I am so
very pleased that the first post of the new year is going to be for a book (and
a writing team) who are very special to me.
Someone
to Keep Me is one of my all-time favourites. I had the pleasure of reading this
one before it hit the shelves and I fell in love with Scott and Ben right
away. There is something so innocent and naïve about Scott, and Ben is so stoic.
Both men are flawed, but the flaws are what make them so perfect for one
another and so endearing to readers. They draw strength from one another,
albeit in very different ways. Both men will burrow their way into your heart
and you won’t want them out.
Parker and
KC write so seamlessly together. They are a wonderful team and they have created
a wonderful book that I will be rereading over and over again.
And the
cover. Let me just say, the cover! So beautiful and it fits the story
perfectly.
In
addition to the fantastic blog post they've got for us today, they're also
running a giveaway. Actually, I don't know if it can just be called a giveaway.
There should be a bigger, more fantastic name for what KC and Parker are doing.
They are giving away a Kindle Fire loaded with over 100 books to one lucky
winner.
You can
enter to win this amazing prize here: Rafflecopter giveaway
BLURB:
Eighteen-year-old Scott Keating knows a whole world exists beyond his parents’ strict control, but until he gains access to the World Wide Web, he really has no idea what’s out there. In a chat room, Scott meets “JeffUK.” Jeff loves and understands him, and when he offers to bring Scott to the UK, Scott seizes his chance to escape his humdrum life and see the world. But when his plane touches down and Jeff isn’t there, panic sets in.
Collars & Cuffs favorite barman and Dom-in-training, Ben Winters, drops his sister off at the airport and finds a lost, anxious Scott. Hearing Scott’s story sets off alarm bells, along with his protective instincts. Taking pity on the naïve boy, Ben offers him a place to crash and invites him to Collars & Cuffs, hoping his bosses will know how to help. Scott dreams of belonging to someone, heart and soul. Ben longs for a sub of his own. And neither man sees what’s right under his nose.
Eighteen-year-old Scott Keating knows a whole world exists beyond his parents’ strict control, but until he gains access to the World Wide Web, he really has no idea what’s out there. In a chat room, Scott meets “JeffUK.” Jeff loves and understands him, and when he offers to bring Scott to the UK, Scott seizes his chance to escape his humdrum life and see the world. But when his plane touches down and Jeff isn’t there, panic sets in.
Collars & Cuffs favorite barman and Dom-in-training, Ben Winters, drops his sister off at the airport and finds a lost, anxious Scott. Hearing Scott’s story sets off alarm bells, along with his protective instincts. Taking pity on the naïve boy, Ben offers him a place to crash and invites him to Collars & Cuffs, hoping his bosses will know how to help. Scott dreams of belonging to someone, heart and soul. Ben longs for a sub of his own. And neither man sees what’s right under his nose.
And now, Parker and KC have written something very special for you to give you a little taste of the men from Someone to Keep Me!
Scott
He’d been
drinking. Again. The shouting began earlier than normal, which meant he’d
stopped off on the way home for a few beers with his friends. It also meant
that he’d read the report from my teacher. Being homeschooled wasn’t a picnic.
Having one person who knew everything about what I learned or, in this case,
was disinterested in, really sucked.
“Scott!”
I winced at the tone of the voice because I knew what was going to come next.
Heavy footsteps on the stairs ceased outside my door. It flew open, hitting
hard against the wall, the divot in wood a little deeper each time.
“What the
hell is this?” he shouted, flapping a paper in front of me. Before I could
answer he stepped closer. It hadn’t been beer tonight. He’d been hitting the
hard stuff. Great.
“We’re
paying damn good money for you to get an educashun,” he slurred. “This kind of
work is un-unacceptable. An architect needs to know this shtuff.”
And there
it was. I wasn’t asked what I wanted. I was told. He and my
mother had been telling me since I could remember what I was going to be doing
with my life, and I accepted it.
“Your
mother and I are having dinner,” he snapped. “You’re going to be spending the
night studying.” He grabbed the Nook off my desk and threw it at me, the corner
catching on my arm. I picked it up, opened it, and began reading one of the
books he’d given me on buildings in the US. He grunted and slammed the door
closed behind him. I could feel tears pricking at the corners of my eyes, but I
refused to let them fall. The warmth on my face told me I wasn’t succeeding.
Outside
my window I could hear the people from the coffee shop. I looked out and saw
them sitting close together, having a good time. I wished I could be there with
them. I wanted nothing more than for someone to look at me the way some of
those people stared at one another. Like they were the only thing in the world
at that moment. I heaved a weighty sigh and lay back down on the bed. I fiddled
with some of the settings on the e-reader when I noticed a setting for internet
connectivity. I switched it on and found that I had bars from the coffee shop!
My reading abandoned, I started playing around online. I wished I could lock my
door, but my parents saw no reason I should need privacy. Still, the Nook made
it easy to switch to something else if necessary.
I spent
every spare moment of the next several weeks looking for a life online. I
searched for gay youth and found a website called Top and Bottom Boys that had
a chat room. It was a lively place with kids from all over the world talking
about themselves. It wasn’t really sexy chat, though discussions about things
like condom use did get heated at times. Anything sex related was usually taken
to a private room. I’d had invitations, but never accepted. Still, I longed to
talk about sex with someone. My parents kept me locked up most days. I wasn’t
allowed to go out, not that I had anywhere to go. But I made some acquaintances
in the chat room and they were a good sounding board for me. I promised myself
that one day, I’d accept when someone asked me to chat. Three days later, a
message popped up.
JeffUK: Hi.
HomeboyS: Hello.
JeffUK:
I like your name. What does it mean?
HomeboyS:
Nothing really. I’m at home, I’m a boy, and my name is Scott.
I rolled
my eyes. Thinking of it that way made me roll my eyes.
JeffUK:
Great. My name is Jeff and I live in Manchester, England. You feel up for a
chat?
I took a
deep breath and slowly typed my reply.
HomeboyS:
Yeah. I think I’d like that.
Ben
I wiped
down the top of the bar again. I hated the weekends. Yeah, I made good tips,
but Saturday nights I saw all of the usual people stroll through the door. Leo
and Alex, Miles and Pietro. Even Thomas, whose sub Peter wouldn’t come to the
club, was constantly on the phone with his boy. I wanted that. A sub of my own.
Oh, I didn’t begrudge Thomas his happiness with Peter. Far from it. Though it
did put a crimp in my training. Thomas had offered to find me someone else to
train with, but it felt awkward to me.
My phone
rang, pulling me from my reveries. I smiled when I saw Annie’s name pop up on
the display.
“Annie!
Nice to hear from you. I haven’t seen you all week.”
She
sniffled and I could hear her gasping.
“Annie?
What’s wrong? Are you okay?”
“I-I was
made redundant today,” she sobbed.
It wasn’t
unexpected. Annie’s company had been having money problems, just like most
other places around the world. Still, she brought in some money to the
household we shared and this was definitely going to hurt.
“It’s okay,
we’ll figure something out.”
I ran
some mental calculations and figured I had enough money to support us both for
three, maybe four months, if I really tightened things up. Maybe I could pick
up a few extra shifts. Felix seemed to be in another world lately, so I might
be able to work a few more days.
“I’m
sorry, Benjy,” she whispered.
She
hadn’t called me that in years. She sounded so sad and defeated. I wanted to
hug her and let her know that we’d be okay. I wasn’t expecting the next words,
though.
“Pablo
asked me to go with him back to Spain. He’s going back home next month. Their
job is almost finished here and the next one will be near where he lives. Would
you hate me if I said yes?”
I ran my
thumb and forefinger over the bridge of my nose. It would be a relief that she
had somewhere to go. Pablo worshipped the ground she walked on and I’d never
seen her happier. Still, I’d miss her.
“Of
course I wouldn’t hate you. If that’s what you want to do, you need to go for
it.”
“But the
money—“
“Isn’t
your concern. I’ll find a way to make it work. How long will you be gone?”
She was
quiet for a moment. “A month, maybe.”
I forced
a smile so she wouldn’t hear the desperation in my voice. “I’m happy for you,
hon. Pablo is a great guy.”
“But what
about—“
“Annie,”
I said sternly, “stop worrying.” I looked at the clock. “My shift is almost
done. I’ll grab something for dinner on the way home. What do you feel like?”
“I’ll
make us something. Hurry home.”
With that
she disconnected. I looked at the happy couples watching the men on stage and I
felt my heart break a small bit. Even though I very much wanted what they had,
I realized it was something I was never going to get.
I sighed
and went back to wiping the top of the bar till it shone. Maybe one day.
Bios:
Born and raised in the
north-west of England, K.C.Wells always loved writing. Words were important.
Full stop. However, when childhood gave way to adulthood, the writing ceased,
as life got in the way.
K.C. discovered erotic fiction in 2009, where the purchase of a ménage storyline led to the startling discovery that reading about men in love was damn hot. In 2012, arriving at a really low point in life led to the desperate need to do something creative. An even bigger discovery waited in the wings – writing about men in love was even hotter...
K.C. now writes full-time and is loving every minute of her new career.
The laptop still has no idea of what hit it... it only knows that it wants a rest, please. And it now has to get used to the idea that where K.C goes, it goes.
K.C. can be reached via email (k.c.wells@btinternet.com), on Facebook (http://www.facebook.com/KCWellsWorld) or through comments at the K.C.Wells website (www.kcwellsworld.com ) K.C. loves to hear from readers.
K.C. discovered erotic fiction in 2009, where the purchase of a ménage storyline led to the startling discovery that reading about men in love was damn hot. In 2012, arriving at a really low point in life led to the desperate need to do something creative. An even bigger discovery waited in the wings – writing about men in love was even hotter...
K.C. now writes full-time and is loving every minute of her new career.
The laptop still has no idea of what hit it... it only knows that it wants a rest, please. And it now has to get used to the idea that where K.C goes, it goes.
K.C. can be reached via email (k.c.wells@btinternet.com), on Facebook (http://www.facebook.com/KCWellsWorld) or through comments at the K.C.Wells website (www.kcwellsworld.com ) K.C. loves to hear from readers.
PARKER
WILLIAMS began to write as a teen, but never showed his work to anyone. As he
grew older, he drifted away from writing, but his love of the written word
moved him to reading. A chance encounter with an author changed the course of
his life as she encouraged him to never give up on a dream. With the help of
some amazing friends, he rediscovered the joy of writing, thanks to a community
of writers who have become his family.
Parker firmly believes in love, but is also of the opinion that anything worth having requires work and sacrifice (plus a little hurt and angst, too). The course of love is never a smooth one, and Happily Ever After always has a price tag.
Website: http://www.parkerwilliamsauthor.com
Twitter: https://twitter.com/ParkerWAuthor
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/parker.williams.75641
Parker firmly believes in love, but is also of the opinion that anything worth having requires work and sacrifice (plus a little hurt and angst, too). The course of love is never a smooth one, and Happily Ever After always has a price tag.
Website: http://www.parkerwilliamsauthor.com
Twitter: https://twitter.com/ParkerWAuthor
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/parker.williams.75641
E-mail: parker@parkerwilliamsauthor.com
Excerpt
I was trying to make shopping a fun experience, but Scott wasn’t making it easy. I figured he’d had a heavy morning emotionally, and I thought taking him around Debenhams department store would provide him with a little light relief. I kept holding up these really loud shirts and telling him he’d look good in them. His reaction confused the hell out of me. It was almost as if the boy didn’t know how to have fun. And when I held up some really skimpy underwear, I thought he was going to faint from embarrassment. I kept looking at the clothes he’d picked out. Two pairs of jeans, no problem there, but the shirts were bland, boring even. Scott was eighteen, for God’s sake. In desperation, I picked up a blue shirt I thought would really suit him. The color was a perfect match for his eyes. I held it out to him.
“Would you wear this for me?”
He gazed at me for a moment, and I thought he was going to refuse. Then he nodded shyly. Thank God. I put it in the basket along with his other choices, and we headed for the till. I handed over Leo’s letter of authorization confirming his phone call, and we were done. As we left the store, loaded up with bags, Scott asked for the receipts, to keep them safe to give to Leo.
I snickered. “You do know Leo won’t do anything with those receipts, don’t you?” I knew my boss better than he did.
Scott stopped dead in the middle of the pavement, his mouth open. “What?” I shrugged. He held out his bags. “I’m sorry, I can’t accept these.” God, he could be stubborn.
I rolled my eyes. “Fine, be like that. I’m sure the people at the launderette won’t mind seeing you standing there in your underwear washing your one suit.” I started walking again, laughing inwardly as he caught up to me in a hurry.
Scott tilted his head. “Launderette?”
I searched for the American equivalent. “Laundromat.” A horrified expression crept over his face. Yeah, I’d thought that would make him stop and think. “Can you afford to be proud right now?” His face fell, and I instantly regretted my words. The boy had to see things clearly, though.
Scott looked at his bags of clothing, his expression grudging, to say the least. “Okay, but I still want the receipts.” Out came that chin again. The lad had some backbone to him.
This time I stopped. “You’re going to be stubborn about this, aren’t you?”
The color rose in his cheeks. “It’s not being stubborn, it’s being responsible.” His lips narrowed. “I don’t need someone to take care of me.”
“Fine. Whatever,” I muttered and started walking again. I glanced at the boy surreptitiously as we went along. Regardless of what came out of his mouth, everything about Scott said something entirely different. Alex was right: the lad needed a keeper. I turned off Piccadilly onto London Road, back to the hotel where I’d left the car.
“Where are we going?” Scott looked at me in confusion as he caught sight of the hotel.
“We’re going to my place. I have a flat.”
An eager expression crossed his face. “Do you need help with that?”
I frowned. “Help with what?”
“Your flat. Have you got a jack?”
I struggled for a moment to understand. Then it dawned on me. I laughed. “Okay, for future reference? A flat is an apartment.” I shook my head, still chuckling. “How do you expect to write if you don’t even know English?” His cheeks flamed.
Excerpt
I was trying to make shopping a fun experience, but Scott wasn’t making it easy. I figured he’d had a heavy morning emotionally, and I thought taking him around Debenhams department store would provide him with a little light relief. I kept holding up these really loud shirts and telling him he’d look good in them. His reaction confused the hell out of me. It was almost as if the boy didn’t know how to have fun. And when I held up some really skimpy underwear, I thought he was going to faint from embarrassment. I kept looking at the clothes he’d picked out. Two pairs of jeans, no problem there, but the shirts were bland, boring even. Scott was eighteen, for God’s sake. In desperation, I picked up a blue shirt I thought would really suit him. The color was a perfect match for his eyes. I held it out to him.
“Would you wear this for me?”
He gazed at me for a moment, and I thought he was going to refuse. Then he nodded shyly. Thank God. I put it in the basket along with his other choices, and we headed for the till. I handed over Leo’s letter of authorization confirming his phone call, and we were done. As we left the store, loaded up with bags, Scott asked for the receipts, to keep them safe to give to Leo.
I snickered. “You do know Leo won’t do anything with those receipts, don’t you?” I knew my boss better than he did.
Scott stopped dead in the middle of the pavement, his mouth open. “What?” I shrugged. He held out his bags. “I’m sorry, I can’t accept these.” God, he could be stubborn.
I rolled my eyes. “Fine, be like that. I’m sure the people at the launderette won’t mind seeing you standing there in your underwear washing your one suit.” I started walking again, laughing inwardly as he caught up to me in a hurry.
Scott tilted his head. “Launderette?”
I searched for the American equivalent. “Laundromat.” A horrified expression crept over his face. Yeah, I’d thought that would make him stop and think. “Can you afford to be proud right now?” His face fell, and I instantly regretted my words. The boy had to see things clearly, though.
Scott looked at his bags of clothing, his expression grudging, to say the least. “Okay, but I still want the receipts.” Out came that chin again. The lad had some backbone to him.
This time I stopped. “You’re going to be stubborn about this, aren’t you?”
The color rose in his cheeks. “It’s not being stubborn, it’s being responsible.” His lips narrowed. “I don’t need someone to take care of me.”
“Fine. Whatever,” I muttered and started walking again. I glanced at the boy surreptitiously as we went along. Regardless of what came out of his mouth, everything about Scott said something entirely different. Alex was right: the lad needed a keeper. I turned off Piccadilly onto London Road, back to the hotel where I’d left the car.
“Where are we going?” Scott looked at me in confusion as he caught sight of the hotel.
“We’re going to my place. I have a flat.”
An eager expression crossed his face. “Do you need help with that?”
I frowned. “Help with what?”
“Your flat. Have you got a jack?”
I struggled for a moment to understand. Then it dawned on me. I laughed. “Okay, for future reference? A flat is an apartment.” I shook my head, still chuckling. “How do you expect to write if you don’t even know English?” His cheeks flamed.
Such glowing praise piqued my interest, even before the lovely excerpts!
ReplyDeletevitajex(at)aol(dot)com
Please count me in Thanks!
ReplyDelete