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Burnout

January 16, 2020

I blogged on Love Bytes Reviews about the issue of burnout among genre authors in recent months and years. (Click the title in the link.)

Burnout

Flash Fiction and a Giveaway

December 27, 2019

I have a guest post today on Joyfully Jay, with a brief flash fiction prequel to Changes Coming Down, and a chance to win an ebook copy. Meet Scott, Casey, and Will a couple of years before the opening of the main mystery story, and enter the drawing for the novel. Check it out.

Guest Post and Giveaway: Changes Coming Down by Kaje Harper

My Favorite Reads of 2019

December 19, 2019

Every year, I’m amazed and delighted by how many wonderful and different stories keep coming out, from familiar favorite authors and great new finds. The ten books I picked for this year’s favorites list are a mix of my auto-buy authors and new-to-me writers who are now on my radar. Not all of these books are brand new releases, but I read them in 2019. All are books I reread at least once already.

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My very favorite for this year is Thrown Off the Ice by Taylor Fitzpatrick. This is not a romance as much as a love story— the funny, heart-breaking, poignant, gruff, sweet, devastating story of two men falling in love over 17 years. The end is bittersweet, but this account of two hockey players who take possession of each other’s hearts, throughout everything life throws at them, isn’t just a tearjerker. It’s filled with humor and warmth (and heat) too. It’s written in the matter-of-fact tone of a strong man facing up to the good, the bad, and the crazy, and Mike’s voice carries it along. I adored Mike and Liam, together and apart. A Rainbow Award winner, and a 4-times reread to date.
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Runners-up in no particular order:

Sword Dance by A.J. Demas – A historical alternate-universe fantasy set in a world with echoes of the Ancient Romans/Greeks and Celts. Two men on opposite sides in battle save each other’s lives, and then find themselves isolated together, long enough for attraction and a meeting of like minds to become something more. Adares has a very appealing mix of self-confidence, curiosity, and intelligence. Rus is also intelligent, more instinctive, from a society less formal and organized, but with its own kinds of power. For a brief moment they find happiness together that neither of them could have imagined. But they can’t hide from the war forever, and what they have together doesn’t translate to who they are when the world intrudes on their sanctuary. Great characters and world-building.
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The Sea Ain’t Mine Alone by C.L. Beaumont – A returned Vietnam veteran tries to hide both the scars on his body and the scars on his soul from his time in the jungle, but not half as deep as he hides his attraction to men, even from himself. His wonderful best friend Rob was a stranger who came up to him one dark day and said, “Hey, you surf?” and the sport, the sea, Rob, and Rob’s sweet girlfriend, are the things keeping Jimmy from drowning in his own head. If he has a crush on Rob, he’s not admitting it to himself, and it can’t go anywhere. Then one day Jimmy sees champion surfer Danny, in town for a competition, and everything he knows about himself has to change. An atmospheric, slow-burn, sports romance with a lot of period feel.
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Heated Rivalry by Rachel Reid – This is a hot, hockey-player, enemies-to-lovers story, skipping forward through the years from a first fumbling encounter in Juniors, driven past anger and irritation by lust, through very occasional meetings for “just sex.” Both men plan to break it off, next time, next year, soon… Both try to find other lovers. Both gradually realize that it’s not just the sex they can’t give up, but a touch, a look, a brief connection. I’m not generally a fan of books with such a high sex-content ratio in the first half of the book but in this case, not only was the sex well written and not overly drawn-out, but it was necessary to the story. Sex brings these men together over and over, and their relationship is slowly built in a hundred tiny moments woven into the sex, before one of them heads out the door.
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Hither, Page by Cat Sebastian – This story, a small-village cozy mystery set in the years after WWII, is quieter than Sebastian’s Regency romances, bleaker, yet there’s an undercurrent of emotion in it that hit me just right. James Sommers was a doctor in the British military in WWII, and after leaving the service, he’s still haunted by all he saw and did. Leo Page was recruited into a black-ops type of service in his teens, before the war, and all he has ever known is intrigue, spycraft, assassination, and war. Leo is sent to James’s small town by his covert ops boss to make the murder-mystery go away, whatever that takes, and he finds in James an honesty and decency he’d almost forgotten existed. But the era is not one kind to gay men, and murder is afoot.
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The Music of What Happens by Bill Konigsberg – I really enjoyed the banter between the two teen guys in this one, as they try to get a food truck off the ground as a source of income. I also loved the quiet moments when there was depth and pain lurking. Coming out is not a big issue here, which is great, as it leaves room for the other real issues these boys are coping with. Addressing things as tricky as consent, sexual assault, addiction, parental neglect and more is a challenge, and Konisberg hit a sweet spot for me, keeping it feeling real and nuanced, emotionally valid but not mined for angst. There are no cardboard villains here, and no one is perfect (although Max is a sweetheart.) The story is pretty well balanced, and while young love is real, it isn’t a cure-all.
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Earth Fathers are Weird by Lyn Gala – This was a fun, well-crafted SciFi romance with a biologically-plausible take on MPreg and tentacles, and inter-species romance. Lyn Gala really has a talent for imaginative plausibility, showcased in this lighter story. I liked human Max. He was optimistic, intelligent, adaptable, determined, and willing to roll with a series of big punches. The alien “Rick” was an interesting character, a creature of honor, honest and sympathetic without being too human in his outlook. I loved that the MPreg was biologically possible, and also not slavery or rape or seduction or feminizing, but a badly-translated job offer.
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Behind These Doors by Jude Lucens – The story of a gay journalist from humble origins, and a bisexual, polyamorous nobleman, working to fit a growing loving relationship into the minimal overlap of their lives in turn-of-the-century London. I really appreciated the historical grounding of this story, from the clothes and social mores, to the details of the women’s suffrage movement and the strains of class differences. I also loved having strong female characters, an ace-spectrum character, and a polyamory where a new lover isn’t a reason to devalue the old. The progression of the relationships felt realistic, and the obstacles valid. The ending wraps up a bit easily, with a couple of big obstacles swept away, but it was warm and sweet and didn’t impose limits on love.
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Carved in Bone by Michael Nava – Michael Nava is one of my favorite gay mystery writers. I read the original series when it came out back in the 1980s and fell in love with Henry Rios, with his honor, his intelligence, his fierce need to find the truth and see justice done, his drinking, his flaws, his strained family past, and all the parts that make up this amazing, gay, Hispanic lawyer and crusader. So a new Henry Rios story after all this time is a gift. This book slots in after the first story in the series (The Little Death which has now been rewritten as Lay Your Sleeping Head ) – here we see Henry after he has hit bottom with his drinking and his losses, managing to finally get help.
There’s both a good mystery, and the 1980s impact of AIDS in each of these books, particularly this one. We see gay men hit by disaster just as they were beginning to believe that their families and churches and authorities were wrong about gay being unnatural and evil. For some, the painful question becomes how do you purge an internalized shame and self-disgust from your soul, when God now seems to be striking down gay man after gay man with the most horrific suffering? When the more gay sex a guy has had, the higher his risk? When everything about this plague seems designed to confirm that gay men are miserable sinners unfit for love, undeserving of life? This book is lest-we-forget reading with a great character and plot to go with it, and I’d like to see young people read this for the immersive effect it has on understanding gay history. This could stand alone just fine, although I recommend the whole series, which has a romantic HEA in the last book.
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Spice & Vanilla by Kathrine Wyvern – a slow-building story that begins with 4 points of view. Di is a young woman who survived a severe accident, but lost her mobility, her fiance, her profession, and her beloved horse. In the isolation of her small cottage, her cat is her companion as she tries to rebuild. Hugh is a gay Dom who hides his heart away and tries to give his subs precisely what they need, without ever being vulnerable himself. Raphael is elegant, musical, both kind and exacting, bisexual and a sub. And Lucie… well Lucie is feminine for Lucifer and she’s a kinky masochistic sub to Hugh, who works to indulge her, but she’s far far more to Raphael, and eventually to herself as well. A genderqueer main character, in a story I at first didn’t think would work, but eventually couldn’t put down. A Rainbow Awards winner.
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I read many other good books this year, more than I had time to even review on Goodreads, but these ones stand out to me. If you have a best book you read this year (a 2019 release or not) please do mention it in the comments. I’m always looking to add good stuff to my (long) TBRs.

Best wishes for happy reading to you all in 2020.

– Kaje

Rainbow Advent Calendar – my story – Shooting Star

December 13, 2019

It’s is my turn for this fun holiday writing event. My story is up today, both posted here and available for download. (Link below.)

It’s always a bit of a surprise for me, to see where my holiday stories go. I’m not particularly good at the holiday sweet and fluffy, (although my older story Where the Heart Is comes close.) This time, I ended up with a bit of an adventure:

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Shooting Star

Dr. Dillon Shaw hiked to a remote lake on Christmas Eve to close one chapter of his life, with no idea what came next. He didn’t expect ‘next’ to be getting tackled into the mud, or gunshots, or a burly cop in trouble.  . About 13,000 words. (Note a content warning for violence, and transient mention of infant death.)

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And I hope you’ll also check out all the other goodies from this event. From the 1st – 24th of December over 40 authors of GLBT+ fiction will be opening a door to a selection of festive stories to while away the winter days and get you in the holiday spirit.

The schedule is a surprise – you have to keep checking to see who has a story gift for you each day. Some are posted on the blogs, many are available for download.

The master list of stories and links is here: http://alexjane.info/rainbow-advent-calendar-2019/

Or check the Facebook grouphttps://www.facebook.com/groups/RainbowAdventCalendar/about/

So far we’ve had lovely stories of all kinds, from hockey players to gingerbread to a ghost cat, from poignant to sweet, several from favorite authors of mine.

I hope you enjoy my story, and all the rest, and have a lovely holiday season.

Find my posted story below.

***Or download Shooting Star in mobi, epub, or pdf from Prolific Works (and they won’t pass me your email unless you verify your interest) – https://claims.prolificworks.com/free/a8m47fEr

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Shooting Star

Kaje Harper

©Kaje Harper 2019

 

Sunshine glinted off the lake at my feet, and coaxed rainbows from the chunky diamond ring in my palm. I tilted my hand, watching colored flecks of light move across my fingers. Who fucking cares? Nothing else about the last six months had been pretty, or bright.

It’s Christmas Eve. I’d thought I was past noticing, but a pang of regret tightened my chest.

This wasn’t how Christmas was supposed to go. I should be at Malcolm’s house, baking a batch of cookies on my rare day off. Or maybe sitting together on the couch in front of the tree, making out, and planning our wedding. I should be but that was long over.

We’d been having breakfast the morning the lawsuit hit the papers. I could still hear the sharp intake of Malcolm’s breath before he turned his tablet toward me, could still taste the acid coffee rising in my throat as I read not just malpractice but unprofessional conduct and assault.

Is any of this true, Dillon?” The crease between Malcolm’s eyebrows, the way he leaned back, created deliberate space between us.

Of course not! I told you what happened. Come on, you know me.” The pleading in my voice made me ashamed now, but back then I’d still been hoping.

Sure I do, babe, but… you can see how bad it looks.” The chill in Malcolm’s tone was the beginning of the end.

My whole life had been taken away piece by piece, after that.

Now, I was out of fucks to give. A month of scraggly beard itched my face. My stomach clenched emptily. The hike up to the lake had shortened my breath in a way it wouldn’t have six months ago, and my knees shook. I wanted to drop to the cool December earth and stay there.

You’re pathetic. Some force inside me that hadn’t quite died pushed at me. That’s not why you came here.

Before I could stop myself, I flung the ring as far as I could. It hit the water without any splash and was gone. A faint regret hit me. You could’ve given it away. Some shelter cat could’ve eaten for a month on that ring. A weird smile stretched my lips. Malcolm had hated cats.

Malcolm had hated anything messy or unpredictable. That should’ve been a warning, but no, I’d gone and made allowances and now— well, it was done.

My hand felt lighter without the ring, and so did my heart. I wasn’t short of money. I could donate its worth. In Malcolm’s name, even. I laughed, and heard a catch of breath in it. Idiot. You know he isn’t still thinking about you after all these months. He’d probably had a new boyfriend before the ink was dry on his Dear-John letter.

And now I was really free. My second laugh was better. Then a heavy force hit me from behind, slamming me to the ground. My breath was driven painfully from my chest, leaving me gasping. Before I could react, I was pinned in the mud by a man’s weight, a man’s grip on my arms. His breath came hot against my ear. “Shh! Don’t move!”

I tried to buck him off. Black spots danced in front of my eyes as my lungs labored. I managed a feeble sound and his hand clamped over my mouth. I tasted mud and blood.

Silence!” He felt bigger than me, heavy, trapping my legs with his.

I sucked precious air through my nose. Self-defense moves. What? I scrabbled for his fingers, trying to bend one backward. Snapped my head back without making any contact.

Shhh. If they find us, we’re dead.”

That was unexpected enough to make me hesitated. Then, past the pounding of the pulse in my ears, I heard other sounds— the cracking of twigs and swish of leaves under careless feet. A man’s distant voice called out, “Hey, you’re just making it harder on yourself. We just wanna talk to you.”

The man on my back twitched and stayed quiet. His hand clamped tighter over my lips. Something about that distant voice— some echo of cruel humor— made me stop fighting.

The footsteps came closer, the sound of two men, at least, walking through the dry leaves and brush without caution, muttering to each other. Maybe they were cops and the guy on my back was a murderer, or a rapist. Maybe they were all just playing a cutthroat game of paintball. Out here hours from any civilization, where cell phones don’t always work. I froze underneath my captor, listening.

One of the distant men said, “This is your fucking fault. How did he get loose?”

Another replied, “You’re the one that tied him up. Anyway…” His words trailed off, too faint to hear.

For minutes that felt like hours, I lay pressed to the dirt while the sounds of the men came and went. At one point someone passed so close behind us the hairs on the back of my neck rose. He was muttering a litany of filthy insults. I tried to breathe silently through my nose, under the frozen weight of my captor, trying to be one with the mud. If I hadn’t decided my peacock-blue jacket was too festive and bright for my mood for today— I shuddered in my worn denim, actually glad I had the heavy bulk of this stranger pinning me down, hiding me.

Eventually someone called, “We’re not going to find the motherfucker like this. We need a dog or a heat scope or something. Head back and regroup.” The crunch of their steps retreated.

When silence had finally returned, I shifted my weight, trying to look at the man who had me pinned and helpless. Before I could get free, he murmured, “It’s a trick. Wait.”

Truth? Lie? He was lying very still, not groping me, not trying for my pockets. Playing it safe probably meant believing him, just a bit longer.

I tried to relax under his weight. The woods were quiet. A chickadee called from overhead. The lap of small waves on a rock a few yards away helped slow my racing heartbeat, steadying me down like a metronome. Breathe… breathe… breathe.

Then racing footsteps charged our way, branches crunching. A shot rang out at a distance. The man on my back flinched, but held still. His pursuers were as loud as an army, crashing through the brush. Run! Run! Every instinct said to get out of there before they found us. I fought against his hands, his weight, bit his palm. He grunted but didn’t let me go.

Then the noises slowed and stopped. Not far from us, someone cursed, “Shit! Nothing! Sack of fucking shit!”

Another voice said, “Fuck! Deaker’s gonna kill us.”

Someone said sharply, “Shut up! We’ll get him. There’s only one road and he’s on foot. If it does take a fucking dog, we can get a fucking dog. Stuart, you…”

I strained to hear what Stuart was supposed to do, but receding footsteps garbled the words. Slowly, the sounds faded into the distance.

Still we lay there, minute after minute, the hunted man on top of me. I began floating, getting lost in the moment in some odd way. I couldn’t move, couldn’t talk, could do nothing but breathe the damp, loamy smell of the earth under my cheek, and feel the rise and fall of the man’s chest against my back, gradually slowing. It was freakishly peaceful. I was almost sorry when he finally whispered in my ear, “I’m going to take my hand off your mouth, but keep quiet, okay?”

I nodded the fraction of an inch available to me and he eased his palm away from my lips. I swallowed and asked, “What’s going on?” My voice was too loud in my own ears and I winced.

Who are you?” His tone was soft but suggested he was used to being answered. “What are you doing out here?”

Getting mugged. Smashed in the dirt.”

Sorry.” He eased off my back. “But stay low. I’d bet they still have someone watching.”

I rolled over to my back, finally getting a look at the guy. He was older than me, dark-haired, scruffy, his intense gray eyes lined with smile-wrinkles. Or scowling wrinkles, I told my inner optimist. He certainly wasn’t smiling now. He frowned down at me as if I was a problem to be solved. Or maybe a parasite to be eliminated. “Who are they?” I demanded.

Scum of the earth. Human traffickers.”

And you’re the good guy?” I shoved sarcasm into that, to hide how desperately I wanted to be told yes.

I’m a cop. I’m good at my job. The rest is a matter of opinion.”

What’s your name?”

He shook his head. “I told you what I’m doing here. Your turn. Who are you? How did you get here? Do you have a car nearby?”

I’m a doctor.” If we were doing titles instead of names, mine was still worth something. Even after the malpractice suit. “I’m on leave. I came here to get away from it all.” Because this was where Malcolm proposed to me… “And got jumped by a so-called cop.”

Drop the attitude.” He raised his head, listening. “We’ll be lucky to get out of here alive.”

What—?” I bit off the question as he raised his hand.

A minute ticked by, then he relaxed. “False alarm. But they’re going to be combing through here as soon as they get reinforcements. We need to get away. Do you have any signal on your phone?”

It’s in my car. Down at the trailhead.”

And you’re hiking alone?” He looked me up and down. “No phone, no pack? What kind of idiot move is that?”

I felt the heat rise in my face. The kind where I didn’t really care what happened to me next? Except, I realized, I did— as if the threat of men and guns had woken me from a dark dream I’d fallen into. Or maybe it was the weight of a man on your back, huh? Got you all hot and bothered? I shoved the echo of Malcolm’s voice away. “So, where’s your phone then?”

He held up his hands. Blood caked his wrists and his thumbs looked swollen and raw. “I lost it.”

What happened?”

I trusted the wrong guy. Never mind—”

Let me see your hands.” When he pulled back I said, “I really am a doctor.”

No time right now. Follow me. Stay low, and as silent as you can.” He turned and began easing his way around the shore of the little lake, crouching below the level of the bushes and undergrowth that ringed it.

For a second, I fantasized about ignoring his command and going my own way. Standing up and heading for my car. Who the hell does he think he is? Except he really was the guy who had some idea what was going on, and someone out there had a gun. So I followed behind him, trying to duck-walk, wincing as new bruises made themselves felt.

When he found a gap in the brush, he headed away from the lake, and I still followed him. The going got rougher and it was harder to stay quiet. It was uphill too, a slow trudge over roots and boulders, done in a crouch that made my breath come painfully and my thighs burn with effort, sometimes crawling on all fours, my face whipped by the dead stems of last summer’s weeds. After ten minutes, I had to let my ass hit the dirt and rest.

Ahead of me, the cop noticed I was missing. He turned and came back, sitting beside me. “You okay?”

Just out of breath.”

He touched my forehead with the back of one battered hand, the gentlest touch I’d had from him. “You’re real flushed. You might have a fever.”

Nope. Just way out of shape.” Going to the gym had been one more thing Malcolm and I had done together, one more essential I’d let slide since he left me. Fuck, I’ve been pathetic. No more. If— when— we got out of here, I was going to find a new gym and fix that.

How long have you been alone out here? You’re too skinny. You look like shit.”

I huffed a laugh, between gasps for air. “Thanks so much.”

If you’re one of their victims—”

I’m no victim!” Jesus, how bad did I look? I hadn’t cared about anything for so long, but suddenly I wished I’d shaved in the last month, cut my hair, bothered to eat. Right, so you can look good when they shoot you? “I’m on vacation.”

Solo hiking at Christmas without a phone?”

That makes me an idiot, not a victim.”

Okay, okay. But if we don’t keep our shit together that may change. Ready for another stretch?”

Can we stand up now?”

He visibly thought about it, easing to his feet to look around, weighing options. “Yeah. Move quietly though, and no talking.”

He led the way again and I concentrated on following where he walked, avoiding the deeper drifts of leaves and crunchy dead sticks. The non-trail got steeper, undergrowth thinning out. Suddenly he whirled and grabbed me, shoving me against a tree trunk and covering my body with his. A rustling behind us drove my heart into my throat.

Two deer bounded past us, ten feet away, heading down the hillside with a flick of their white tails.

The cop sagged against me, his forehead pressed to my neck. I realized for the first time that he was shorter than me, despite his bulk. He’d felt so huge, powerful, safe. I resisted the impulse to cling to him, as he pulled free and straightened. “Sorry,” he murmured. “False alarm.”

No problem.” I hadn’t missed the fact that he’d tried to shield me. The last of my doubts about which side to take melted away. “False is good.”

His teeth actually glinted in a wry smile. “In this case, yeah. Come on.”

He moved confidently despite whatever trauma had bloodied his hands, every step strong and controlled, scanning the quiet forest. I fell in behind him again, unable to resist one quick look at his ass, barely hinted at under his jacket and baggy jeans, before dragging my attention to where I placed my feet. It all felt unreal, like a scene in a play. My brain had been scrambled by that moment of panic, and the rush of relief pressed up against his solid body.

I shivered, absurdly missing that touch, though the air was warm enough. The shadows were getting longer. We’re just past the shortest day of the year. It was lovely for a hike now— if people weren’t shooting at us— but it would get cold when the sun went down. I was desperately glad not to be alone.

Dillon Shaw,” I said.

He glanced over his shoulder, one thick eyebrow raised.

My name. Dr. Dillon Shaw. You can call me Dillon.”

Ah.” He paused. “Call me Joe.”

Is that your name?”

His lips quirked. “Come on, Dillon. Not much further.”

As we reached the top of the ridge, he gestured me lower again. The underbrush was thinner up there, where a few short pines and scraggly bushes poked up from cracks in the rock. Eventually we made our way forward in a belly crawl, with sudden pauses every time he heard something alarming. They were all false alarms, but the shortness of my breath wasn’t just from the long uphill climb.

He reached the overhang first, and waved me to come up beside him. From here, you could see for miles on a clear day. We could also see down to the small meadow at the head of the trail where my car was parked— except it wasn’t. Where my reliable, little, bright-red Prius should’ve been, there was nothing but packed dirt and flattened grass. No other vehicles either. Empty.

For a moment, it didn’t quite sink in. I scanned back along the old logging road. Is there another parking spot? Did I not…? Then it hit me. “They stole my car!”

Joe had me pinned instantly, his palm on my mouth. “Shh. Hush, noise carries from up here.”

I fought the impulse to struggle, and nodded. He eased off me, staying pressed close. I whispered, soft as I could, “My car was parked down there. A red compact. It’s gone.”

I figured.” His words ghosted against my cheek. “And your phone was in it.” That wasn’t a question. He took a slow breath. “They might’ve just dumped it somewhere, but we can’t count on it being close enough to find.”

Dumped it?” My voice squeaked enough to make him flinch. “Sorry. But I had a bunch of my stuff…” I trailed off. We were worried about our lives right now, not Mom’s silver teapot or any of the so-called essentials I’d decided to keep close to me as I left behind the remains of my life. “Now what?”

Good question.” He stared intently down at the road, scanning for something. I looked too, but when all I saw were trees and more trees, I gave it up to look at him instead.

Joe was younger than I’d thought at first glance, maybe forty, with a fleck or two of silver in the beard-stubble on his cheeks. His lips were probably full when they weren’t pressed tight. I saw a muscle twitch in the side of his square jaw like he was grinding his teeth. His eyebrows were bushy in a way that said plucking probably never occurred to him, and his hair looked like it had been buzzed with a razor, then allowed to grow a couple of inches.

This close, I could smell the sweat on him, but that wasn’t a bad thing. Rough voice, heavy muscles, male scent— he was the kind of man I’d secretly admired, before Malcolm. He looked tough, and smart. Capable, like there’d be far worse people to hold my safety in their hands.

Like those men with the guns. “Are they still out there?” I whispered.

One guy down at the trailhead.”

I don’t see him.”

He’s up a tree with a rifle. The nearest pine, where that tall clump of four are?”

It took a few minutes for me to spot a movement, a flash of a maroon not natural to trees. “Oh. Jesus, I’d never have seen him.”

He’s waiting to see if someone comes back to find that car.”

And he’d just shoot them? Me?”

Maybe not. If you seemed confused and alone, and didn’t look anything like me. But… maybe yeah. One more murder means nothing to them, and they can’t afford any chance I might get a message out to my people.”

Who are?”

Other cops.” He began easing away from the edge and I did the same, crabbing back awkwardly.

When we got under the cover of the bushes, I asked, “How far could he shoot us?”

I can’t see what kind of weapon he has. Probably not this far, but I’m not taking chances.” He led the way downslope to where a hollow at the base of a big old pine was lined with needles and fallen leaves. With a little grunt— the first pain sound I’d heard from him— he sat down with his back to the trunk.

I folded my legs to sit in front of him. He grabbed my sleeve and tugged me around to his side. “Keep the sight lines clear.”

Okay.”

There were a dozen things we should’ve been talking about, but for a while we just sat there and breathed the pine-scented air. A cool breeze ruffled our hair, and I shivered again. He put an arm around me, matter-of-fact, like he’d have done it for anyone. “Gonna get cold later on. You should’ve dressed warmer.”

I focused on feeling annoyed, because I didn’t want to like his embrace so much. “I wasn’t planning to still be here. One little hike, and then I’d have driven back out.” His criticism stung more because I was an experienced camper, and in my right mind I’d never have left sight of my car in a remote area without a pack, and a phone, water, first-aid kit… what kind of doctor are you? “Let me look at your hands. Do you have other injuries?”

He hesitated, then let go of me and presented me with both battered arms. “Nothing bad. Got hit on the head, but I never passed out. No concussion symptoms. Some bruises.”

I inspected the spot on his head, marked with a purpling hematoma but no obvious fracture. He passed a basic concussion screening with an air of humoring me. I checked his wrists, ringed with abraded bleeding skin. Both thumbs looked even more raw and swollen than I remembered. “What happened?”

I was tied up. Blood’s a crappy lubricant, but I didn’t have a lot of choice.”

You did that to yourself? Did you dislocate a thumb?” I didn’t think you could dislocate the CMC joint without a fracture, which would be a scary amount of self-control.

No, just took some skin off. I was lucky they decided to be fancy with the rope, tied my feet to my hands, which left some play.” He pulled his hands back. “Nothing you can do about it anyway.”

The lake’s pretty clean. We could wash them out. My T-shirt would rip for bandages.”

He shrugged one shoulder. “Later. We need to think. How soon are you likely to be missed? Would they come looking for you, or call the forestry service?”

Um.” I bit my lip. “It’ll be a while.”

It’s Christmas Eve. You don’t have someone expecting you tomorrow?”

I bit my lip against an unwelcome surge of loss. Hopefully it was too dim in the shadow of the tree for him to see it. “No. I quit my job. And my boyfriend.” Or he quit me. I realized I’d just outed myself and froze, holding my breath. What if he hates gay people? We’re alone out here.

There was no change in his tone, though, when he asked, “No other family? Friends? Did you tell anyone where you were going?”

I’m kind of… between lives.” I quickly added, “How about you? Even cops must get a few hours off for Christmas?”

I was undercover. There is no time off from that duty.”

Oh.” The bleak way he said that tugged at my heart. “Don’t you have, like, check-ins or other cops watching out for you, though?”

Yeah. I’ve missed my check-in already. The problem is we’re a hundred miles from where they’ll be looking for me.”

I pulled my knees up, hugging them. The air seemed to be getting colder. “So what do we do?”

We have options. We could try to walk out to where we’ll find other civilians. That’s probably safest.”

How far?” The drive in to the trailhead was pretty isolated for the last hour, but the road twisted and turned. I had no concept of distance.

You’d know better than me. I have a rough idea where we are because one of them mentioned it when they thought I was going to be easy to dispose of. I’ve never been here before.”

I blinked at that. I’d followed him blindly, assuming he knew where he was going. Although he’d gotten us up to the lookout, so if he didn’t know, he figured it out well enough. “At least twenty miles to a paved road with traffic,” I guessed, based on driving at thirty for an hour but not in a straight line.

A solid day’s walking, maybe more since we’d have to keep to the rough ground away from the road, and daylight’s limited.” He frowned. “Still, that’s probably the safest bet. Although if they do bring in heat scopes or tracking dogs, it could get dicey.”

Would they do that? It sounds James Bondish.”

You have no idea what’s at stake. If I can get to my stashed evidence before they figure out I have it, if I can testify, it means life without parole for a bunch of these monsters. And the collapse of a multi-million-dollar network.”

Ouch.”

And they have those resources, dogs and scopes, because escapes are always a concern. They traffic in people so they’re good at controlling people.”

Shit.” I hugged my knees harder. “Dogs usually fall for my charms. Maybe not those dogs, huh?” He gave what might have been a laugh, and I was pleased to have lightened his mood even a fraction. “What’re the other options?”

We could try to signal for help. Light some fires, for example. There’s fire-watch towers in most big parks. Three problems with that.”

Like getting burned to death?”

Yeah. We’d have to be super careful. Also it would show the bad guys where we’ve been. And starting fires with no matches isn’t impossible, but it’s harder than the Boy Scouts make it look.”

I shook my head. I wasn’t quite pyrophobic, but I was not a fan of flames larger than a candle. “What’s door number three?”

Right now, there’s one guy left behind to keep watch. He has a weapon, maybe more than one. He’ll have a phone. He thinks he safe up there, but if we can get to him, we can call for help and protect ourselves.”

Attack him?” That sounded suicidal. “Won’t he kill us?”

He’d try.” Joe turned to me and the late afternoon sun gilded his hair, and caught amber glints in his gray eyes. “That’s my job anyway, not yours. All you have to do is hide till it’s over.”

I couldn’t help thinking how different he was from Malcolm. Not just in his rugged good looks, but in the way he was putting my safety ahead of his. Malcolm hadn’t even put my heart ahead of his friends’ gossip on Twitter. “I want to help. Tell me what to do.”

This could go wrong.” He touched me with the back of his hand again, brushing my shoulder. “I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

Well, I don’t want to see you get killed either.” I tried to look as determined as a five-foot-ten skinny city doctor could. “If the best thing I can do is hide, say so. But if I can help, let me.”

He looked me up and down. “You’re tougher than you seem, huh?”

I haven’t been, recently.” I’d let the disasters of the past six months beat me down, but this was one hell of a wake-up call. “But it’s about time I stepped up.”

Okay.” He smiled, and I was right about how nice his mouth looked. “You and me, kid.”

I sat up straight. “I’m not a kid.”

It was probably my imagination that his eyes dropped down over my body before he said, “No, you’re not. All right, Dillon, time for a plan.”

We headed downhill, circling the small lake on the far side to come up behind tree-guy. Joe didn’t know how long we had before the tree-guy’s buddies would be back with reinforcements. When we reached a low spot where only the tips of the pines were visible, he began taking off his clothes.

I don’t mean to complain,” I said, as he dropped his jacket, revealing a nice solid chest in a thin T-shirt, then began fumbling with his zipper. Really not complaining. The worn white shirt clung to wide pecs with a hint of body fur. His arms were corded with muscle and ropey with veins. I yanked my gaze away. “But what are you doing?”

We need a decoy.” He cursed at the zipper. “Can you give me a hand here? My fucking fingers are stiff.”

I hesitated. “You want me to take your jeans off?”

Yeah.” Despite everything, he grinned at me. “Man enough to do it?”

Hell, yes.” It wasn’t an invitation I got from a lot of straight guys, but that didn’t mean I didn’t have other practice. I knelt in front of him, unzipping, peeling the worn denim down some seriously built, dark-furred thighs. He wore boxer-briefs underneath, and even disinterested and soft, he was clearly packing. I averted my eyes from the shape of him, thick and long under the soft cotton. “You’ll have to kick your shoes off.”

He braced one battered hand and then the other on my shoulders, as we untangled sneakers and pants. After the second shoe I looked up at him. Something electric passed between us, just for an instant. Then he brushed my head with the back of his fingers and stepped away.

Are you gay? Bi? This was not the time to ask him and make things weird. “Now what?”

Now we try to stuff weeds and brush into this to make a decoy. Gonna be a challenge without string or duct tape or something.”

Got it.” I hunted around for dry branches for a framework, spotting one nice forked one. “This might work as a base. Put the two sides in the jeans, and the fat part up the jacket.”

He took it from me. “Have I mentioned how glad I am that you were the dumb traveler camping up here at Christmas?”

You’d have been better off with a survivalist. Or hell, a Navy SEAL. Or someone smart enough to actually have a phone.” I stuffed a twiggy bit of bush in the chest part of the jacket and yanked up a handful of weeds to add to it.

He caught my wrist in a fumbling grasp. “Don’t put yourself down. You’re doing great.”

I shrugged. “I know my strengths. Give me a surgical pack or a—” I cut off the word dick. Malcolm clearly hadn’t valued that skill much. “—stethoscope, and I’m your man.”

We’re working on getting you back to those.” He stuffed clumps of dried weeds into one sleeve.

After boasting my skills as a doctor, I really should’ve stopped him getting all kinds of crap in his open wounds. But we didn’t have time to waste. I moved to the other sleeve.

In the end, we had to sacrifice my T-shirt and his to help bind the thing together and stuff the hood with something resembling a face. We ended up with a light but awkward scarecrow that might look human, if our shooter was half-blind and the light was failing. “You really think this will work?”

I hope so. The key is to let him just get a glimpse, not a good look. Come on, time to move out.”

Together, we carried the scarecrow closer to the shooter’s pine tree, then dropped to the ground to crawl forward with it, moving slowly and carefully. I winced at what Joe’s bare knees and hands must look like as we worked our way through the brush. He tried to duck-walk when he could, but had stopped hiding his little huff of breath whenever he had to hit the ground with a hand for balance.

Eventually we stopped at a stand of trees, a mere hundred yards from the guy who wanted to kill us, and his loaded rifle. My pulse thudded loud enough to hear the rush in my ears. I breathed through my nose, in and out, controlled, just like with my first emergency Cesarean, life and death in my hands. I can do this.

Joe left me with a pat on the shoulder, our plans already set. I wished I could say something, wish him luck, tell him he was the James Bond I’d choose to spend my last moments with, but we couldn’t risk the slightest sound. He crept off, amazingly silent, the pale of his furry legs and bare shoulders vanishing into the winter-gray underbrush. I began counting.

One potato, two potato, three… At three hundred, I slowly pushed the scarecrow upright against the trunk of our chosen tree, an arm and half the chest exposed. It wanted to flop and I had to reach up higher than I liked to brace it, but I got it upright. There was no reaction from the gunman. I took a deep breath, and cracked a branch under my knee. The sharp sound echoed through the forest.

An instant later, the scarecrow jolted out of my hands with a deafening rattle of gunshots. I flinched behind my tree, hunkering down, trying to melt into the earth. There was a lull. Out of the corner of my eye I could see the scarecrow draped forward, fallen over a bush. I didn’t dare peek out further. Does it look like a dead man? Will it fool him? Another rattle of gunfire ripped through the bushes next to me. The scarecrow jittered and dropped lower into the underbrush. Just a hint of the jacket could be seen above the dry brush and weed stalks.

Silence returned. I stayed put, like Joe told me, even though every instinct said to put space between me and the scarecrow. Curled tight as possible, I pressed my spine to the tree trunk and held my breath. I replayed Joe’s voice in my head. “The most dangerous thing you can do is move. All right? It’s gonna be fucking terrifying, but I need you to hold still and trust that I’ll get him. Don’t you dare give him a target.”

I repeated that last bit over and over, as moments ticked by. Don’t you dare give him a target. Then, just when I’d decided that our gun-guy was going to play it safe in his tree, I began hearing sounds from that direction. As scrape, a thud. I clenched my teeth and held still. Yes. Come to Papa. Come to Joe.

Footsteps crunched through the dead leaves, coming my way. Closer and closer. Now, Joe. Now would be a good time.

A blast of gunshots hit the exposed shoulder of the jacket, from close enough to make me bite back a scream. Now, Joe!

The crash-thud of Joe making his move jolted me upright so fast I cracked the back of my head on the tree trunk. A single gunshot echoed. More thuds. A man grunted, a pain-sound. Are you okay, Joe?

I’d promised to stay hidden until he called me out, but I couldn’t stand it. I jumped to my feet, snatched up a sturdy branch off the ground, and whipped around the tree. Twenty feet away, Joe had a big guy on the ground in some kind of wrestling hold. The guy wasn’t done fighting, though. He bucked upward and Joe was thrown off his back. They grappled, struggling, grunting. Joe’s head snapped back with a swing of the gunman’s elbow and the man staggered to his feet. Joe swung a leg into his knees, toppling him off balance. He hit the ground closer to me with a thud, pushing immediately to one knee.

Joe shook his head like he was woozy. The guy reached under his jacket and terror unlocked my feet. I charged, swinging my branch, catching the guy in the neck as he started to turn. He staggered, gasping and grabbing at his throat. Joe scuttled close, hauled back, and punched him in the neck full force. I heard a crunch, and the man gasped, eyes going wide. His back arched and he choked, grabbing for his throat, hitting his knees. Joe shoved him down, focused on the holstered gun revealed as the man’s jacket swung open. As the man bucked and kicked at the ground, Joe got the gun free and rolled clear.

Police. Freeze!”

The gunman didn’t seem to hear him, writhing, clutching his throat, wheezing, eyes bugging out.

I said freeze!”

I think he can’t breathe.” I moved toward the prone man.

Don’t get near him, Dillon! It’s a trick.”

I don’t think so.” The man’s lips were turning cyanotic and his chest heaved with the force of his breaths. Spittle ran from his lips. “I think he’s got a damaged airway.” I eased closer, knelt.

Joe lunged toward us, holding the gun inches from the prone guy’s head. “Hurt him and I’ll kill you.”

You might already have done that. Or maybe I did. The guy’s color was shitty. His hands fell limply away from his throat.

I bent over him, palpating over the larynx where things crunched and moved that shouldn’t. “Not faking, there’s crepitus. He needs an airway. A tracheotomy.” Shit! I haven’t done that since my Emergency rotation.

Joe moved the gun away, and set it carefully at arm’s length. “What do you need?”

Something sharp. Knife, scissor blade. Fast!”

Joe began searching through the man’s pockets. I patted mine, but there was nothing sharp in there. I did have a pen that might serve as a tube if I could get it inserted. I began unscrewing it with trembling fingers, as the man spasmed and then went limp under Joe’s hands. I laid two fingers over his carotid. His pulse was there, but thready and fast. Not much time.

Joe muttered, “What kind of bad guy doesn’t have a knife? Gonna turn him.” He pushed the guy onto his side to check back pockets.

At first the man still struggled weakly, but then his body sagged. I got the pen barrel unscrewed as Joe eased the guy back down. “No fucking knife.”

The man was still except for the arched, heaving effort of each failed breath. His eyes had rolled up, his hands lay limp in the dirt. His lips were getting really blue. Fuck! “I need something that will stab into his trachea, or he’s gonna die.”

Joe glanced around as I knelt helplessly, clutching my stupid plastic barrel. Superman could stab the pen right into his neck. How much force would that take? He was moments from no return. I raised it as high as I could, framed the tracheal rings with two fingers, and tried to bring the pointier end down with force between them. The tip glanced off, leaving no more than an abraded line and a trickle of blood, scraping my finger on the way past.

You try!” I demanded. Joe had a couple of branches in his hand, short things with broken ends. He dropped them, took the pen, and stabbed down right where I had. I heard a crack, and the pen barrel split between his fingers. “Shit!”

Reaching for the sharper-looking of the two branches Joe had dropped, I began stabbing at the guy’s neck, lacerating the skin, splinters cracked off the branch. Joe grabbed my wrist. “He’s not breathing.”

No shit! He can’t breathe!”

Dillon!” Joe didn’t let go of me. “He’s dead.”

He will be if I can’t—”

He’s dead.” Joe shook my arm. “He’s gone.”

I lunged for the man’s neck, feeling for the carotid pulse. Nothing. Other side. Nothing. I fumbled in the dirt for his arm, pressing my fingers over his wrist as if somehow the carotids would lie to me. Nothing. His eyes stared sightlessly upward. I smelled urine as his bladder let go.

Dead. Call it. An echo went through me, an operating room, a tiny infant gasping a few futile breaths. Call it.

I didn’t realize I was vomiting until Joe’s arm came around me to keep me from face-planting. “Hey, Doc,” he murmured. “It’s not your fault.”

I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and pulled away. “It might be. I hit him first.”

A glancing blow, to save my life. It was my punch did it. But Dillon.” He set the back of his hand under my chin to guide my gaze to his. “If I’d had a gun, I would’ve shot him. It was him or us. He chose this when he dumped me in the trunk of that car, when he climbed that tree with a rifle.”

He dumped you in the trunk?” I stared into Joe’s eyes, wondering how he could be so calm after so much trauma and violence.

He was one of them. They caught me, roped me up, brought me out here to dispose of the body. If they hadn’t been lazy, and wanted me to walk to their favorite mineshaft, I’d be dead now. I’m not sorry it’s him instead.”

I’m not sorry either. Oh, Joe.” I couldn’t imagine what that ride had been like for him, trussed up in the dark, with a bad death waiting at the end of it. Impulsively, I threw my arms around him.

A second later I realized he might not want to be embraced by a gay stranger while half-naked. I tried to disengage but he was clutching me just as fiercely, muttering, “I was fucking scared you hadn’t listened to me and he’d got you, shooting in the brush like that. Or a ricochet. Jesus.” His stubble scraped my neck, rough and perfect against my skin. His arms squeezed the breath out of me.

I was tempted to brush a kiss against his temple, but of course it was just relief and proximity. And the first time I’d had a man’s arms around me like this in six months. I counted to ten, then pushed away and he let me go. “Now what?”

He dug back in the dead man’s pockets. “Ahah!” He pulled out a cell phone. “Now if it’s locked I may have to use 911… oh, nice, fingerprint lock.” He grabbed the dead man’s hand without hesitation, rotated the phone, and pressed the guy’s finger to it. “And a signal? Yes, bars! And now we’re home free. Mostly.”

Mostly?”

He was dialing as he spoke. “As long as my people can get to us before his people… Sir! Detective Kingsley. It’s urgent… Yes, they got me, got some of the evidence, but not the most of it… I’m fine. Here’s what I need—”

I sat in the weeds and listened as he spoke to several people, sending one to get stuff he’d left hidden in the wall in some room, others to pick up a long list of individuals, and asked for back-up to our location. He reported our dead man with no more emotion than the rest— “Death due to trauma during a murder attempt on myself and an innocent bystander.” I wasn’t sure why it bothered me to hear myself described that way, but I hunkered down in my increasingly-inadequate jacket and just listened.

Finally he tapped away at the phone, muttering about changing the lock to a code, and looked at me. “I don’t know how much of that you got?”

Some of it.” I glanced away.

My people are coming, but it’s getting too dark to land a chopper. They’ll send someone to sweep the road, try to scare off the bad guys if they’re heading our way. It’ll take about three hours for the first car to reach us.”

All right.”

We should get somewhere out of sight, just in case Deaker’s men beat mine.”

Not ours. “You’re the boss.”

I’m keeping his handgun and the rifle. Phone code is six-six-six.” Joe stuck the phone into my jacket pocket, picked the long gun out of the weeds, and checked it. “We’ll be armed and ready, if they do come.”

He was trying to reassure me, so I nodded and stood up. “Lead on, Joe.”

He grinned. He was dressed in boxer briefs, socks, and shoes, and I noticed goosebumps standing on his muscular arms as he cradled the rifle. His nipples were crinkled tight on his furry chest.

I said, “You look cold.” And hot. Then I felt a flush of shame for noticing, with a dead man lying there at our feet. My emotions were all over the place. I tried to stay practical. “Don’t you want to get your clothes back on first?”

I don’t want to mess up the scene. Anyway, with the number of rounds that dummy took, they’re probably more like Swiss cheese than clothing. I’m fine.”

Can we go back to the lake? I’d like to wash out your hands and wrists.”

He looked down as if he’d forgotten the injuries. “Oh. Sure, probably a good idea. Lead the way.”

In the slanting afternoon light, it was harder to see the beaten track that took us to the water. I got side-tracked once, and had to double back, but Joe didn’t complain. Eventually we reached the little inlet where I’d thrown Malcolm’s ring, a lifetime ago. Funny how priorities change. I led Joe to the left, where a pebbled beach led to the water. I squatted and beckoned him close. “Let me see your wrists.”

He set aside the weapons and put his hands in mine obediently. I focused on gently loosening the dirty crusts in the water, soaking the debris out of those deep raw patches on his thumbs. The lake was icy cold, but that would help with the swelling. I would’ve been recommending cold-packs for the base of both thumbs anyway, especially the left. “You should get this X-rayed when you get back. There might be a chip fracture.”

It’s fine.” He hissed but didn’t pull away as I eased a splinter of wood from the meat of his thumb.

Someone needs to do this for you under a better light, too. I can’t tell what I’m leaving behind.”

I appreciate it.”

His hands were broad, the fingers blunt. His forearms were strong too, with those prominent veins… and worsening goosebumps. “Sorry, you must be freezing. I think that’ll do.” I eased his hands out of the water, opened my jacket, and slipped his palms in against my chest. The chill touch made me yelp, but I pressed his fingers against my skin to warm them. “You’ll want a tetanus booster, for sure. Probably prophylactic antibiotics. And you should have your head checked again. I saw him get you with an elbow. Any dizziness? Nausea? Seeing double.”

Dillon.” He pulled his hands free. “I’ll be fine.”

I hugged my arms around myself instead, and tried to smile. “Sorry. Reflexes.”

He straightened. “Come on. Let’s go up to the overlook where we’ll see whoever’s coming before they see us.” I must have sighed or flinched, because he said, “It won’t be a bad climb when we don’t have to hide.”

Okay.”

He was right, although as the sun sank lower, the shadows laid traps for my feet among the roots and weeds. Twice I fell to one knee. Both times, Joe heard me and turned, but with a gun in each hand, he didn’t reach for me. When we scaled the top of the ridge, the sun was touching the horizon. Joe led the way to the overlook and sat on a patch of mossy ground, laying the guns off to one side.

His broad shoulders were shaking with the force of his shivers, even though he acted unconcerned. I said, “You’re going to get hypothermia. We should’ve stolen that bastard’s coat. I’d give you mine, but it wouldn’t fit at all.”

And you need it.”

I hesitated, then sat behind him and opened my jacket. Leaning forward, I pressed my bare chest against his back and wrapped my arms around him, the jacket falling forward to shield his flanks from the breeze. I stretched one leg out on each side of his, bracketing his thighs. “Is this okay.”

He laughed softly. “It’s great.”

Better to look gay than freeze to death, right?” My tone was brittle.

He twisted his head enough to look at me. “When have I ever said I don’t want to look gay? I’ve slept with lots of women, and not a few men. It’s not about the equipment, it’s about the person.”

You’re bi?”

Or pan or whatever the hip kids are calling it these days.”

They’re not calling it hip, for one thing.”

You’d know better than me. How old are you anyway?”

Thirty-three.”

Really? You don’t look it.”

Good genes.” Some bit of me that still wanted to test him added, “Also moisturizer every morning, yoga, eyebrow care, a stylist.”

That beard was approved by a stylist?”

I huffed a breath. Cindi would’ve yelled at me for an hour for how I looked now. It was a jolting reminder that however well-groomed and young and hot I’d once been, I now was a poster child for neglect. “I let it go a bit.”

Joe leaned back harder against me. I liked feeling his shivers easing, as we shared warmth. “I get the impression things haven’t been good with you?”

No, not really.”

Want to tell me?”

It’s a long story.”

He pulled his knees up tight to conserve warmth, crossing his arms to grip the sides of my jacket against the chill. “We have some time. Hopefully.”

I turned to look down the road, and he did the same, his short hair brushing my cheek. “I don’t see anything,” I said.

Not yet.”

I hugged him tighter. After the last six months, I should’ve wanted to be the one being held, but for some reason, our position gave me the strength to say, “I’m an OB-GYN. And I got sued.” For a moment, I wanted to go into the whole disintegration of my life, the crazy accusations, the poor grieving woman unable to believe things “just happen” and searching for a pound of flesh to somehow ease the pain of her loss. But the details didn’t matter. “The woman didn’t want a settlement, she wanted me in jail. And by the time all the charges had been dismissed, I’d been hauled over the coals in the press. My boyfriend walked away. Our friends decided he was the easier one to stay close to. My clinic director winced every time she saw me.”

But the charges were dismissed?”

Every one. The judge suggested she get counseling. I hope she did. I walked out of the courtroom vindicated, but it felt like there was nothing left of my life. I quit my job.” To my boss’s ill-concealed relief. “I sat around home for a while, trying to decide what to do next.” Dodging reporters, dressed in worn sweats, not shaving or caring how I looked, now I didn’t have to “look respectable” in the courtroom anymore. “I decided to come up here and think things through.”

On Christmas.”

I forgot.”

I call bullshit.” He looked over his shoulder again. With the sun gone, his eyes were dark pools. “There’s lots of dates you can easily lose track of, but Christmas in America isn’t one of them.”

Okay, not forgot, but it didn’t feel relevant. I wasn’t going to celebrate this year anyway. And I had something to do, and wanted to get it over with.”

Up here?”

I brought Malcolm— my boyfriend— hiking here when we were starting to get serious. He proposed here. I figured it was a good place to let go of everything.”

See, that’s what I don’t like. The way you talk about letting go.”

I sighed, and laid my face against the nape of his neck. Inappropriate, sure, but the sweaty smell of his skin made me feel safer. “I guess I was pretty depressed.”

Was?”

There’s nothing like facing death to make a person realize they want to live.”

And do you?”

Just two hours ago I might have brushed the question off. Now I said, “Yes. I do,” against that warm skin.

Good.” There was a world of vehemence in that word. “You should. You’re smart and caring and sexy and you should have all the good things.”

I’m—” I swallowed, blown away. “Thank you. You’re pretty damned amazing yourself.”

He snorted. “I’m just an old workhorse. Ordinary enough to go undercover with the worst dregs of humanity and not get noticed.”

I don’t know how you do that.” I hugged him hard. “You’re brave and strong and kind. And also sexy. How the hell do you hide that?”

He cleared his throat. “You don’t need to flatter me back. I’m forty-two and I know what I look like. And I’ve always been a decent actor. Although one thing to say for this clusterfuck. Odds are good I’ll never be able to work undercover again, when I’m done testifying.”

What will you do then?”

Go back to solving crimes from the outside, I hope, instead of pressing flesh with the scum of the earth.”

So you still want to be a cop, after almost getting killed?”

He glanced back. “What else would I do? Anyway, I’m good at it, and it’s important work. Like doctoring.” His tone dared me to contradict him.

I tried for humor instead. “We could become pole dancers. The Dillon and Joe show. My flexibility and your muscles. We’d pack them in.”

I expected him to laugh, but instead he was silent for a minute. Eventually he said, “You and me?”

I wasn’t serious.”

No, of course not. Just… you wouldn’t mind if I kept in touch, after this is over?”

I’d mind if you didn’t,” I said. “It’s not every day I meet a real hero who’ll let me hug them half-naked.”

He turned in my arms. “No, don’t joke. I… I’m not nearly the kind of guy you should want. I’m older, a lot rougher, broker, uglier—”

I kissed him. His mouth opened on a gasp of surprise and I pulled away immediately. “Sorry. I should’ve asked first.”

No, you read me right.” He looked down. I wished there was enough light to see his face. “A major investigation is ending, I got snatched, shot at, and right now all I was thinking was wondering how your mouth would taste.”

I bent to give him a better sample, but he blocked me with finger on my lips, clean this time, still thick and calloused.

Except my own mouth tastes like something died in there. And this isn’t the moment. But if you’re really willing, if you don’t get out of here and wonder what in the hell you saw in an old cop, I’d like to try that again sometime.”

You’re not old.”

The phone rang where he’d stuck it my jacket pocket. I helped him fish it out and handed it to him.

He didn’t pull away as he glanced at the number, then answered it. “Yes, Lieutenant?” After a pause, he said, “That’s good news. We’re up on the hill to the northwest, overlooking the trailhead… I wouldn’t say no. We’ll make our way down.”

When he was done, he dropped the phone back in my coat. I expected him to get up, but he relaxed against me. “They spotted Deaker’s men on the road, chased them with a chopper and the car turned off, made a run for it. They have roadblocks out for it. Our guys will be a couple more hours, but we don’t have to worry about the motherfuckers getting here first.”

I slumped against his shoulders in relief. “That’s good.”

Merry Christmas to us.”

I chuckled. “Some Christmas.”

I dunno. I’m alive, free, watching a pretty sunset while the stars come out and the hottest man in six states holds me in his arms. Hell of a lot better Christmas than I expected three hours back.”

Put like that, it was true for me too. “Just six states?”

He drawled, “I ain’t done a lot of travelling.”

I suppressed a smile and turned his question back on him. “No one waiting for you at home to celebrate the holidays, now you’re done working?”

Undercover’s hard on relationships. My wife split four years back. Parents are gone. I have a few good buddies, but they’ve got families of their own, and we haven’t talked in almost a year. No, nobody’s expecting me.”

Maybe we can celebrate together, then. Once all the loose ends are tied up,” I added quickly.

We’ll be celebrating on the Fourth of July, if we wait for that.” He slid down further, resting his head on my shoulder. “My ass is falling asleep. How are you doing.”

We could lie down. It might be warmer.”

Might at that. Since we don’t have to keep watch.”

There’s that spot under the pine tree. We could burrow into all the leaves.”

He rubbed his stubble against my neck. “Do I fail the good-guy test if I say ‘And all the ticks?’”

Yuck. Yes!”

He sang, “I want to check you for ticks.”

You’re weird. Should I rethink this?”

It’s an actual song. A country song.”

I don’t listen to country. You’re not making me regret that one bit.”

I could feel the laughter in his chest. He nudged me to one side. “Here. I think this part is warmer.” He pulled me down on a spot where a darker rock must have absorbed the afternoon sun. A steady warmth still radiated from it.

I lay on my side and tugged him in against me. I’d rarely been the big spoon, but I liked this. “Not softer, though. And you’re still shivering.”

Are you going to suggest vigorous activity to warm me up?” He didn’t make any move to suggest he wanted me to follow through, so I just kept my arms around him, one leg between his and the other thrown over his bare thigh.

Tell me about yourself,” I suggested. “Who is Joe when he’s not a cop?”

Sometimes it’s hard to remember.”

How long were you undercover?”

Almost a year.” His voice got a little lighter. “Last Christmas, though, I was out. I got a real tree for my condo, and decorated. I still have my mother’s ornaments. I bought a roasted chicken for dinner, played my favorite carols on the Bluetooth speakers.”

Boy, you went all out. Just for you?”

Yeah. I knew I was going to go into dark places. I wanted something to balance that.”

Smart.” I pressed my leg against Joe’s, thinking of the solitary cop making himself a good Christmas, before diving into the darkness of human evil. There should’ve been someone to share that with him.

He said, “I bet you had one of those blue-and-silver trees, all fashionable and pretty like you.”

We had, although red and gold and silver. Malcolm loved entertaining and enjoyed looking good while doing it. It’d been lovely, in a formal, elegant way. Instead, I said, “My mom used to have the most mismatched trees you ever saw. She bought one ornament a year, whatever caught her fancy, whether it clashed with everything else or not. She had a lot of angel ornaments, and a lot of penguins.”

She… wasn’t someone you could go to this year?”

She didn’t like it when I came out and started dating men. She didn’t cut me off, but we don’t have much to say to each other. Especially at the holidays.”

I’m sorry.”

But I still love penguin ornaments.” I tried to lighten the mood. “Next tree I get, I’m putting all animals on it. Polar bears and cats. Maybe a donkey.”

Sounds like a plan.” He pulled away from me. “I need to turn over. I miss my pillow-top mattress.”

We reversed position and I climbed over to gather him in again. “They just don’t make rock beds like they used to.”

He shivered, twisting his head to look up. “Holy cow, look at those stars.”

I followed his gaze. As the light faded, the stars in the east were coming out in their full blaze of glory. I forgot, every time, just how vast the galaxy revealed itself to be, away from civilization. “Kind of puts us in our place, huh?”

It’s beautiful. Look, was that a shooting star? Did you make a wish?”

I hadn’t seen anything, but I wished quickly anyhow. I wish we get the chance to do this again sometime, without bruises and injuries and rock for a bed, and a dead man down below… Remembering the man we’d killed was a flood of cold water through me. I shuddered and said quickly, “Where are you from? Did you grow up in the city? You don’t see stars like this around city lights.”

City boy all the way. San Francisco.” His easy tone sounded like he knew I needed a story, something to occupy my mind. “I’ll tell you about it, but we’d better head back down while we still have a little light.”

And for the next hour, as we worked our way down the hill, and then paced around the trailhead, trying to keep the chill at bay and our bodies from going numb, he told me about growing up with two older brothers and a fun-loving mom in an old rental house near the beach. He didn’t make me reciprocate. He didn’t demand anything more than an occasional grunt of interest, or simple question.

Then the phone rang in my pocket, and the sound of vehicles grew in the distance. “Time to hit the road,” Joe said, after confirming with the caller this was the cavalry coming in. He turned to me as the first headlights appeared through the trees. “Tell them the truth, don’t let them bully you. And nothing you witnessed is so urgent it can’t wait while you get warm and fed and checked out by a doctor first.”

I’m fine,” I said. “You’re the one who was injured. That goes double for you.”

Don’t worry. I’m golden. Pulling victory from the teeth of disaster on this investigation.”

While dressed only in boxer briefs,” I pointed out.

The lights were sweeping towards us. He laughed through chattering teeth, then crouched to set the two guns on the ground and stood with his hands in the air. “And I’m sure none of the guys will ever let me forget it. Stand still now. Hands high. As long as no one gets carried away, we’re almost home free.”

I wanted to ask where home was now, to get his number, ask if he’d call me sometime, but the cars were pulling up, doors opening. Someone shouted, “Freeze. Nobody moves.” Someone else bellowed in a deep voice, “Kingsley, where are your pants?”

Then what seemed like a tide of men and lights swept toward us, asking, demanding, pulling us apart. I heard Joe saying, “The doc’s a good guy. You treat him right,” but a moment later he was saying, “The body’s over this way,” and firm hands on me were urging me the other way, and he vanished into the dark. I let them guide me to an SUV, pat me down thoroughly, and load me into the back. The heat was on and my fingers and toes tingled. I closed my eyes, ignored the questions thrown at me, and remembered a warm hard expanse of rock and a sky full of stars.

 

***

2 days later

 

The day after Christmas was always a letdown, but this year it truly sucked. I woke in a hotel bed to an overcast gray morning and considered not bothering to get up. I was short of sleep anyway. Christmas Eve had run deep into the early morning hours, after I rattled around the SUV for a rough two-hour ride, was checked over by an ER resident, and then questioned over and over by three different sets of cops in varying versions of bad suits.

Eventually they’d decided that I really had whacked the dead guy in the throat in self-defense, and that I knew nothing useful. They’d stashed me in this hotel room, with a warning that I should keep a low profile until all their suspects had been rounded up. No going out, no using my credit cards, no phone calls. As if there was anyone I wanted to call. Except the one guy whose number I didn’t have.

I’d asked about Officer Joe Kingsley, but got nothing more than blank looks. As sleep-deprived as I was by then, I couldn’t tell if they were real or not. Maybe the people questioning me were some other branch of the law.

I’d hit the clean if low-threadcount sheets at three AM, and surprised myself by sleeping six hours without a dream I could remember.

But then it had been Christmas morning. Alone, bored, dreary, sore— the highlight of my holiday was a half-hour-long hot shower, and a clean T-shirt and sweatpants from the hotel gift-shop, charged to my room. The low-light of the day was a visit by a set of federal agents asking the same questions all over again. At least they had better suits. I spent the bulk of the day watching bad holiday TV, trying to suppress my memory of the gunman’s gasp as I hit him with the better memory of broad shoulders and strong arms, and waiting.

Not that I expected anything. Joe would be up to his ears in his case. Or maybe even in a hospital bed with IV fluids and antibiotics to keep his hands from getting infected. I cheered myself up slightly by picturing him declining pain meds so he could work, dammit. But as Christmas Day wore into evening, and all that changed was the level of inanity in the movies I wasn’t really watching, I had to admit I was disappointed. I hadn’t expected anything, but somewhere down deep I’d hoped.

I finally went to bed and dozed fitfully, waking from dreams of being chased through endless woods, and seeing Joe’s real body dancing in a hail of gunshots. The time on the bedside clocked ticked over a slow eternity, until the daylight grew behind the curtains.

And now it was happy-returns day. The stores would be full of harried salespeople and lines of customers trading gifts in for cash. Even if I hadn’t been ordered to stay put, I wouldn’t have braved those crowds to buy clothes, although this maroon fleece was not my color and shopping was definitely on my agenda.

I ordered a room-service breakfast and picked at the bacon. I knew I should eat. I’d indulged in ordering a cholesterol feast to tempt myself, but whatever my adventure had done for my will to live, it hadn’t given me back my appetite. I covered the dish with the lid. I was actually contemplating doing sit-ups out of boredom when there was a knock at the door.

It was presumably room service, wanting their tray back, but I still asked, “Who’s there?” with the night latch firmly in place.

Joe. Kingsley?”

I laughed as I struggled to flip the latch and open the door. “Like you might be some other Joe— um, wow.” Standing in the hallway was a bushy Christmas tree in a pot, bright with multicolored lights, supported by a set of nice legs, this time warmly clothed in bad suit pants.

Is this okay?” Joe’s voice from behind the tree sounded a little worried, and I realized I’d been blocking the doorway, staring at the apparition of Christmases past. Or maybe future. That bit of hope was sitting up and cheering.

Of course. Come in. Do you want a hand?” I swung the door wide and guided a prickly pine branch past the door frame.

Joe eased his way in, set the tree down in front of the armchair, and straightened. I saw his hands were neatly bandaged, and he looked tired despite the tentative smile.

I said, “They treated your wrists. That’s good, although you shouldn’t be lugging stuff around. Are you on any oral meds? Did they x-ray? Come, sit down.” The chair was blocked, so I sat on the bed and patted the mattress beside me.

Joe’s smile warmed and he came to stand looking down at me. I met his eyes, and my babble died away. Slowly, he sat beside me and reached a bandaged hand toward my cheek. I leaned into his touch. He closed the gap between us and brushed a kiss across my lips. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

You too.” My voice went shaky. “I wasn’t sure— I mean, I figured they’d kept you busy and no one would tell me anything about you.”

I was deep undercover. They wouldn’t even mention my name.”

But you’re out now? They won’t make you go back?”

I’m out and still breathing. Thanks to you.” His voice was rumblier and slower than before, whether from lack of stress or pure fatigue. I didn’t hate the way it warmed me. He stroked my bare cheek, freshly shaved with a hotel disposable. “I meant to find you sooner, but there was so much evidence to catalog and sign chain of custody on. And then the Feds wanted to record my testimony in detail. I wasn’t about to argue, since the bastards’ payoff for killing me goes way down once that’s all on tape.”

I clutched at his jacket sleeve. “They won’t still try to kill you, will they?”

Probably not.”

Probably’s not a good word.”

He chuckled. “Relax. We got most of this bunch behind bars, and the evidence is rock solid. There’s no percentage in coming after me now, and anyone we haven’t caught yet is going to be trying to save their own skins.”

So we’re safe?” I cleared my throat. “I can go out and get clothes without a local sports logo on them?” I plucked at my sweatshirt.

Tomorrow.” His expression turned worried. “Did they treat you all right. The FBI and my people? They didn’t give you trouble about the guy I killed?”

We killed.” I felt a flash of guilt, and forced it back. “No, it was fine. They all said self-defense.”

I’m sorry.” He took one of my hands in his bandaged ones. “You’re a healer, not a killer. I’m sorry you got caught up in all that.”

I’m not. I looked into his eyes and knew I’d do it again, in a heartbeat, to save Joe. I’d probably have nightmares about that day for a long time. The crunch of the man’s larynx under Joe’s fist came back to me and I shivered. But I couldn’t regret meeting Joe, or doing what we’d had to, to keep this man alive. I turned his hand gently in mine, inspecting the bandages. Someone had done a decent job, despite this crazy good-guy hefting Christmas trees with them.

His eyes drooped half-shut, then he jerked back awake. “Sorry. I haven’t slept yet.”

Since when?”

Since the car trunk.”

Seriously? I thought you were preventing slavery.”

His smile was fast becoming one of my favorite things. “Since I was getting my own ass out of jeopardy, I didn’t complain too hard.”

But you’re done now? You can relax?”

There’s months of work still to come. But I told them I needed a break, if they wanted me making any sense at all.”

No kidding. Did they at least feed you?”

I ate something last night.” He looked around vaguely.

I bounced to my feet and brought over the tray. “Here. I had some of the bacon, and it might be a little cold.”

He lifted the lid, grabbed the fork clumsily, and stuffed cooling scrambled eggs into his mouth. “Food o’ the effing gods,” he mumbled around a big mouthful.

I sat cross-legged on the bed, snagged a strip of bacon, and watched him make short work of the plate. When he was scraping the last egg with the last bit of toast I asked, “Should I order more?”

No, this was great. Even if you did eat half the bacon.”

Sorry, not sorry.”

He set the tray aside, leaned toward me, then stopped. “I had brushed my teeth before I came here.”

I rubbed my hand over his jaw, the stubble rough under my palm. “I don’t care. I want another kiss.”

His mouth tasted like strawberry jam. It was my new favorite flavor. He kissed me softly at first, almost politely, until I tilted my head, nipped at his lip, and opened for him, inviting more. His next kiss wasn’t close to polite, leaving us both gasping. I nibbled my way from the corner of his mouth along his jaw, savoring the rasp of his almost-beard against my lips. I’d not minded the sweaty scent of him one bit on that mountain, but as I pressed my nose against the soft skin under his ear, I savored the clean smell of his skin.

He slid a hand up my back under my sweatshirt, bandages rasping up my spine, then paused. “I didn’t mean to assume—”

Assume away.”

He pulled me closer and took my mouth again, hot and hungry, but broke free for a jaw-cracking yawn. “Oh, Jesus. Sorry!”

He looked so embarrassed I had to chuckle. “I’m also just fine with waiting until your eyes aren’t crossing and your hands have actual skin on them.”

I hate to waste time.” He unsuccessfully fought back another yawn. “I had plans.”

I pulled back the covers. “Plans won’t disappear if you close your eyes a few minutes.” Or hours. I figured if I got the guy horizontal he’d be down for the count. His eyes had a full set of matching luggage under them, and his skin color was too close to pasty-gray for my liking. “Come on. I played big spoon for you on the mountain. Now it’s your turn.”

As I thought, that gave him a good excuse. “I can do that.” He kicked off his shoes, stretched out on his side, and held out a hand.

I toed off my socks, because I hate socks in bed, and lay down in front of him. His body was a warm wall against my back. I pulled the duvet up to our chests. He draped an arm over me, his muscles relaxed and heavy.

This isn’ what I wan’ed to start out like,” he grumbled against my hair.

You can show me something better after you sleep.”

Righ’. I’ll do tha’” The rise and fall of his chest at my back slowed and deepened. His breaths developed a little snoring rasp.

I lay in his warm embrace, staring out into the quiet room. The three-foot tree he’d brought had battery-powered lights, and the bright colors glinted off the mirror by the door and the silver room-service covers. I squinted my eyes, the way I used to as a kid, making the lights on the tree fuzz into halos of yellow, red, and green.

As my vision refocused, I spotted a black-and-white ornament hanging from one bough. I’ll be damned. It’s a penguin. Most of the baubles were cheap glass that probably came on the tree, but I spotted a fuzzy fox, and a pinecone hedgehog. And yes, a fucking donkey.

I laughed hard enough to wake the man at my back. Joe jolted against me, then mumbled “Dillon? That you?”

Yes. Go back to sleep.”

What’s so funny?”

Life? Hope? I rolled over in his arms to look at him. “Not funny. Just good. Close your eyes.”

“‘Kay.” His eyelids drooped shut, his breathing turned to gentle snores.

I lay there looking at his face. Finally looking, with time and light enough to begin to learn every detail. I noted the curve of his lower lip, the way his hair receded slightly at his temples, a tiny scar beside his left eye, a bruise on his left temple, the dark circles under his eyes. Those I was going to help him get rid of. His stubble was two days longer, a little more gray-flecked than I remembered. His jawline was just as square and solid as ever. Solid, real, reliable, not flashy or fashionable, but infinitely worthwhile.

My Christmas miracle. My shooting star wish.

In his sleep, he closed his fingers on my shirt and pulled me closer. I went willingly, tucking my head under his chin. I could snooze for a while, and when we woke there’d be time enough to talk about this thing we were building.

But one thing I knew. I’d driven to that remote park to throw away my ring, my old life, maybe all of my life. And I’d come back out with someone worth living for.

Thanks for the tree,” I murmured against his throat, “I like the little ass. And your big ass too.”

He wasn’t as deep asleep as I thought, because he chuckled, and mumbled, “Nex’ year I’ll find a polar bear.”

Next year. It was far too soon to promise that, but as I let my eyes close, I could picture us hanging a woolly polar bear ornament on a new and bigger tree. That was a future worth working for. I kissed his neck, over where his pulse beat steady and true. “Merry Christmas, Joe,”

 

#######

 

 

 

Find more stories by Kaje Harper on her website – http://www.kajeharper.wordpress.com/books/

 

Big thanks to Liam Livings for the beta read, and Helena Stone for the formatting on this story.

Rainbow Awards winners

December 8, 2019

The Rainbow Awards are complete for 2018-2019, thanks to a huge undertaking by Elisa Rolle, who organized 450 books, 106 judges, all over the world. The event raised over $12,000 as donations to LGBTQ charities.

So many good books were honored with these awards. I was thrilled that my Kira Harp YA story collection, Rainbow Briefs volume 2, won the collection/anthology award this year.

***

Here’s a full list of the winners. (Categories with large numbers of entries were awarded proportionally more than 3 top choices. Award numbers with multiple titles are ties.)

***

Gay – Young Adult
1. Laura Lascarso – Hiroku
Laura Lascarso – When Everything Is Blue
2. S.M. James – In Case You Missed It
Eli Easton – Boy Shattered
3. Mia Kerick – Torn
https://reviews-and-ramblings.dreamwidth.org/5317328.html

Gay – Humor
1. Michael Scott Garvin – Aunt Sookie & Me: The Sordid Tale of a Scandalous Southern Belle
2. Joe Cosentino – Drama Dance (Nicky and Noah mystery #8)
Joe Cosentino – Drama Detective (Nicky and Noah mystery #5)
3. David Nora – Slasher Crasher
Damian Serbu – Santa Is a Vampire
https://reviews-and-ramblings.dreamwidth.org/5317451.html

Lesbian – Romantic Comedy
1. Lynn Ames – Great Bones
2. Lisa Moreau – Lovebirds
3. A.J. Adaire – Match Me
https://reviews-and-ramblings.dreamwidth.org/5317692.html

LGBTA – Poetry
1. Jan Steckel – Like Flesh Covers Bone
2. Renée Vivien (translator Samantha Pious) – A Crown of Violets
Sandra de Helen – Desire Returns for a Visit
3. Lisa Dordal – Mosaic of the Dark
Julie Marie Wade – Same-Sexy Marriage: A Novella in Poems
https://reviews-and-ramblings.dreamwidth.org/5318019.html

Bisexual – Historical & Paranormal Romance
1. Jude Lucens – Behind These Doors (Radical Proposals #1)
2. E.J. Russell – Demon on the Down-Low (Supernatural Selection #3)
3. Lexi Ander – Caledonia Destiny
https://reviews-and-ramblings.dreamwidth.org/5318261.html

Lesbian – Historical
1. Elena Graf – Lies of Omission
Elena Graf – Acts of Contrition
2. Jane Alden – Across A Crowded Room
3. Kim Finney – Under The Microscope
https://reviews-and-ramblings.dreamwidth.org/5318402.html

Bisexual – Fantasy
1. Jeanne G’Fellers – Cleaning House
2. Ariana Nash – Silk & Steel
3. Megan Derr – Dragon Magic
https://reviews-and-ramblings.dreamwidth.org/5318874.html

Lesbian – Fantasy & Paranormal Romance
1. Beryll and Osiris Brackhaus – Orc Haven
2. Helen Jayne – Aegle: sapphic Soulmates
3. Veronica Watts – Her of the Wood
https://reviews-and-ramblings.dreamwidth.org/5318942.html

Gay – Fantasy
1. Xia Xia Lake – Shinigami
2. Angel Martinez – The Mage on the Hill
3. Dan Ackerman – For A Glance
Lisa Henry – Anhaga
https://reviews-and-ramblings.dreamwidth.org/5319259.html

Lesbian – Fantasy
1. Caren J. Werlinger – A Bittersweet Garden
2. Kellie Doherty – Sunkissed Feather and Severed Ties
3. Benny Lawrence – Beggar’s Flip
https://reviews-and-ramblings.dreamwidth.org/5319553.html

Lesbian – Contemporary General Fiction & Erotica
1. Caren J. Werlinger – When the Stars Sang
2. Susan Stocker – Kiss Your Elbow (An Embellished Memoire of Growing Up in the 50’s and 60’s)
3. Rae D. Magdon – Fur and Fangs (Vol 1-10)
https://reviews-and-ramblings.dreamwidth.org/5319902.html

Bisexual – Contemporary General Fiction, Humor, Mystery / Thriller & Sci-Fi / Futuristic
1. Debbie McGowan – The Great Village Bun Fight
2. Lori A. Witt – Incel
Vicki Clifford – Deception is the Old Black: A Viv Fraser Mystery
3. Mia Kerick – The Weekend Bucket List
https://reviews-and-ramblings.dreamwidth.org/5319953.html

LGBTA – Anthology / Collection
1. Kira Harp – Rainbow Briefs volume 2
2. Angel Martinez – Brandywine Investigations: Family Matters
3. Dusk Peterson – Danger (Dark Light #3)
https://reviews-and-ramblings.dreamwidth.org/5320410.html

Lesbian – Historical Romance
1. Edale Lane – Heart of Sherwood
2. T.T. Thomas – House of Bliss
Jane Alden – Jobyna’s Blues
3. K’Anne Meinel – Pioneering
https://reviews-and-ramblings.dreamwidth.org/5320646.html

Asexual – Contemporary, Fantasy and Paranormal Romance & Romantic Comedy
1. R.A. Steffan – The Complete Lion Mistress Collection
2. Jae – Perfect Rhythm
Ava Kelly – Havesskadi
3. Sam Burns – Strike Up the Band
https://reviews-and-ramblings.dreamwidth.org/5320704.html

LGBTA – Contemporary General Fiction, Fantasy & Sci-Fi / Futuristic
1. Anna Butler – Day of Wrath (Taking Shield #5)
2. Dorian Graves – Bones and Bourbon
3. E.J. Runyon – Good People
https://reviews-and-ramblings.dreamwidth.org/5321048.html

Bisexual – Fantasy Romance
1. Meredith Katz – How Saeter Robbed the Underworld
2. Freddy MacKay – Waiting on the Rain
3. Casey Wolfe – A Mage’s Power
https://reviews-and-ramblings.dreamwidth.org/5321236.html

LGBTA – Biography / Memoir
1. Ruth Simkin – Dear Sophie
2. Todd Allen Smith – Murder, Romance and Two Shootings
Judith Branzburg – The Liberation of Ivy Bottini
3. Carla Grant – Uncommon Girls
https://reviews-and-ramblings.dreamwidth.org/5321660.html

Gay – Mystery / Thriller
1. J.L. Merrow – Lock Nut
2. Clancy Nacht – For Immediate Release
3. C.S. Poe – The Mystery of the Moving Image (Snow & Winter #3)
https://reviews-and-ramblings.dreamwidth.org/5321955.html

Lesbian – Alternative Universe/Reality & Sci-Fi / Futuristic
1. Angel Martinez – Safety Protocols for Human Holidays
2. Matt Doyle – The Fox, The Dog, and The King (The Cassie Tam Files #2)
Rae D. Magdon – Lucky 7
3. Matt Doyle – LV48 (The Cassie Tam Files #3)
K. Aten – Waking the Dreamer
https://reviews-and-ramblings.dreamwidth.org/5322165.html

Lesbian – Mystery / Thriller
1. Cari Hunter – Alias
2. Jody Klaire – Noble Heart
3. Claire Highton-Stevenson – The Doll Maker
https://reviews-and-ramblings.dreamwidth.org/5322287.html

Gay – Historical Romance
1. Alex Jane – The Arrangement
Anna Butler – The Jackal’s House (Lancaster’s Luck #2)
2. Eli Easton – Robby Riverton: Mail Order Bride
3. Rebecca Cohen – Captain Merric
https://reviews-and-ramblings.dreamwidth.org/5322626.html

Gay – Historical
1. Tanya Chris – Predestination Unknown
2. Daniel M. Jaffe – Yeled Tov
3. Stephan Knox – Anáil Dhragain (Dragon’s Breath)
https://reviews-and-ramblings.dreamwidth.org/5322794.html

Gay – Contemporary General Fiction
1. Dan Ackerman – The Things That Come
Dan Ackerman – That Doesn’t Belong Here
2. J. Scott Coatsworth – The River City Chronicles
3. A.M. Leibowitz – Keeping the Faith
https://reviews-and-ramblings.dreamwidth.org/5323118.html

Transgender – Contemporary, Erotic, Historical & Paranormal Romance
1. Katherine Wyvern – A Muse to Live For
Katherine Wyvern – Spice & Vanilla
2. L.A. Witt – Adrift
Brooklyn Ray – Darkling
3. Tia Fielding – Four
https://reviews-and-ramblings.dreamwidth.org/5323343.html

Gay – Romantic Suspence
1. Tara Lain – The Case of the Sexy Shakespearean
2. Amy Lane – A Few Good Fish
3. Eden Winters – Suspicion (Diversion #7)
https://reviews-and-ramblings.dreamwidth.org/5323685.html

Lesbian – Young Adult
1. Iza Moreau – Swamp Girl
2. Iza Moreau – Ghost in the Piano
3. Jessica Yeh – Bend for Me
Jacqueline Rohrbach – The Soulstealers
https://reviews-and-ramblings.dreamwidth.org/5323837.html

Gay – Erotic Romance
1. L.A. Witt – Sink or Swim
2. Clancy Nacht & Thursday Euclid – The Congressman’s Whore: A Marriage of Convenience
Lane Hayes – Leaning Into the Look
Lane Hayes – Leaning Into Forever
3. L.M. Somerton – Trusting Him
https://reviews-and-ramblings.dreamwidth.org/5324141.html

LGBTA – Young Adult
1. Amy Klobuchar; Edited by In This Together Media – Nevertheless, We Persisted
Chris Tebbetts – Me Myself & Him
2. R. Zamora Linmark – The Importance of Being Wilde at Heart
Chad Sell – The Cardboard Kingdom
Stefani Deoul – Zero Sum Game
Emily Skrutskie – Hullmetal Girls
3. M. Rose Flores – The End
Mia Kerick – The Princess of Baker Street
https://reviews-and-ramblings.dreamwidth.org/5324471.html

Gay – Alternative Universe/Reality & Sci-Fi / Futuristic
1. M.D. Neu – Conviction (A New World #2)
M.D. Neu – Contact (A New World #1)
2. J. Scott Coatsworth – The Stark Divide
3. Arshad Ahsanuddin – Ascension

4. C.C. Bridges – Angels Rising
5. Pelaam – Strawberry Fields
https://reviews-and-ramblings.dreamwidth.org/5324778.html

Gay – Fantasy Romance
1. Jamie Sullivan – Heart of the Dragon
2. J. Scott Coatsworth – Ithani
J. Scott Coatsworth – Lander
3. Meredith Katz – Smoke Signals

4. Jacqueline Rohrbach – The Dragon’s Rebel
https://reviews-and-ramblings.dreamwidth.org/5324811.html

Gay – Paranormal Romance
1. Jackie North – Honey From the Lion
2. E.J. Russell – Single White Incubus (Supernatural Selection #1)
3. Tara Lain – Hidden Powers

4. Sara Dobie Bauer – Escaping Exile
5. Jackie North – Wild as the West Texas Wind
https://reviews-and-ramblings.dreamwidth.org/5325227.html

Bisexual – Contemporary and Erotic Romance & Romantic Suspence
1. E. Davies – Tremble
E. Davies – Miracle
2. L.A. Witt – The Torches We Carry
L.A. Witt – Rank & File
3. Johnny Miles – Café y Chocolate

4. Kyell Gold – Ty Game
5. L.A. Witt – It Was Always You
Freddy MacKay – Watermelon Kisses
6. K. Evan Coles and Brigham Vaughn – Behind the Stick (The Speakeasy #3)
7. L.A. Witt – Blood & Bitcoin
https://reviews-and-ramblings.dreamwidth.org/5325409.html

Lesbian – Contemporary and Erotic Romance & Romantic Suspence
1. Jeannie Levig – A Heart to Call Home
2. Geonn Cannon – Can You Hear Me
3. C.J. Murphy – Frame by frame
Lynn Ames – Chain Reactions

4. Jeannie Levig – A Wish Upon a Star
5. Heather Blackmore – It’s Not a Date
6. Clare Ashton – The Goodmans
7. Jae – Just for Show
8. Suzie Carr – The Curvy Side of Life
9. Jae – Paper Love
https://reviews-and-ramblings.dreamwidth.org/5325790.html

Gay – Contemporary Romance & Romantic Comedy
1. Taylor Fitzpatrick – Thrown Off the Ice
2. Morningstar Ashley – Risking It All
3. Amy Lane – Crocus

4. Tara Lain – Home Improvement — A Love Story
5. L.A. Witt – Rabi and Matthew
6. Tara Lain – High Balls
7. Tara Lain – Love You So Special
8. Kelly Wyre – Fight
9. L.A. Witt – The Husband Gambit
10. E.J. Russell – Mystic Man
11. Jodi Payne & B.A. Tortuga – Wrecked
Kim Fielding – A Full Plate
Kim Fielding – The Little Library
L.A. Witt – Wash Out
12. Eli Easton – Family Camp
A.M. Leibowitz – Drumbeat
13. C.S. Poe – Color of You
E. Davies – Hard Hart
L.A. Witt – Bouncing Back
Marguerite Labbe – A Little Side of Geek (Geek Life #1)
Marguerite Labbe – A Whole Latte Sass (Geek Life #2)
https://reviews-and-ramblings.dreamwidth.org/5325933.html

Asexual Debut Book
1. Ava Kelly – Havesskadi
2. Evelyn Benvie – Something To Celebrate
3. Kail Muse – Homeplanet
https://reviews-and-ramblings.dreamwidth.org/5326169.html

LGBTA Debut Book
1. Dorian Graves – Bones and Bourbon
2. R. Zamora Linmark – The Importance of Being Wilde at Heart
3. Rory Power – Wilded Girls
https://reviews-and-ramblings.dreamwidth.org/5326475.html

Bisexual Debut Book
1. Jude Lucens – Behind These Doors (Radical Proposals #1)
2. M. Rose Flores – The End
3. Ariana Nash – Silk & Steel
https://reviews-and-ramblings.dreamwidth.org/5326796.html

Gay Debut Book
1. Xia Xia Lake – Shinigami
2. Stephan Knox – Anáil Dhragain (Dragon’s Breath)
3. MD Neu – The Calling
Maz Maddox – Heartache & Hoofbeats
https://reviews-and-ramblings.dreamwidth.org/5327037.html

Lesbian Debut Book
1. C.J. Murphy – Frame by frame
2. Susan Stocker – Kiss Your Elbow (An Embellished Memoire of Growing Up in the 50’s and 60’s)
3. Chris Zett – Irregular Heartbeat

4. Helen Jayne – Hestia: sapphic soulmates
5. Gail Newman – Sunlight in the Shadows
Cheryl Espinosa-Jones – An Ocean Between Them
https://reviews-and-ramblings.dreamwidth.org/5327144.html

Asexual Book
1. R.A. Steffan – The Complete Lion Mistress Collection
2. Jae – Perfect Rhythm
Ava Kelly – Havesskadi
3. Sam Burns – Strike Up the Band
https://reviews-and-ramblings.dreamwidth.org/5327415.html

LGBTA Book
1. Anna Butler – Day of Wrath (Taking Shield #5)
2. Chris Tebbetts – Me Myself & Him
Amy Klobuchar; Edited by In This Together Media – Nevertheless, We Persisted
3. Stefani Deoul – Zero Sum Game
R. Zamora Linmark – The Importance of Being Wilde at Heart
Chad Sell – The Cardboard Kingdom
Emily Skrutskie – Hullmetal Girls
https://reviews-and-ramblings.dreamwidth.org/5327798.html

Transgender Book
1. Katherine Wyvern – A Muse to Live For
2. Dorian Graves – Bones and Bourbon
3. Mia Kerick – The Princess of Baker Street

4. Mia Kerick – All Boy
5. Carla Grant – Uncommon Girls
https://reviews-and-ramblings.dreamwidth.org/5328006.html

Bisexual Book
1. Jan Steckel – Like Flesh Covers Bone
2. E. Davies – Tremble
3. Jude Lucens – Behind These Doors (Radical Proposals #1)

4. M. Rose Flores – The End
E. Davies – Miracle
5. E.J. Russell – Demon on the Down-Low (Supernatural Selection #3)
6. Lexi Ander – Caledonia Destiny
Meredith Katz – How Saeter Robbed the Underworld
7. Debbie McGowan – The Great Village Bun Fight
L.A. Witt – The Torches We Carry
S.M. James – Not Gonna Lie
8. Freddy MacKay – Waiting on the Rain
Johnny Miles – Café y Chocolate
L.A. Witt – Rank & File
9. Casey Wolfe – A Mage’s Power
10. Kyell Gold – Ty Game
https://reviews-and-ramblings.dreamwidth.org/5328373.html

Lesbian Book
1. Cari Hunter – Alias
2. Jeannie Levig – A Heart to Call Home
3. Caren J. Werlinger – When the Stars Sang

4. Geonn Cannon – Can You Hear Me
5. C.J. Murphy – Frame by frame
Lynn Ames – Chain Reactions
6. Jeannie Levig – A Wish Upon a Star
7. Heather Blackmore – It’s Not a Date
8. Clare Ashton – The Goodmans
9. Ruth Simkin – Dear Sophie
Jae – Just for Show
10. Suzie Carr – The Curvy Side of Life
11. Jae – Paper Love
12. Judith Branzburg – The Liberation of Ivy Bottini
13. G. Benson – Who’d Have Thought
14. S.L. Kassidy – Learning to Walk Again
15. Wendy Hudson – Meant to be Me
Iza Moreau – Swamp Girl
16. C.J. Murphy – Gold Star Chance
17. Chris Paynter – Just a Touch Away
18. Caren J. Werlinger – A Bittersweet Garden
19. Susan Stocker – Kiss Your Elbow (An Embellished Memoire of Growing Up in the 50’s and 60’s)
Jae – Not the Marrying Kind
20. Sandra de Helen – Desire Returns for a Visit
Sallyanne Monti – Light at the End of the Tunnel, A Memoir
Chris Zett – Irregular Heartbeat
Renée Vivien (translator Samantha Pious) – A Crown of Violets
21. Kellie Doherty – Sunkissed Feather and Severed Ties
22. Helen Jayne – Hestia: sapphic soulmates
23. Rae D. Magdon – Fur and Fangs (Vol 1-10)
https://reviews-and-ramblings.dreamwidth.org/5328544.html

Gay Book
1. Jackie North – Honey From the Lion
2. Tanya Chris – Predestination Unknown
3. Taylor Fitzpatrick – Thrown Off the Ice
Jamie Sullivan – Heart of the Dragon
Alex Jane – The Arrangement
E.J. Russell – Single White Incubus (Supernatural Selection #1)
Anna Butler – The Jackal’s House (Lancaster’s Luck #2)
M.D. Neu – Conviction (A New World #2)

4. Tara Lain – Hidden Powers
5. J. Scott Coatsworth – Lander
Morningstar Ashley – Risking It All
Dan Ackerman – The Things That Come
J. Scott Coatsworth – The Stark Divide
Todd Allen Smith – Murder, Romance and Two Shootings
6. Xia Xia Lake – Shinigami
Laura Lascarso – Hiroku
Daniel M. Jaffe – Yeled Tov
7. Arshad Ahsanuddin – Ascension
8. Sara Dobie Bauer – Escaping Exile
Tara Lain – The Case of the Sexy Shakespearean
Stephan Knox – Anáil Dhragain (Dragon’s Breath)
J. Scott Coatsworth – Ithani
9. Eli Easton – Robby Riverton: Mail Order Bride
Eli Easton – Boy Shattered
Glenn Quigley – The Lion Lies Waiting
S.M. James – In Case You Missed It
Amy Lane – Crocus
10. J.L. Merrow – Lock Nut
11. Tara Lain – Home Improvement — A Love Story
12. M.D. Neu – Contact (A New World #1)
Jackie North – Wild as the West Texas Wind
L.A. Witt – Rabi and Matthew
13. Dan Ackerman – That Doesn’t Belong Here
C.C. Bridges – Angels Rising
14. Angel Martinez – The Mage on the Hill
Tara Lain – High Balls
Meredith Katz – Smoke Signals
15. Laura Lascarso – When Everything Is Blue
Kayla Jameth – Save a Horse, Dive a Cowboy
16. J.P. Kenwood – Blood Before Wine (Dominus #3)
Meredith Katz – Empty Vessels
17. Elin Gregory – Midnight Flit
18. Tara Lain – Love You So Special
Pelaam – Strawberry Fields
Amy Lane – A Few Good Fish
Jacqueline Rohrbach – The Dragon’s Rebel
19. Rebecca Cohen – Captain Merric
20. Alex Whitehall – Magic Runs Deep
Kelly Wyre – Fight
L.A. Witt – Sink or Swim
21. L.A. Witt – The Husband Gambit
Eden Winters – Suspicion (Diversion #7)
Barry Brennessel – Ánh Sáng
Sam Burns – Blackbird in the Reeds
22. E.J. Russell – Mystic Man
S.J. Himes – Knight’s Fire
Meghan Maslow – Be Fairy Game
https://reviews-and-ramblings.dreamwidth.org/5328702.html

Rainbow Advent Calendar free stories

December 7, 2019

I wanted to let you folks know about a holiday writing event I’m participating in : From the 1st – 24th of December authors of GLBT+ fiction will be opening a door to a selection of festive stories to while away the winter days and get you in the holiday spirit. Find stories from your favorite writers and discover some new ones along the way.

The schedule is a surprise – I’m on it, but you have to keep checking to see who has a story gift for you each day. Some are posted on the blogs, many are available for download.

The master list of stories and links is here: http://alexjane.info/rainbow-advent-calendar-2019/

Or check the Facebook group – https://www.facebook.com/groups/RainbowAdventCalendar/about/

So far we have had lovely stories from Clare London, Sue Brown, Ki Brightly, Liam Livings, Julie Bozza, Shane K Morton, HJ Perry, Kim Katil, Anna Martin, and HL Day. (A couple of my auto-buy authors already on that list, and some new to me.)

I’m enjoying the free gifts of writing each day, and look forward to sharing my story… sometime in the next three weeks 🙂 I hope you’ll join us.

Changes Coming Down released

November 30, 2019

Changes Coming Down – Changes Book 1 is now available on Smashwords and Amazon, with other retailers to follow.

I had great fun revisiting Will, my quiet cowboy, Casey, the tough county sheriff, and Scott, a talented hockey player with his eyes fixed on the NHL. The book began as a challenge for a gift anthology, to write a story with those three main characters. It became a favorite excursion into mystery and the dynamics of love between three very different people. I’ve wanted to write the sequel for a long time, and this refurbishing and expanding of the original was the chance to also take their story further. The sequel – Changes Going On will release in the new year.

For three gay men in love, opening the closet door could be a risky move.

Buy Links for Changes Coming Down
Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/993344
Amazon US: https://www.amazon.com/Changes-Coming-Down-Kaje-Harper-ebook/dp/B08246FMYF/
Amazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/Changes-Coming-Down-Kaje-Harper-ebook/dp/B08246FMYF/
.

Chapter 1 Excerpt:

Scott Edison shoved his phone in his jeans pocket and ran his hand over his hair. Not that he could do much with the short cut he wore during the hockey season, but it was habit. Shit. Fuck. Motherfucking hell with a side order of son-of-a-bitch.

He’d gotten into town an hour ago, looking forward to reconnecting with his guys. Hot, intense Casey and sweet, mellow Will. After a month with nothing but long-distance calls and his imagination, he was finally back in Kansas, with three days carved out of his schedule to remind them all how good they were together. He wondered every day how he got so lucky.

But this apparently wasn’t his lucky day. Instead of losing himself in Casey’s strong hands, and then both of them heading out to see Will after evening chores, he was going to spend his rare free time breaking Will’s heart.

And way to go, making this all about yourself.

Snorting in self-disgust, he pushed off the bed and stood. He was half-naked, his shirt open to frame his chest, a calculated display of some of the toned muscle he knew Casey liked. Now he buttoned it with unsteady fingers.

The Slaters were dead. He’d been lucky enough at twenty-three to not lose anyone he loved yet. It was so unfair that Will, who’d lost his real family early in some painful not-to-be-discussed way, now had to face the deaths of the new family he’d adopted as his own.

Merde. Câlis. Tabarnac. The colorful swearwords of his French-speaking teammates didn’t help any either. He dug clean socks out of a drawer, found his sneakers under the bed, and headed out.

It was cold for the beginning of November, and before he’d even started the car, he was regretting grabbing his lightest leather jacket. Habit, because he knew Will liked the way he looked in it, but that would hardly matter tonight. He cranked the heater and practiced phrases as he drove.

“I have something to tell you…”
“Casey called me and wanted me to… asked if I would…”
“We should go inside and…”

Goddamn it.

The drive out to the ranch took about twenty minutes. Long enough for him to decide that he wasn’t ever going to find the right words. Also long enough to decide that the first thing out of his mouth needed to be “Casey’s okay.” Because he’d bet that Will also had nightmares where someone showed up unexpectedly, looking stunned, and said, “I have bad news about Casey…” Just like he’d clutched for a moment when Casey had said someone was dead and then stopped. For an instant he’d pictured life without Will, and it’d been like a punch to the heart.

The news he was delivering was awful, but at least it wasn’t that news.

The road past the gates of the Tri-Cross ranch was rough. With the ease of long practice, he pulled left around the washout by the big oak and slowed near the hill, watching for the potholes that got filled every spring and hollowed out again in the freeze and thaw of winter. The bounce of the suspension was familiar. How many times had he done this drive in the last couple years? Lots, but never enough.

There were still lights on in the barn and the bunkhouse. The Slaters’ big house was dark and quiet.

It would stay that way now.

Scott pulled into the parking area and turned the engine off. For a minute he sat there. He could hear a couple of the hands in the barn, joking back and forth as they tossed down hay bales from the loft. The dogs lay in the long grass near the barn door, snoozing in the spill of yellow light. They’d barely glanced his way before returning to their nap, familiar with the sound of his Camaro. Off in the quiet night, he could hear the fluttering hum of the wind generator, the soft whicker of horses, the creak of some hinge in need of oiling. All the sounds of Will’s home.

He gave it one more minute. And one more. The last moments in time when all would be well on the Tri-Cross. Then the barn door swung wider. Someone glanced out and yelled back into the barn, “Hey, Will, Scott’s here.” Now time had to move forward. He unfolded his tall body from behind the wheel of the sports car and got out.

Will appeared in the barn doorway. He paused for an instant, silhouetted against the light. Despite everything, Scott felt a rush of want for that lean, wiry, perfect piece of cowboy. It’d been far too long. But he suppressed the thought as Will hurried toward him, his expression anxious.

“Casey’s fine,” he said, before Will could even ask.

“Then what are you doing here so early?”

“Casey asked me to come. To tell you…” He swallowed, but there was really no good way. “Graham and Annmarie were killed a little while ago in a car crash.”

Will froze, standing so still Scott wasn’t sure he was even breathing. Then he slowly swallowed, licked his lips, and said, “That’s not possible.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“No, you don’t understand. They’ll be back in a couple of hours. They’re out to dinner. It’s their anniversary. They should be back soon.”

“Will.” Scott’s chest ached in sympathy.

“We’re just finishing chores. Annmarie will want to see Thunder’s hoof before I turn him out for the night. They’ll be here soon.” Will turned, peering down the driveway as if he could make the old couple’s truck appear by the force of his stare.

“I’m so sorry,” Scott repeated. He really wanted to reach out and touch Will, but not here, where at any moment one of the men might appear. “Casey will come as soon as he can.”

Will shook his head. “No.”

“What can I do? Tell me what to do.”

Will pulled out his phone, fumbling, dialing with shaking fingers. “Casey? Scott just pulled up at the ranch spouting this crazy piece of nonsense…” He froze, listening. “No. Oh God, no.” Then after a pause, “How? Was it… fast?”

Scott stood there feeling useless, as Will pressed the phone to his ear. All Scott could make out was the bass rumble of Casey’s voice. Then Will held the phone out to him. “He wants to talk to you.” He walked off, away from the barn, and leaned on the paddock fence staring into the darkness.

Scott kept his eyes on Will’s back as he answered, “Yeah, Case?”

“How’s Will? How are you?”

“I’m good, he’s… shaken.”

“No shit. Listen, you did good. You’re there and you told him, straight out.”

“He didn’t believe me. He called you.” Scott hadn’t realized how much that had hurt until he said it. He worked his ass off to be an equal partner to the two older men, and now when something important happened, Will had immediately turned to Casey for confirmation. Like Scott didn’t know what he was talking about.

“I’m a cop, and I’m the one who was on the scene. He needed to hear it again. If I’d phoned him, likely he wouldn’t have wanted to believe me at first either. Now hang up and take care of him.”

“When will you get here?”

“A couple of hours yet. You guys hang tough.”

“Right.”

Scott tapped off the phone and walked toward Will, making enough noise that Will would hear him coming. Will didn’t move as Scott came up beside him. Scott offered back the phone. “Casey says two hours yet.”

Will didn’t look at him. “Okay.”

When Will didn’t reach for the phone, Scott slipped it into Will’s jacket pocket, taking the chance to give Will’s arm a squeeze. “We’ll both wait.”

There was a long silence. Scott shivered as the late fall breeze found its way down his collar, chilling his back. A cloud crossed the moon, darkening the barnyard to shadows. Behind them, there was a yelp of laughter, and something thumped lightly.

“How do I tell them?” Will’s voice came disembodied in the sudden darkness. “Graham and Annmarie were special to everyone. And this is their home too, all those hands. How do I tell them they’re gone, that it’s all gone?”

Read the rest of Scott, Casey’s and Will’s story in Changes Coming Down ebook, and soon available in paperback as well.