more he thought about it, the better Henry’s idea sounded.

“Exactly, a lifetime project we can enjoy adding to for the next fifty years.”

Sam snickered. “I can just picture us as a couple of eighty-year-old men still competing for the high scores in Dig Dug and Donkey Kong.”

I’ll concede to your greatness in Donkey Kong, but it’s time for you to admit you’ll never beat my Dig Dug score.”

“I admit nothing.”

“Fine, then you’d better watch your back with our future Donkey Kong machine.”

Sam waggled his eyebrows and grinned. Henry had such a fun competitive streak, Sam couldn’t resist teasing him. “I look forward to the next fifty years of watching you try.”

♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

’Til Death Do Us Part

Excerpt/Info/Review Links | Goodreads

eBook Buy-Links

JMS Books, LLC | Kindle Universal Link | iBookStore | B&N | Kobo

Print Buy-Links

JMS Books, LLC | Amazon Universal Link | B&N

Promo - Teaser - Promo - Blurb - ’Til Death Do Us Part

#RainbowSnippets – March 18, 2017 – WIP with Wes & Mike

I’ve joined the Rainbow Snippets group on Facebook. From their description: “Rainbow Snippets is a group for LGBTQ+ authors, readers, and bloggers to gather once a week to share six sentences from a work of fiction–a WIP or a finished work or even a 6-sentence book recommendation (no spoilers please!).” Pretty cool, eh? Don’t forget to “Like” my Facebook page and/or my Facebook profile while you’re over there checking out this fantastic group!

Rainbow

Today I’m posting a snippet from an as-yet-unnamed WIP which will be a total from-the-ground-up overhaul of my old story A Dream Come True. The rewrite is told entirely from Mike’s 1st person POV (whereas the original was in both Mike and Wes’s 3rd person POV). While it will be essentially retelling the same basic story, this overhaul is significant enough I feel it deserves a fresh and shiny new title.

These are the opening 6 lines:

Chat up a telemarketer—that was one thing I’d rather do. Or engage in a conversation with someone handing out religious tracts on a street corner. Maybe ask that burly guy with the perpetual frown at the Express Lube to help me out with a little manscaping. I shuddered. No, maybe not that one.

Point being, there were plenty of things I’d rather do than face another roommate interviewee.

#RainbowSnippets


17264256_10155255064080815_6511884580384328176_n

FYI, JMS Books, LLC is having a 30% off sale this weekend. All ebooks in the store (including pre-orders) are 30% off through Sunday!

Here’s a handy link to mine:

http://www.jms-books.com/index.php?main_page=index&manufacturers_id=185

Kindle Unlimited

The books are also all available for #FREE download with your #KindleUnlimited subscription.

Amazon Universal: Author.to/Amazon_AddisonAlbright

Rainbow Snippets

Flash Fiction Friday – Prompt Word Ficlet – March 17, 2017

Flash Fiction Friday

This week I’m using 15 random prompt words for my Flash Fiction Friday story scene. I got one word (hamburger) from the comments of last week’s post, and 14 words (screw – conduct – degree – square – print – clever – existence – boot – famous – crack – hungry – hands – ignite – stiff) from a random word generator (screenshot below).

Screenshot 2017-03-16 13.16.09

This week I wrote another random standalone scene, unrelated to any of my existing publications or returning flash fiction characters. I think it might be my shortest non-drabble to date, coming in at only 244 words:

Screw that,” Andy said. “I’m hungry. Let’s go get some hamburgers or something before we get on any more rides.

“The line’s not going to get any shorter, you know.” Grant stood stiffly with his hands on his hips, tapping one gleaming ankle boot on the asphalt, and one eyebrow hiked up so far its very existence was in question, since it was out of sight behind his—admittedly long—side-swept bangs. Grant was famous among their circle of friends for his over-the-top theatrical conduct. “And I can’t stay late, I’ve got to get up at the ass-crack of dawn for work tomorrow. Boss-man from hell doesn’t care that today’s St. Patrick’s Day.”

“But I’m so hungry, I could…” Andy’s gaze landed on a strikingly good-looking man with green-streaked blond hair who’d just gotten into the line in question, and his attitude took a sharp one-hundred-eighty degree turn. It wasn’t a guarantee, but there was a good chance the guy was gay, wearing a shirt with rainbow lettering printed on a black square, stating, “He who is born round won’t die square.” Which was a clever Sicilian proverb meaning people don’t change their fundamental nature. So, yeah, the rainbow lettering was a clue. “Actually, come on. Like you said, it’s not getting any shorter.”

Grant’s eyes about popped out of his head. “What the hell ignited a—oh.” He turned and started walking. “Just because you saw him first does not mean you have dibs.”

Leave a prompt word in the comments, below, and I’ll use it in next week’s Flash Fiction Friday post. One word per commenter, please, up to 15 total.


If you’d like to enter a big giveaway that includes signed print copies of ’Til Death Do Us Part (which includes the short story, From This Day Forward), To Love and To Cherish, and Snapshots (my collection of eleven short stories), then hurry on over to Day 4 on the Diverse Reader week-long March Madness party: http://diversereader.blogspot.com/2017/03/march-madness-week-long-giveaway-day-4.html

 

Getting a little of Myles’ (Emmitt’s) POV – March 15, 2017

To Love and To Cherish is told entirely from Nash’s point of view, and although I stand by that decision for various reasons, I thought it would be fun to pick some scenes to redo from Myles’ (Emmitt’s) point of view. Here’s a link to the category including all of these alternate POV scenes. Links to other bonus scenes for To Love and To Cherish, as well as from some of my other published works, can be found in the “Bonus Scenes” category in the menu at the top of the page.

So far I’ve rewritten all of Chapter 1 to show it from Myles’/Emmitt’s perspective, as well as a random scene from Chapter 3. Today’s post is a bit longer, and is a scene from Chapter 9 that I thought would be good to see from Myles’/Emmitt’s POV:

Random Scene – Chapter 9

The regular chirping of the heart rate monitor soothed Emmitt’s nerves. Many people might not find it comforting, hating hospitals in general, but to Emmitt it meant Nash was doing well.

Emmitt’s mood had swung sharply from cheery, at the turn his life had recently taken, to alarmed when he’d received Harley’s panicked call using Nash’s phone. As much as he recognized Nash would be facing a difficult next couple of months, at least he now knew his fiancé could expect a full recovery.

Nash stirred on the bed as Clancy stood on the other side of it, checking the IV. Clancy looked down at Nash and smiled one of those jaunty smiles the nurses gave patients to boost their moods. “How are you feeling?”

Emmitt put his hands on the armrests ready to rise, but stilled again when Nash spoke.

“My fiancé,” he croaked. “Was he hurt? Is he okay?”

While it was heartwarming that Nash was concerned about him—all things considered—it was mildly concerning that he didn’t remember the accident enough to know Emmitt hadn’t been involved in it. Not entirely unusual, though.

Clancy glanced at Emmitt. “Oh, no. Don’t worry, Nash, you were the only one hurt. Dr. Burlingham wasn’t even in the car, and Harley and Oliver are both fine.” He paused. “What do you remember?”

Nash paused a moment and stared blankly at Clancy before replying. “No,” he rasped. “I don’t remember the accident.”

Emmitt stood and stepped to the other side of the bed. “You have a mild concussion in addition to your arm injury. Don’t worry. It’s not unusual for people to not be able to remember the accident.”

“Okay,” Nash slurred. He appeared to still be a bit dazed from the anesthetic.

Nash’s left arm was in a cast, so Emmitt picked up Nash’s right hand and held it between his palms. “I’ll go speak to Dr. Beltran. He performed your surgery, so he’ll come in and assess you. I can’t…obviously…but between the concussion and the infection risk from the compound fracture, you’ll probably be spending a night here in the hospital.”

Poor Nash appeared so pale, muddled, and in obvious pain, Emmitt wanted desperately to be able to ease all of it instantly. If only such a thing were possible. He raised Nash’s hand to his lips and kissed the back of it, then patted it gently and carefully laid it back on the bed.

Nash stared blankly, then gave a weak smile. Emmitt turned and left the room to find his partner, Dr. Jordan Beltran.

When they returned, Nash seemed more wakeful, but also seemed further distressed. Emmitt took a deep breath to calm his nerves. Jordan glanced at the Patient Controlled Anesthesia pump and asked, “How’s your pain level, Nash, on the comparative pain scale from one to ten?”

Nash opened his mouth, then paused, as if thinking before he replied, “Eight. At least. It’s pretty bad.”

Jordan nodded. “Use your PCA as needed. I’ll repeat all this tomorrow, after your anesthesia has completely worn off, but to ease your mind for now I’ll tell you that your prognosis is good. For an open fracture, this one was minor. The debridement and irrigation went smoothly, and internal fixation was successful. You’re all closed up.

“Antibiotics were started promptly in the ER, and we’ll continue an antibiotic regimen until you’re released, possibly tomorrow. You did require a transfusion in the ER…three units. This cast will come off in about three weeks so we can remove the stitches, then you’ll get a fresh cast for the remainder.”

He pulled out his mini light to check Nash’s eye dilation, then used an ophthalmoscope to look inside the fundi. He proceeded to check eye movement for a more thorough concussion check than he’d been able to accomplish when Nash was unconscious.

“I’d still call this concussion on the mild end of the scale. Myles said you don’t remember the accident, is that right?”

“Right,” Nash replied. “And Clancy said no one else was hurt?”

“Correct. It wasn’t a car accident, although you were in the backseat of a Jeep when it happened. Apparently you had your arms in the air enjoying the feel of the rushing air, and a large bird swooped down and slammed into your arm.”

“Huh. Well, leave it to me to find such a crazy was to end up in the ER.” Nash reached up to touch the bandage on his forehead.

“You’ve got some bruising and a few sutures there. Nothing major. Tell me about the last thing you do remember,” Jordan asked. “Do you remember what you did this morning?”

“Uh, had breakfast and went for a ride with Harley and Oliver.”

Emmitt narrowed his eyes. Did Nash not remember that they’d been transferring the last of his belongings to Emmitt’s apartment? “Where were you going?”

“I…uh…don’t remember that part.”

Emmitt stilled, and Nash’s panicked mein began to make sense. “What did you do yesterday?”

“It’s…a little fuzzy. I’m sure it’ll come back to me soon. That’s not a big deal, is it?”

It was a huge deal. Colossal. Emmitt’s heart sank. If Nash didn’t remember yesterday, there was a good chance he was missing a couple months, at least. “I think it might be.”

“What’s the last thing you do remember?” Jordan asked.

“Coming home from work. Hanging out before dinner.”

Emmitt willed himself not to fidget, and tried not to project the apprehension that flowed through him at Nash’s evasive words. “One more question.” He took a deep breath, fearing the reply, but he had to know. “When you woke up here a few minutes ago, you asked Clancy if your fiancé was okay. To whom were you referring?”

♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

dont-forget-the-old-ones-1200x700

♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

Blurb: To Love and To Cherish

Will Nash find love again? Of course he will. Will he go about it in the usual manner? Now that’s another story entirely.

Jilted by his fiancé two weeks before their wedding, Nash Marino’s outlook on life in general, and love in particular, is jaded. After months of couch-surfing, Nash is fed up. He’s sick and tired of his living conditions, worn out by the demands of his nursing job, and despairs of ever finding love again. In fact, he doesn’t think he’s capable of true love. Monogamy, commitment, companionship, and regular sex…that’s all he wants, and the sooner, the better.

When Nash crosses paths with a like-minded man who’s also in need of a live-in nurse for a beloved relative, Nash figures all his problems are solved. Matters are complicated by a freak accident and amnesia. When Nash’s marriage of convenience scheme is muddied by notions of love after his memory reboot, will their plans go awry, or will Nash’s new outlook on life be just what the doctor ordered?

♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

Links: To Love and To Cherish

Excerpt/Info/Review Links | Goodreads

eBook Links

(Read it for FREE with your Kindle Unlimited subscription)

JMS Books, LLC | Kindle Universal
iBookStore | Barnes & Noble | Kobo | BookStrand | Blio

Print Links

JMS Books, LLC | Amazon Universal | Barnes & Noble

Flashback Scenes from Sam’s POV – No. 15, Chap. 17

The flashback scenes in ’Til Death Do Us Part chronicle the time from when Henry and Sam first began their courtship through to the night before Henry leaves on his ill-fated flight. To catch up with the flashback scenes previously posted, click this link to the the category archives: https://authoraddisonalbright.com/category/til-death-do-us-part/flashback-scenes-from-sams-pov/. Additional bonus scenes can be found via the menu at the top of this page.

This series of blog posts was motivated by a comment from one of the book’s reviewers, Bethany at Rainbow Gold Reviews, who made the comment that she wished the flashback scenes had been from Sam’s POV instead of from Henry’s.


This week’s scene is from the 15th flashback in the book, found at the beginning of Chapter 17 (Note: Chapters 1 and 15 did not have flashback scenes).

This one’s short and minimalist. I didn’t go adding bonus thoughts for Sam except to replace corresponding thoughts Henry had in the original.

Sam bounced in place and smiled reflexively as Henry hurried toward baggage claim. It had been seven longs weeks since they’d seen each other—in person, anyway, not counting Skype. When he arrived at the empty luggage carousel, Henry tapped his foot and stared at the backs of the people in front of him.

Clearly, he hadn’t noticed Sam waiting. Sam snuck up behind him and took a deep breath of Henry’s scent before murmuring, “How was Greenland?”

Henry jumped, but his smile was wide when he spun and threw his arms around Sam’s waist.

“Damn, I missed you!” he said. “And the answer to your question is ‘cold.’ So how was India?”

“Hot.”

Henry tightened his arms, giving Sam a big squeeze. “Much as I appreciated being able to see and talk to you every day, thanks to modern technology, nothing quite beats getting a big hug from you in person.”

“Nothing? At all?”

Henry smirked. “Well, I’ll think about it on the drive home and let you know if I come up with any ideas.”

♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

’Til Death Do Us Part

Excerpt/Info/Review Links | Goodreads

eBook Buy-Links

JMS Books, LLC | Kindle Universal Link | iBookStore | B&N | Kobo

Print Buy-Links

JMS Books, LLC | Amazon Universal Link | B&N

Promo - Teaser - Promo - Blurb - ’Til Death Do Us Part

Flash Fiction Friday – Prompt Word Ficlet -March 10, 2017

Flash Fiction Friday

This week I’m using 15 random prompt words for my Flash Fiction Friday story scene. I got one word (champagne) from the comments of last week’s post, and 14 words (bike – aromatic – bad – limit – hiss – bow – squeeze – train – soap – snow – improve – rainy – pain – grass) from a random word generator (screenshot below).

Screenshot 2017-03-08 21.25.31

This week I wrote a random standalone scene, unrelated to any of my existing publications or returning flash fiction characters:

Darren squeezed through a group of passengers standing near the exit and stepped off the train. He pulled up the hood of his jacket and hummed “Rainy Days and Mondays” as he made his way to the bike rack. A deep-toned hiss behind him indicated the doors had shut and the train would move on to its next stop.

Mondays were usually bad enough, but he’d reached his limit today when his pain-in-the-ass boss had dumped another project on his desk and announced he’d probably have to work through the next weekend to meet the deadline. There hadn’t been much he could do except bow his head in acceptance of his employer’s decree. Could his day—no, week—possibly get any worse?

“Could be worse,” a deep voice behind him said, as if its owner could read his mind. “At least it isn’t snow.”

Darren turned toward the holder of that sonorous sound, and his heart leapt into his throat, blocking the automatic reply he’d intended. Instead, he stood with his mouth hanging open, staring at the greenest eyes he’d ever seen. They were green as fresh grass on an early spring day, and framed by strawberry blond hair that seemed the perfect accompaniment to the aromatic cologne or soap the man wore that hinted of the apple-y floral scent of a fine French champagne.

Instead of raising a haughty eyebrow at his graceless reaction, the man smiled widely as his head tilted inquiringly to the side as if he both recognized and returned Darren’s undefended interest. “Hi.” He put out a hand for Darren to shake. “My name’s Stuart.”

Darren grasped the offered hand and found his voice. “Darren. And you’re right. It could be worse.” In fact, it was starting to improve already.

Leave a prompt word in the comments, below, and I’ll use it in next week’s Flash Fiction Friday post. One word per commenter, please, up to 15 total.

King Kong vs. The Skinny Pirate – POV Switch Part 2

Promo - Teaser - King Kong vs. The Skinny Pirate

I kind of like rewriting various scenes from my published stories in an alternate POV to post here on the blog. If you check out the Bonus Scenes tab at the top of the page, you’ll find links to those, as well as other bonus scenes for some of my stories.

Today’s post is the second part of the opening scene from King Kong vs. The Skinny Pirate. The first part can be found here. The published (FREE) short story is told entirely from Blaine’s POV. Using 1st-person perspective, here’s how George perceived this scene:

Mr. ‘Captain Morgan Rum and Diet Coke’ crossed his arms, and his jaw tightened with a scowl. The man hadn’t earned the money to buy that fancy suit by being stupid—he knew I was laughing at him. He sucked in a deep breath and slowly blew it out, then took a sip of his Skinny Pirate. “What’s your name,” he asked. “Or should I just call you ‘King Kong’?”

I laughed. It was good to know the guy had a sense of humor and could take a joke. “That depends. You wanna be my Ann Darrow?”

“Blaine will do fine, thanks.” Not bad. I’d half expected something like Preston or Bentley, but it still fit him well enough. Kind of like my name fit me.

“George. My name’s George.”

Blaine put out a hand. “Pleased to meet you, George.” It looked like I was maybe gonna to get laid tonight after all. I took his hand in mine. It was warm and dry—always a plus when you’re hopin’ to have those hands on your naked body in the near future. “So what do you do? Mechanic?”

I smiled and looked at the traces of grease embedded in my fingernails. “Never can get it all off, no matter how much I scrub.”

“It’s honest work,” Blaine replied.

I leaned back and considered the guy. Maybe he wasn’t as snobby as I’d supposed. “It is. Hard, sweaty, and grubby.” I grinned and went for broke. “Kinda like good sex.”

Blaine’s eyes widened a bit, but I figured it was a good sign his jaw didn’t drop, so I pushed on.

“How ’bout you, Blaine? I don’t get the impression you work with your hands.” That probably deserved an understatement of the year award.

“I’m an attorney.”

“I was gonna guess either that or some kinda corporate raider.”

Blaine smiled. “Well, I’m the attorney for a corporate raider, so you got a pretty good read on me.”

“There now, you see? We’ve got two things in common. We’re both pretty astute observers.”

“That’s one thing. What’s the other?”

I tipped my head to the side. “We’re both horny gay men.” I grinned again. “And here I’d just complimented your powers of observation.”

Blaine laughed. “You got me there.”

“So the question is, what are we going to do about it?” I figured I’d put the ball in his court since I’d already made my intentions clear enough. I didn’t have to wait more than a couple heartbeats for his reply.

“I believe this is the point where one of us asks, ‘your place or mine’?” Blaine tossed back the rest of his drink and raised his eyebrows.

Hell yes, I was gonna get laid. My smile couldn’t have been any broader. “I cleaned my apartment and everything, too.”

Click this link for more information about King Kong vs. The Skinny Pirate.

logo-BookBub
I’m on BookBub now!


Download King Kong vs. The Skinny Pirate for FREE!

JMS Books, LLC – EPUB, MOBI, PDF, HTML
Smashwords – EPUB, MOBI, PDF, LRF, PDB, TXT, HTML
Amazon Kindle – Universal Link – Kindle Format (AZW)
iBookStore – iBook Format (EPUB)
Barnes & Noble – Nook Format (EPUB)
Kobo – eBook Format (EPUB)
BookStrand – EPUB, MOBI, PDF, HTML
Blio – EPUB, Blio Format
Google Play – EPUB, PDF
Scribd – iPaper

placeit-4-kkvtsp

Flash Fiction Friday – Photo Shoot Bonus Scene – 15 Random Prompt Words

Flash Fiction Friday

This week I’m using 15 random prompt words for my Flash Fiction Friday story scene. I got one word (coffee) from the comments of last week’s post, and 14 words (build – office – furtive – approach – near – upbeat – receipt – open – undesirable – string – pen – note – smell – lackadaisical) from a random word generator (I used a new one this week).

screenshot-2017-03-02-16-59-40

This week you’re getting a bonus continuation scene for Photo Shoot, one of the short stories in my Snapshots collection. This is from Eddie’s 3rd-person POV:

Eddie cast furtive glances down the halls of the fine arts building as he passed near the art department offices. The smell of coffee hung in the air, and an upbeat instrumental melody of mixed string instruments drifted out as he approached the open door to the studio where he was supposed to meet Trent.

Ever since posing for that nude photo shoot for his now-boyfriend’s project, he’d been reluctant to go anywhere near the department where the panel of instructors who’d passed judgment on the assignment might be hanging around, and—God forbid—recognize him. Trent knew it, too. He knew Eddie would come up with excuses if Trent asked to meet him anywhere in the building. He knew this from experience. That’s probably why he’d left a cryptic note written on the back of a receipt—so Eddie wouldn’t have the opportunity to come up with some pretext for not meeting him. He’d used that purple pen with ink that smelled fruity as if that would sweeten the deal. It hadn’t.

A woman walked briskly out of the room in question and did a double-take as she strode past. “Trent’s already in there. Go on in.” She turned the corner before Eddie had even registered she was talking to him.

Heat infused his face, and he stopped short of the door. He’d never met that woman before. How did she know he was meeting Trent? Had she seen—

“Eddie!” Trent appeared in the doorway, a huge smile on his face. “You made it!”

More voices drifted out of the room, so he could discount the notion that the woman had made a logical assumption based on Trent being the only one in there. “Yeah. You ready to go?”

Trent seemed confused as he scratched the side of his nose. “Go where?”

“Huh?”

Laughter and a middle-aged rail-thin woman wafted out into the hall. “Ah, there you are, Trent.” She smiled in Eddie’s direction. “And I see your Eddie’s arrived. Come in and join the party.”

Party? Eddie’s eyes widened, but Trent took his hand, possibly sensing Eddie’s urge to run in the opposite direction. “The department’s having a little celebration. One of the professors is getting married.”

“I’m Celia Hall,” the woman continued. “Has Trent had the chance to explain my offer to you, yet?”

Oh, dear God. Did he want to know? “Offer?”

“I need a model for my sculpture class. I think you’d be perfect.”

Perfect? The way Trent looked at him, he’d come to accept he wasn’t exactly undesirable, but he was hardly flawless. Of course, artsy folks maybe wanted imperfections to make things interesting.

“Oh, uh, geez. I don’t know…”

“It pays twenty dollars per hour.”

Eddie’s eyebrows shot up. His gaze darted to Trent, then back to Professor Hall. He opened then closed his mouth. Twenty dollars per hour? He could really use that extra money. He had to at least consider it. “Clothes?”

She shook her head. “Nope.”

His cheeks puffed out as he slowly released a stream of air. Could he really do it? He hadn’t thought he could handle posing for just Trent, but in the end, he’d felt comfortable enough. Maybe it was all about the attitude. He couldn’t walk in there all red-faced and obviously mortified, but if he could cultivate a lackadaisical mien, he could maybe bluff his way through the experience.

“Twenty, huh?”

She smiled, looking every bit like she knew she had him hooked. “Per hour.”

With a soft groan, he closed his eyes. When he reopened them, Trent winked. Bastard had no shame, whatsoever. Eddie’s “okay” sounded a bit whiney, but she didn’t seem put out by the tone.

“Wonderful. I’ll get your contact information from Trent and be in touch.”

Mission accomplished, she returned to the party.

How Trent managed to look so innocent standing there was a mystery. “You tricked me,” Eddie said, but the words lost some of their intended effect since he had trouble resisting a spontaneous grin in response to the thumb Trent was rubbing across his wrist.

“Aw, you’re too self-conscious. There was no reason for you to avoid showing your face in this building.” Trent leaned in to kiss his cheek. A delicious shiver rippled through him as Trent’s warm breath floated across his ear. “And, I’ll be sure to show you how much I appreciate you joining me here, later.”

Leave a prompt word in the comments, below, and I’ll use it in next week’s Flash Fiction Friday post. One word per commenter, please, up to 15 total.

Promo - Teaser - Snapshots

Click here for more information, review snips, and  purchase-links for Snapshots. Information on all my publications can be found in the menu at the top of the page.