friends to lovers

Available Now! Adjoining Rooms, by Alex Winters @awintersromance #friendstolovers #agegap #silverfox

March 28, 2023 by Adriana Kraft

RECENT RELEASE BLITZ

Book Title: Adjoining Rooms

Author: Alex Winters

Publisher: JMS Books, LLC

Release Date: March 4, 2023

Genre: Contemporary M/M Romance

Tropes: friends to lovers, age gap, silver fox, frisky neighbors, public nudity

Themes: compassion, comfort, safe landing

Heat Rating: 4 flames

Length: 18 694 words

It is a standalone story and does not end on a cliffhanger.

Goodreads

Buy Links

JMS Books | Amazon US | Amazon UK

One knock could change their lives forever…

Blurb

Knox Townsend can hardly believe it when he walks into Playgroundz Café Store #57 to find his old high school crush, Trevor Channing, working the cash register. Once upon a time, the two had shared a smoldering, passionate, once in a lifetime kiss while their prom dates were passed out and… never spoke of it again. Suddenly, Knox is Trevor’s boss and back in tiny Seaside, Florida for the next week to convert his cold brew coffee machines to the upgraded model. But suddenly, the only thing Knox really wants to upgrade are his feelings for Trevor, long simmering but suddenly reignited. This time, Knox hopes, for good!

Trevor hasn’t seen Knox in four years, ever since he left town right after graduation without so much as a backward glance, let alone anything as civil as a goodbye. Suddenly he is Trevor’s boss, in town for a whole week to oversee his franchise café’s equipment upgrades and staying at the same hotel where they’d shared their first, and only, kiss: the Seaside Inn. What Knox doesn’t know is that one of the front desk clerks is his regular customer at Playgroundz Café’ and, for a few free gift cards and extra soy whip on his daily latte, Trevor has just checked into the room next door to Knox’s. The room with the adjoining doors he plans to keep unlocked all week, just in case.

Excerpt

Knox slid close, if only to breathe in Trevor’s vaguely innocent scent and feel the heat wafting from his lean, tempting body. “You know what I have in mind, tease.”

“Listen, let’s not rush things,” Trevor chuckled wryly, enjoying his time in the cat bird seat. “I mean, you’re here all week, right?”

They stood halfway between the sushi bar and the hotel lobby, Trevor’s Jeep—at least, Knox assumed it was his Jeep, owing to the half dozen Playgroundz Café stickers littering the bumper—the only car left in the otherwise empty parking lot. “Fine, sure, if you’re playing hard to get or whatever, I get it, but you’ve still had, like, three carafes of sake, so…why not stay the night and drive in tomorrow when you’re good and sober, you know?”

“Hmmm, tempting,” Trevor teased, digging his hands in the front pockets of his faded salmon cargo shorts while gently drifting from foot to foot in the empty parking lot. “Even if I’ve only had two carafes and I could probably, maybe, kinda drive tonight.”

“Why risk it, old pal?” Knox murmured, clutching a handful of Trevor’s casual sea foam T-shirt in his grip and tugging him toward the stairwell that led to his room on the second floor. “Besides, second chances, right?”

Trevor rolled his eyes even as he followed dutifully. “Good thing the old Seaside Inn still has two queen size beds in every room,” he muttered, still playing coy even as Knox found it harder and harder to walk with every step toward the possibility of another dreamy kiss with his first, and most powerful, boy crush.

“Jesus, Trev, when did you become such a prude?”

“Hmmmmm, not sure,” Trevor mused as he drifted up the steps a pace or two in front of Knox. “Maybe the day you left town without a second glance, let alone another word. Probably then, Knox, is when I became such a prude.”

Trevor stood on the second-floor landing, turning slightly to make room for Knox. They stood, face to face, nearly the same height, and Trevor’s full lips, glossy and thick, aglow beneath the dim light just above. “This feels weird, right?”

Knox snorted, dragging the old school hotel room keychain from his pocket, the key dangling from the vaguely Christmas tree shaped plastic that still had the room number printed under the faded Seaside Inn logo: 224.

“Which part?” He drifted down the hallway toward his room, the air warm and soft on their skin as Knox slowly followed. “Me showing up in your café this morning? Me being your boss? Me being in town? Me drinking too much sake? Or, oh yeah, me staying in the same hotel where we first, you know…”

They were at his door now. Knox’s heart was pounding, his palms sweaty and hands trembling as he struggled to slither the key into the lock. It finally stumbled in, but they didn’t, the door only partly open as Knox felt Trevor still had more to say before finally coming inside.

“Kissed?” Trevor finished for him. “You can say it, you know? It happened, right? It wasn’t just a dream of mine?”

Knox nodded, voice soft and low to match his confessional gaze. “It happened, Trevor. I wanted it to happen. Wanted it to happen since that first time I saw you in homeroom.” He drifted closer, so close, on the empty walkway. Trevor was leaning back against the wrought iron railing across from the half-open door, as if waiting for something. Knox wasn’t sure what. Maybe even Trevor wasn’t sure what. Both of them, it seemed, were grasping at straws, cocky in ways neither of them truly felt, and shy in others. It felt like starting over, and Knox was as nervous as he’d ever been.

“Phew, okay, because…we never talked about it, you know?”

“I’m tired of talking about it,” Knox grunted, inching closer as he put a hand on either side of Trevor’s along the weathered upstairs railing.

Trevor swallowed. Hard. And loud. Loud enough for Knox to hear. “Me too,” he squeaked, involuntarily licking his lips. “So, what are we gonna do about it?”

Knox leaned gently in, winked and gave Trevor a soft, smooth, aborted kiss. With another wink he stepped back and reached for the doorknob. “Come inside, Trev, and find out.”

About the Author

Alex Winters is the pseudonym of a busy restaurant manager whose curious young staff would love nothing more than to follow him around the dining room reading his steamiest, most romantic passages aloud! When not writing romantic holiday stories of various heat levels, he enjoys long walks with his wife, scary movies and smooth jazz. Visit him at www.awintersromance.com to see what stories are brewing up next!

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Five Things You Should Know About the Victorian Mansion Series by @JanaRichards #SweetRomance #Excerpts

February 3, 2023 by Adriana Kraft

Those of you who know me know that I never leave the door closed on explicit sex scenes. I don’t write sweet romance. But I do love to read it, and Jana Richards is an author you should definitely get to know, if you don’t already. She is my blog guest today, with two books from her Victorian Mansion sweet romance series.

Five Things You Should Know About the Victorian Mansion Series

Both books in the series take place in a big, Victorian-style house in Toronto. I call it a mansion, but the century-and-a-half year-old house is mostly a wreck. It was once elegant, but over the years it was converted into apartments and stripped of much of its original charm.
The main characters of each book (Chelsea and Matt in RESCUE ME and Darcy and Nick in TAKE A CHANCE ON ME) meet when they live across the hall from each other in the mansion.
For most of the characters, living at the Victorian mansion is temporary. They like the old place and can appreciate how grand it must have been, but only Darcy has a deep connection to the house. That’s because she lived there with her parents until she was eight years old.
Several scenes take place at Malone’s, an Irish pub and restaurant. Matt’s brothers own the pub, and they try to convince him to work full-time with them. But Matt has dreams of being an actor, and though he’s struggling, those dreams won’t die.
Nick buys the Victorian mansion with the intention of tearing it down to build a condo complex. But his motivation to build something new has nothing to do with earning a profit.

And bonus Fact:

I totally rewrote TAKE A CHANCE ON ME in 2022, taking it from a sexy, sensual read to a sweet romance with closed door love scenes. It was a lot harder than I thought it would be, but I couldn’t be happier with the results. I believe it’s an even better book!

Rescue Me – Book 1

Genre: Contemporary sweet romance
Keywords: Sweet romance, contemporary romance, neighbors, chef hero
Heat Level: sweet

Blurb:

Chelsea Andrews can’t decide who’s more dangerous—the creep on the Toronto city bus, or the handsome stranger who rescues her. Was he acting, as he claimed, or is he that weird in real life? She doesn’t stick around to find out. Fate intervenes when her rescuer, out of work actor Matt Malone, sublets the apartment next door. Chelsea soon discovers the most dangerous thing about her charming new neighbor is the damage he’s inflicting on her heart.

Or is it? Soon after Matt moves in, strange romantic notes begin showing up at the art gallery where Chelsea works. Then she’s followed home from the bus stop late one night, and her apartment is broken into. Despite her growing feelings for Matt, all the evidence points to him as the culprit.

Matt is at a crossroads. His acting career is stalled, and all his siblings are getting married and having babies while his love life is non-existent. Something has to change. Things begin to look up for Matt when he moves next door to Chelsea. He’s totally captivated by the beautiful blonde and wants to take their relationship to the next level. But when he discovers what Chelsea suspects about him, his plans are put in jeopardy. And how can he protect her from the real stalker?

Is Matt the kind, funny, sincere man Chelsea is falling in love with, or some kind of letter-writing stalker? She must decide whether he is a dream come true or her worst nightmare.

Buy Links:

Amazon ~ Amazon CA ~ Amazon UK

Excerpt:

Matt set her on her feet but kept his arms around her, holding her close against him.

“You must be my good luck charm. There’s an old Irish custom that says if you kiss your lucky charm three times, your luck will triple.”

“You’re making that up.”

Matt called on every ounce of acting skill he possessed to keep the innocent look on his face. “Would I lie to you?”

Before she could answer, he kissed her cheek, his lips lingering over the silky skin.

“That’s once.”

He kissed her other cheek, moving as slowly as possible to make the moment last. His head filled with her delicate fragrance, and his hands shook as he drew her closer. He felt her small hands clutch at the fabric of his shirt.

“That’s twice.”

Her green eyes stared into his, her confused thoughts shining through. Two matching spots of pink on her cheeks made her look like a delicate porcelain doll. Her lips parted slightly, as if asking him to kiss her.

They didn’t have to ask twice.

Matt bent his head and brought his lips to hers, fully intending the kiss to be short and chaste. But when he heard her soft moan, all honorable intentions flew out the window. He crushed her against him, plundering her soft mouth with deep, probing kisses. Her arms wound around his neck, and her fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer. Then suddenly she pulled away. Putting her hands on his chest and pushing gently, she stepped out of his embrace.

“That’s three times,” she whispered. She ran a shaking hand through her disheveled hair. “I hope it brings you lots of luck.” She busied herself getting teacups and spoons.

“Chelsea?”

“Hmm?”

“I made up that stuff about the kisses bringing good luck.”

Her hands stilled and the smile she gave him was tense and completely fake. “I know. So, are we going to eat that cheesecake or what?”

Was she trying to pretend the kiss didn’t happen, that attraction didn’t burn white-hot between them?

Not possible.

Take a Chance on Me – Book 2

Genre: Contemporary sweet Romance
Keywords: contemporary romance, sweet romance, humor, Canadian setting, love at first sight, neighbors, fear of intimacy, enemies to lovers.
Heat Level: sweet

Blurb:

Teacher Darcy Ferris loves travel almost as much as she loves her Toronto neighborhood. But no matter how far she roams, she always returns to the genteelly shabby Victorian mansion where she grew up, the last place her father lived. Darcy’s world is turned upside-down when the Victorian is slated for demolition.

Since the death of architect Nick Cummings’ mother, his father has retreated from his real estate development business, and from life. In a desperate attempt to interest him in something once more, Nick buys a beat-up Victorian mansion and draws up plans to replace it with a Victorian-inspired condo. He hopes his father’s old spark will return if he helps him build the new condo. But he doesn’t expect such opposition from his new tenant, Darcy Ferris. Nor does he expect to fall in love with her.

Nick and Darcy must come to terms with the past before they can forge a future together. And they’ll need to take the biggest chance of all – on love.

Buy Links:

Amazon ~ Amazon CA ~ Amazon UK

Excerpt:

When Nick pulled up in front of the Victorian mansion, Darcy was sitting on the front porch steps holding Stanley’s leash. On the other end of the leash, the pug sniffed the front yard in a wide arc, testing the limits of his confinement.

Nick scrambled out of his car. Maybe he could still explain, even if she’d already spoken to his dad’s assistant. Darcy wasn’t an unreasonable person.

But when he got to the porch and she lifted her face to look at him, he knew the time for explanations had passed. She patted the manila folder sitting beside her on the porch floor.

“I talked to my next-door neighbors. Seems they got one of these folders, too. So, you’re demolishing that house as well? One isn’t enough for you?”

He cleared his dry throat. “Actually, I bought your grandmother’s old house, too.”

“My grandmother’s house?” The shock on Darcy’s face quickly gave way to anger. Her mouth twisted in distaste. “You want to build some ugly glass and steel monstrosity in the middle of my neighborhood?”

“It won’t be like that. I designed the condo to fit with the architecture of the neighborhood.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” She blinked rapidly. “I thought you were my friend. I thought you cared about me. I poured my heart out to you. You could have given me the courtesy of the truth.”

“I promise you, Darcy. My condo will be an asset to the neighborhood.”

“You don’t get it, do you? This is my home. I don’t want something that fits into the neighborhood. I want this house.” She looked away, her breathing ragged. Then she turned angry brown eyes on him once more. “I’ll fight you. I’ll fight you with everything I have.”

Author bio:

Jana Richards has tried her hand at many writing projects over the years, from magazine articles and short stories to full-length contemporary romance, paranormal suspense and romantic comedy. She loves to create characters with a sense of humor, but also a serious side. She believes there’s nothing more interesting than peeling back the layers of a character to see what makes them tick.

When not writing up a storm or dealing with dust bunnies, Jana can be found pursuing hobbies such as golf (which she plays very badly) or reading (which she does much better).

Jana lives in Western Canada with her husband Warren and two senior cats named Layla and Leelou. You can reach her through her website at http://www.janarichards.com

Social Media Links:

Website: https://www.janarichards.com
Blog: https://janarichards.blogspot.com
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/JanaRichardsAuthor
Twitter: https://www.twitter.com/JanaRichards_
Amazon Author Page: https://www.amazon.com/author/janarichards
Amazon UK Author Page: https://www.amazon.co.uk/-/e/B002DEVWWG
Newsletter Signup: https://janarichards.com/contact.html#newsletter
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/2892274Jana_Richards
BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/jana-richards
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/janarichards155

Release Blitz: When the Glow Lights the Woods by Eule Grey (@EuleGrey) #LGBTQIA+ #fantasy

November 27, 2022 by Adriana Kraft

Title: When the Glow Lights the Woods

Author: Eule Grey

Publisher: NineStar Press

Release Date: 11/22/2022

Heat Level: 1 – No Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 28200

Genre: Fantasy, LGBTQIA+, alternate universe/dystopia, winter/Christmas festivity, gay, YA, coming of age, first love, teacher, animals, conflicting societies, rich vs. poor, physical difference, family drama, friends to lovers

Add to Goodreads

Description

A snowy story of healing, birds, and the magic of connection.

The Wall? Who gives a snowman’s kiss about when the wars ended, or who built the divide that goes all the way around the planet? Whatever!

All anyone cares about is Christmas, when one lucky person gets to date someone from the other side. Who will it be this year?

Eighteen-year-old Kite Ripples loves birds, animals, and gazing at stars. He’s a good brother to leader, Mal. Mostly. As teacher, it’s Kite’s responsibility to dispel the rumours about people on the other side being robots—just a myth, right? Deep down, he understands no human is better, or worse, than any other. And, if he dreams of meeting a guy like him—who wants to kiss—it doesn’t mean Kite’s a rebel. Not he!

Manu Feathers, also eighteen, lives on the other side. Gets into trouble. Likes boys. Breaks laws and wants more. Like everyone, he’s fixated on those over the divide—simultaneously scared and excited by rumours of too much sex. It’s a lot to get your head round.

Kite is selected to climb under the Wall, and it’s the best Christmas present ever. But nothing goes to plan. Instead of picking the perfect boy, all he notices is the guy on the end, acting out. Who’d choose a nuisance like him?

Can the highest Wall prevent first love? Can a kiss heal a baby bird?

Excerpt

When the Glow Lights the Woods
Eule Grey © 2022
All Rights Reserved

By breakfast time on the first day of December, I was dizzy with excitement. Drunk from the intoxicating question on everyone’s lips. Barely able to focus. More talkative than normal and in no way fit for work.

Is the Wall glowing?

I didn’t dare hope he’d allow me to skip duties, but it was worth a try.

“Mal? Can I miss work today? How about it, huh? It’s very important to be mentally ready. You know—because of representing our side. You don’t want me nodding off. I’m extremely tired from the, er, stress.”

Is the Wall glowing? Is it?

My brother remained strict and inferred I was a lazy oaf.

“Stress? Ha-ha, hee-hee. Nice try. Get out there, eighteen-year-old grandad! Sooner you start work, the sooner you’ll finish.”

Normally, I’d have stayed around to point out the scientific flaws in his doubtful logic but didn’t fancy a battle. Not so close to Christmas.

Despite sparkling frost and breaky-necky ice, duties beckoned. I fed the chickens and collected eggs—fifteen, woo-hoo. Attempted to fix their enclosure fence and forgot to close the gate. The hens squawked with glee and galloped off over the frozen parsnip fields. Not even such catastrophe dampened my spirits—I hopped over to my brother and innocently raked leaves.

“Ma-aal? Someone’s broken the fence. The hens are free. Could you?”

With herculean efforts, I survived the day, even managing a sneaky read, albeit a quickie. We weren’t supposed to read during work time. If my sister found out, there’d be trouble. Bar knocking myself unconscious, what else could a guy do? Reading remained the only certain method of calming frazzled nerves. My equilibrium, tenuous at best, was ruined by the magnitude of the occasion.

Glow day! Man-o-the-moon. After a lifetime of wishing, my dream hovered within a snowman’s breath. I, Kite Ripples, teacher—chosen to sound the annual alarm. Maybe. Hopefully. If the time was right.

A guard’s duties were fairly simple: on the first of the month, the anointed—me—trudged the length of the fruit fields and across Troll Bridge. Through Frogs Wood and onwards to the Wall, I went with the question mentally lit like the brightest fire.

Is it Glow Day?

The distance to the Wall from our caravan wasn’t far. The ground between tended towards bogginess, conditions often cold enough to freeze resolve. Still, it was a very easy journey. Just…follow the Wall. It ran through our land and on forever, covering the planet, or so people said. Not even Kite Ripples could get lost, and I was extremely talented in that particular department. My brother liked to tell stories of tying toddler me to the kissing tree because of my childish wandering habits. Always curious, even as a tiny boy.

We each got a turn to be guard, even me. At eighteen, I was the youngest of my generation and the only member not yet anointed. People said going under the Wall changed your life and perspectives. My sister, Ana, claimed the experience made her crave stability. Following anointment, she partnered Rich and produced three gorgeous kids. When I asked why going under the Wall caused such an effect, she shrugged and said I’d have to wait to find out. It was different for everyone.

According to Mal, the magic occurred during the infamous meeting between anointed and special person. Nobody agreed on the details. Many argued it manifested as immense happiness. Mal stuck with his theory about magic emanating from the glow like green, seeking fingers.

What if all I sensed was a stomachache? Kite Ripples got the sicks, ha-ha-ha.

Halfway through the tunnel, the anointed reached a metallic doorway positioned between two worlds. Some fled. My friend Luca had swivelled around at that point and headed for home.

I was determined not to run. Not me. Like my brother and sister before, I was hell-bent on reaching the other side and helping my people on their journey towards self-dependency.

Mal declared the return journey the most profound aspect of the whole process. Nobody remembered exactly what happened. Whereas most agreed the meetings were impactful, my brother claimed to have been ‘unchanged.’

Not true. Mal had been affected all right. Though normally a private fella who didn’t reveal much, following his anointment, he wept into my hair. Ever since, on the day of the glow, his eyes became starry, and he reached for the guitar. Despite my best efforts, he wouldn’t talk about what had happened over there.

The purpose of the meetings was simply to enable both sides to learn, to have experience without judgment. Our visits were strictly regulated by both sides. Elders had signed the important documents, such as aims and agreements, long before my time.

According to community histories, the elders were our parents. Who knew? They vanished when I was a baby. They’d set off with the intention of making alliances with lands beyond, far away, in the forbidden direction. None had returned. Amazingly, we survived, flourished, and expanded, even without elders. We lived off farms, orchards, rivers, and allotments, as well as a small library. Some years, we did well, others, not so good. It depended on the erratic, unpredictable seasons.

When the longest afternoon waned, Ana gave the nod, meaning I was allowed to set off. “Time to check the Wall. Be careful, Kite. Don’t trip and twist your ankle like Gurti.”

My sister always looked out for me, same as everyone in our land. I loved her and hoped to bring home good news. “I will. Don’t worry.”

Mal waited by the fence encircling our camp. He grinned and opened his arms. “My little brother. Are you ready for the glow?”

“Yeah!”

During the night, he said he wished he could accompany me. But, rules. The anointed must travel alone to check for the glow. It aided the process of ‘finding yourself’, according to Ana. Knowing me, I’d find myself and not like the person I met. Kite Ripples, anomaly.

My brother passed across a bag. “Water and emergency sandwich. Come straight home, yeah? If you’re not back by and by, I’ll come find you. Okay? If you fall and get hurt, just stay calm and wait.”

Worrying was not new. Mal, Ana, and the other older members of our camp tended to fear the worst. Because they remembered the elders leaving…

My brother had always babied me. Mal liked to be in charge, and I wasn’t as physically strong as the others. It bothered me when I was younger.

Despite a dodgy track record, I determined not to fall or do anything stupid. “I’m eighteen. Old enough to—well—tackle the world. Ha-ha. See you later.”

He watched me leave with arms crossed and an expression like a summer storm. “Be careful!”

As one, my community cheered my exit from camp. “Kite, Kite, Kite! Find the Christmas glow! Is the Wall glowing? Good luck. Don’t let robots turn you to stone.”

I tutted and laughed. “Ha, ha. Very funny. Not.”

Mal said the rumour about the other side behaving like robots wasn’t true—a night story for kids, nothing more. Still, artificial people… With a shudder, I’d hidden the only book in the library about robots with blank eyes and metallic antennae. No point in dwelling.

Despite Mal’s warning about being surefooted, I ran. My emotions ranged from high—low—extra-high—low. By Frogs Wood, I was a mess, questioning if the time was right. What if I’d made a mistake about days and times? It was possible yet not likely, since I was a community librarian and teacher. Nobody else bothered with books or dates.

Head down, so as not to spoil the surprise, I finally passed the last tree of Frogs Wood and stepped into the clearing. High—low—high-high-high.

Man-o-the-moon! Green, pink, and yellow lights arched across our dense woods in a resplendent rainbow. Sparkling stars flashed and merged with the subtle shades of nature.

For a while, I was caught by the visage of ancient forces of light and dark squaring up for a fight. I stood, frozen by a green glowing pulse battering the gloom before retreating over the Wall.

When coldness bit, I stumbled towards home with an unsteady, painful gait—run—lope—run—trip. Frogs Wood and the winding river. A stitch. Run—lope—stumble—trip—stagger onto Troll Bridge.

Ahead, I made out the shapes of our caravans and the outline of my waiting brother. Excitement burst free into a yell-cum-shout. “It’s lit! The Wall is lit by the glow. I’ve never seen anything like it. Christmastime, Mal. Woo-oo. Tomorrow, I get to go under!”

Instead of cheering as expected, my brother gazed towards the woods, hands clasped together across his heart. His expression was difficult to decipher.

“Always,” he said. “Always, my darling.”

“Mal! Puke.”

Purchase

NineStar Press | Books2Read

Meet the Author

Eule Grey has settled, for now, in the north UK. She’s worked in education, justice, youth work, and even tried her hand at butter-spreading in a sandwich factory. Sadly, she wasn’t much good at any of them!

She writes novels, novellas, poetry, and a messy combination of all three. Nothing about Eule is tidy but she rocks a boogie on a Saturday night!

For now, Eule is she/her or they/them. Eule has not yet arrived at a pronoun that feels right.

Website | Facebook | Twitter

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Ace of Hearts by Lucy Mason New Release Blitz and Giveaway! @ninestarpress @indigomarketingdesign #LGBTQIA+

October 8, 2022 by Adriana Kraft

Title: Ace of Hearts

Author: Lucy Mason

Publisher: NineStar Press

Release Date: 10/04/2022

Heat Level: 1 – No Sex

Pairing: Male/Female

Length: 60200

Genre: Contemporary, LGBTQIA+, Romance, contemporary, new adult, family-drama, asexual, college students, sports injury, fake marriage, slow burn, friends to lovers, abusive father, depression

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Description

Hesper Stalides and Felix Morlan have been best friends for as long as they can remember, bonding over their troubled home lives. When a horrible sports injury derails Felix’s promising career and results in the loss of his scholarship, Hesper offers a proposition: a year-long marriage of convenience so he can get free tuition at the college where she works.

It isn’t supposed to be complicated…until they fall in love for real. When Hesper reveals that she’s asexual, Felix must reassess everything he thinks about love and ask himself what he’s willing to sacrifice for a future with Hesper—before the past she’s spent her life running from can take her away from him forever.

Excerpt

Hesper

It was not my Felix Morlan lying in the hospital bed, tangled in the sterile white sheets. He was the bravest, funniest, most cheerful man I knew, strong enough to make up for it when his friends were weak, and this wasn’t him. I brushed his dark hair away from his forehead, which was glistening with sweat, pain hazing over his eyes.

“Sorry I scared you, Hes.” His voice cracked, and I handed him a Styrofoam cup filled with cold water and ice chips.

“I’m just glad you’re…”

Okay? Of course he wasn’t okay. One of his teammates had shown me a replay of the hit that had hyperextended his knee and destroyed his ACL. It had been on mute, and Felix was wearing a helmet that obscured part of his face, but the contorted expression of agony was seared into my memory. He may or may not have blacked out from the pain; I wasn’t sure because I quit watching, unable to stomach it.

“Want me to call the nurse?” I asked tentatively.

He turned his head away, but not before I caught the shine of tears gathering in his eyes. His leg was wrapped heavily in dressings, but I’d seen it when he came out of surgery, exhausted but too frightened to sleep while I waited. The skin around his knee was swollen, an angry red color where staples held the surgical wounds closed. I’d sat by his bed, sketching on the small pad I kept in Calamity, my old Jeep, while he slept off the anesthesia. But he was awake now, and he twisted his calloused hands in the sheets.

“They’ll be keeping me for observation for a few days. Go home and get some rest.”

“Nope.”

“Some of the guys from the team will stop by and—”

“Nope,” I reiterated firmly, crossing my arms.

It was a policy we’d had with each other our whole lives, and it didn’t change even when we’d moved halfway across the country together for college: we had nobody else here, but we had each other. He’d watched my back, and I would watch his. Felix and I had been best friends since we were old enough to walk and talk. Now, his mom was in jail while his dad was busy raising his six younger siblings, and I had run away from Missouri to avoid getting an order of protection against my own father. We’d basically raised each other. I wasn’t running away at the first sign of trouble.

“Show me.” He held out one hand for my sketch pad and I clutched it to my chest. “Come on.”

Normally this was fine. I’d draw tables covered in leaves, teacups and books and pocket watches and chunks of amethyst and rusty old keys, the kind of things I found aesthetically soothing. But I’d been doing something different while he slept, trying to erase the memory of his pain in the video replay of his injury. I’d drawn the slightly blocky angle of his jaw, his mouth turned up in half a smile, a five-o’clock shadow dusting the sides of his face. I’d drawn him happy, my best copy of the way he looked in my favorite memory of him.

I contemplated crumpling the page before he could see it.

Instead, I flipped back to an earlier page where I’d been doing a study of the trees outside his hospital window, light filtering through them in an orange haze as the sun rose. I hadn’t been able to quite capture it with the small bag of pencils I had on hand, but it was enough that he got the idea.

“Remind me again why you aren’t going into this?” He sounded clearer than he had in several hours, his eyes focused on my sketch pad. It was an uncomfortable feeling, to see someone marvel at my work. Like being under a microscope.

“No steady paycheck,” I reminded him, counting the reasons I’d rehearsed to people a hundred thousand times off on my fingers. “Deadlines would push me to create when I didn’t feel like it. I would grow to hate it if I had to do it for a living. The pressure would be too intense.”

I didn’t list the other reason. Sometimes it took every ounce of energy I possessed just to get up in the morning. Sometimes I simply didn’t have enough inside me to both function and create. Art was my escape. If I turned it into another source of stress, where would I hide when the rest of the world got to be too much? What would I do to restore the balance?

“Those are all good reasons,” he agreed begrudgingly, and he reached back over to hand the pad back to me, twisting slightly to do so.

He didn’t say a word but the set of his mouth and eyebrows told me he’d moved wrong, in a way that would have left him screaming if he hadn’t been so heavily medicated. My chest hurt, my lungs burning because I just couldn’t get enough oxygen in, because I couldn’t breathe looking at the way my best friend suffered. This was the sort of thing you read about in the paper or heard about on the news. It happened to other people, sure. But it wasn’t supposed to happen to Felix.

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Meet the Author

Lucy lives in rural southern Illinois with a frankly ridiculous amount of yarn and books. During the day she works in adult education and by night she’s a writer and dabbler in yarncrafts. She knits, loves video games and podcasts, and cries over fictional characters regularly.