PRG awards 2014

PRG awards 2014

So pleased to announce that I have placed in the PRG awards of 2014

Novels - M/M Romance  - 1st place winner: A Reason to Stay - R.J. Scott

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M/M Romantic Mystery Series - 1st place winner: The End Street Detective Agency - Amber Kell & R.J. Scott

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M/M Paranormal Romance Novella - 2nd place winner: The Case of the Sinful Santa - Amber Kell & R.J. Scott

(incidentally, the 3rd place winner was Catching Kit by Kay Berrisford)










Soulmate for SIN - Izzy van Swelm - Blog Tour

Soulmate for SIN - Izzy van Swelm - Blog Tour

Blurb

The effects of an attack on SIN, a twenty-nine year old University lecturer, reach out further into his future than SIN could ever imagine. In a story, which seems doomed to start with an end, SIN learns about the forever kind of love, and how family is not just biological. ‘Soul-Mate for SIN’ shows how twists of fate can take a loving, but ordinary family, from a small market town in Lincolnshire, England and turn them into something extraordinary.

Author Bio

Izzy van Swelm is English, but took her Mother in Law’s maiden name as a pen name. Izzy dreams of a world where all sentient species have rights and respect. A world where LGBTQ lovers and friends, old and young, can walk holding hands meeting nothing more than the occasional affectionate eye roll. A world where intelligence, gentleness and compassion are the overwhelming attributes of politicians, and religion is practiced by those who believe, but never forced on those who do not.

Izzy is a romantic, a dreamer, a vegetarian and just a little eccentric. Izzy writes because she loves to tell stories, and she hopes that her stories will bring happiness, enjoyment and maybe to some…a little hope.


Tour links

28 Jan - Diverse Reader
29 Jan - RJ Scott
2 Feb - The Hat Party
4 Feb - JP Barnaby
5 Feb - Love Bytes
6 Feb - GGR Reviews

Buy links


Amazon: TBD
ARe: TBD

Character Interview


Hello. Can you tell us your name and who you are?

My name is Snowy, I am married to Sally, and I am Sin’s father.

What do you do for a living Snowy?

Oh it’s very boring I’m an accountant, but I’m hoping to able to retire early and do some travelling with my wife. She doesn’t know that yet, so keep quiet if you talk to her, please.

So what do you like to do for fun, I heard you went with Sin and the others to the Rainbow Lounge? That’s a gay bar and drag club isn’t it?

I really enjoy my garden and vegetable patch, actually Sin helped me when he could after…well you know the ‘incidents’. I like going out to dinner, and I do enjoy a nice single malt whisky on occasion. That reminds me Charlie and Sin owe me a bottle…they drank nearly a whole bottle between them, in tea! I was flabbergasted, £80 a bottle that malt was, a beautiful whisky. (Wipes imaginary tear)

Um…yes…I did go to The Rainbow Lounge, just the once with the boys and my wife and one of Gabe’s nurse friends, Julie, and her new boyfriend. Nice chap I remember we talked about fly fishing.

So Snowy does it bother you that your son is gay and in a serious relationship with another man?

Good grief no! I’m still very close to Sin, and his boyfriend is a really wonderful man couldn’t wish better for my son. Instead of losing a son I gained another J I’m the last one, after what happened, to belittle the problems homophobia cause, but I really don’t understand it. I mean my friends don’t ask Sally and me what we get up to in the bedroom… I’d give ‘em what for if they did! So why do people care what goes on in the private life of anyone else? I’ve heard of poor boys and girls being disowned or thrown out of home because they’ve ‘come out’ to their parents…I don’t understand it.

The way I see it you love your children unconditionally…I mean look at WIN…Oh I can’t talk about that. Anyway, the less I know about what either of my children, straight or gay, do in the privacy of their own homes the better I like it. They’re still my kids and I love them.

Thank you Snowy. Something different what did you think of the drag acts at the Rainbow Lounge?

(Clears throat) Well it was different the… um… compere Miss Clitty Sparkles was a bit over the top you know? You won’t tell her I said that will you, she’s a bit scary for an ordinary chap like me. The music was a bit loud but after a few drinks it was quite amusing and then there was this one act, Lady Charlotte was her name, well she was beautiful and a voice like an angel we were all quite taken with her…shame Charlie missed her. It was a good evening nice to be with all the youngsters once in a while but I do still prefer a quite meal out with Sally.

What can you tell us about Soul Mate for SIN?

Not that much really I don’t read a lot of romances, and Izzy has told us all not to let any ‘spoilers’ out, which will be difficult for my wife (hahahaha) wonderful woman my Sal’ but she does like to talk. It’s about my son obviously and his boyfriend I suppose and the ‘incidents’ and all that hard stuff after… I ‘m told there are a few laughs and tears and knowing those boys some things I don’t want to know anything about (clears throat) Knowing Izzy it’s probably a jolly good read.

Well thank you Snowy that wasn’t too painful was it?

No, no not too bad at all thank you…um…can I go now?

Competition

Storming Love - Blizzard: Jens and Elliot - Sara York

Storming Love - Blizzard: Jens and Elliot - Sara York

First release in the Storming Love: Blizzard, series by Sara York

Jens Arnesen is only looking for a taste of the city, a place to experience Boston. What he finds is a sexy naked man who ends up being more than he bargained for. Elliot Matthews needs a place to stay until the storm blows over and the airports open. Being walked in on by Jens starts out as an annoyance but grows into the best thing in his life. 

When the skies clear and the airports open, they have no choice but to part. If only they lived closer to each other then life would be perfect. When the storm throws them together, can Jens and Elliot make the most of the situation?

MLR Press | Amazon (UK) | Amazon (US)

Sara York | RJ Scott | Nicole Dennis | Neil Plakcy | Viktor Alexander | Jackie Nacht


The Bucket List

The Bucket List

The Book

When Andrew Craig dies, he leaves his brother Jason a list of places that he wanted to visit but couldn't. Attending a school reunion, London, Stonehenge, these are all on the list and Jason is determined to cross everything off and work through his grief at the same time.

Closeted soap actor Mark Wesley is shocked when a blast from the past looks him up, and devastated when he realizes he will never have a chance to make things right.

Together Jason and Mark agree to work on the list. But what happens when Jason and Mark grow closer, when passion and even love begins to grow?

Was this what Andrew wanted to happen all along between his brother and his friend?


Buy Links - eBook

Amazon (US) | Amazon (UK)Barnes & Noble | Kobo | Smashwords | iTunes


Buy Links - Print Book

Amazon (US) | Amazon (UK)


Reviews

Rainbow Gold Reviews - 10/10 - "....Beautiful and heartbreaking in one emotionally charged, well written novella.

There hasn’t been a RJ Scott book that I haven’t enjoyed, and I couldn’t help but wonder, could this be the book that didn’t work for me?  Well I guess I will keep wondering because this wasn’t that time....

....This novella, well I can’t say enough good things about this one.  I loved it and would highly recommend this to you if you are looking for a story with some heartache and a whole lot of love...."

Bike Book Reviews - 5/5 - "....This book is a lovely little treasure that I can't wait for you to read! Thanks Rj for another beautiful read that will be at the top of everyone's re-read list!...."
Click on cover to enlarge

Prism Book Alliance - 4/5 - "....Scott has the ability to write characters who are real without being over-drawn. She leaves many details just out of sight, because they are not essential to the core of her story. We are not handed great amounts of angst, nor are there horrific traumas unexpectedly revealed. Yes, there is a mystery that needs explaining; and there is sorrow in Mark’s youth that needs to be exorcised. Scott gives us just enough to help us embrace both Jason and Mark for all the good things they are, and to understand their motivations as they rediscover each other through their shared love of Andrew and grief over his untimely death.

Romances can take many forms, and that variety is one of the things that appeals to me most about the genre. “The Bucket List,” however, is pretty purely a romance. In its purity and simplicity lies its success. Sometimes, less is more...."

Love Bytes Reviews - 4/5 - "....RJ packed a lot in to a small space and I liked it all. A little plot, a little sex, a little travel, a little grief, and a little healing. She uses a delicate touch, giving us just enough drama from the past to keep in interesting, and some grief over Andrew’s death, but it didn’t get mopy. I liked it very much!

Oh yes… That cover? Hello! So pretty!...."

Multitaskingmommas Book Reviews - 4.5/5 - "....This is definitely one of the best and fastest read written by RJ Scott and, well, it left me feeling really, really good. Definitely one to add to that list or just go for broke, sit with a cup of tea and finish in an afternoon...."

Excerpt

Chapter 1

Jason Craig cursed under his breath. How many times did he have to say the same thing? Why wasn’t this guard listening to him?

“Excuse me, sir, I’m here to see Mark Wesley.”

The guard ignored Jason for the third time. So far, the built-like-a-brick-outhouse rent-a-cop—Bill, according to his nametag—had let in a delivery of doughnuts, two bouquets of flowers, and the teased-blonde-haired interviewer from the local news station with a microphone in her hand and a cameraman following closely behind her.

The guard had let each of these in with a smile, and not for the first time, Jason wished he had thought about this in advance and maybe booked an interview—if it was at all possible to actually get an appointment with an actor on a closed set.

“Excuse me. Please,” Jason tried again. This time, the guard actually looked down at him from his lofty six and a half foot height and frowned.

“I heard you the first three times, sir, but you need to move on now,” he said. At least his tone was civil even if he hadn’t deigned to really talk to Jason.

“I have to get in to see Mark Wesley,” Jason replied.

“Join the line,” Bill said. He nodded toward the group of thirtysomething women on what looked like some kind of MILF day out. They were all pointing and giggling and shrieking whenever the door opened. Jason sighed. He’d been lumped in with the fans congregating to catch sight of the stars. He wasn’t a fan. Hell, he hadn’t even watched anything Mark was in. According to the IMDB profile for Mark Wesley, he played some kind of rich-boy lothario who bedded and connived and generally filled the bad-boy role in a soap that had been running a very long time.

Who am I kidding? He might have looked at IMDB recently, but at the end of the day, he actually had somewhat followed Mark’s career for years since Andrew, his brother, would mention things about Mark every now and then. He’d already known the boy who’d left town one night and never come back was now gracing the walls of many a fan’s bedroom.

“Can I make an appointment, then?” Jason asked, a little desperate.

“You should write to the studio, sir. Meanwhile, you may want to go stand over there. Some of the actors will be out later to see their adoring fans as per usual.” The guard sounded firm at first, but the second part of the sentence was dripping with sarcasm.

“I’m not a fan,” Jason protested. He looked over again at the chattering women. A couple were staring at him and pointing. Shuffling his feet and suddenly feeling uncomfortable, he wondered where to start to explain so he could get in. “I tried to find out where Mark lived and wanted to track down his family…” He stopped. I sound like some kind of creepy stalker fan. “Look, can you just maybe give him a note for me?”

Bill looked like he was ten seconds away from calling the cops on Jason. That would be just freaking great. How would he explain an arrest record for stalking to the education board when he was back at school? Finally Bill motioned toward a pile of books and notes and teddies that sat on the chair in his small hut.

“You can add a note to the pile.”

The pile? Jason didn’t have time for a note to be added to any kind of disorganized heap. He had exactly two days to get in, talk to Mark, and get him to agree to number one on his brother’s crazy-assed bucket list. The reunion is Saturday. We need to get home.

“If you could move away, sir,” Bill said.

Part of Jason wanted to take a stand and not move, but rebellion wasn’t really part of his makeup and he walked a few steps back. A voice to his side had Jason twisting on his heel. “Excuse me, my friend made me come over.” Jason faced one of the women from the group. He forced a mask of civility into place. Never let it be said his mom didn’t raise him right. “She thinks you are that Scottish guy from Days. You know, the one with the stepparents who turned out to be practicing voodoo and who ended up kidnapping the sister with the twins.”

“I’m sorry—”

“I said you weren’t him and that you were actually a lot better-looking than the Scottish guy, whose name I forget, Niall or Nick or something. Also, up close, you look way younger.” She tilted her head and let out a soft tinkling laugh, then placed a hand flat on his jacket. Jason instantly stepped backward. He wasn’t sure what Days was, but it didn’t sound like a good thing, not the way the rest of the group of women were staring at him like he was a side of beef on sale at the market.

“No. I’m not. I just need to…” He trailed off as two other women from the group joined the first, all three laughing and giggling and touching him. They’re touching me. Looking the guard directly in the eye, he hoped he telegraphed the sheer naked fear inside. Bill wouldn’t even glance at him, but there was a definite smirk on his round face.

“You could be a soap star, though,” Woman One simpered.

“Are you here auditioning?” Woman Two asked. She pressed scarlet-tipped fingers into his biceps and leaned into him. “Niiiice…”

“No, I’m n-not an, uhm, actor. I’m here to visit—” He took another step back when the remainder of the group joined the first three. Fifteen to one was not fair. It was only then, when he was surrounded, that the guard chose to intervene.

“Ten minutes, ladies,” Bill said. “Then the cast are coming out for photos.”

The group melted away from Jason like butter from a knife, and there were a lot of cackling laughs as they grouped around the narrow entrance and the gated hut the guard used. Resolving to get this sorted out, Jason excused himself as he passed by each woman and finally made his way through the heavily perfumed crowd and back to the guard.

“Please can you just tell him that Andrew Craig’s brother is here?” he called over the raised voices and chattering.

“Andrew Craig?”

“Yes. Andrew Craig. I’m Jason, his little brother.”

Seeming to take some kind of pity on Jason, Bill scribbled the name in a notebook. Jason wasn’t sure what changed; maybe only barely making it out alive from a pack of rabid housewives was a badge of honor that Bill wanted to reward. Jason made his way back to the wall and away from the group. He didn’t have to wait long. The door opened and people stepped out. Who had come out, Jason couldn’t see over the small sea of women in heels, but there was a lot of excitement.

He went on tiptoes, but he couldn’t see Mark, no one with dark hair, just two women and a blond man. Inspiration hit—maybe he could ask one of them to tell Mark he was here. He tried his best to make his way through, but the women had formed an impenetrable wall and he was too polite to shove. By the time Jason made it to the front, the door had shut and anyone from the show had gone.

Jason deflated, then decided he would wait for as long as it took for Mark to come see him. What he was waiting for, he wasn’t sure. Was it to have the guard come get him? Had Bill even given the note to Mark? Was the actor aware he was here? When the women walked away, all with huge grins and two exchanging oohs and aahs of having had their breasts signed by the blond Adonis, Jason was left standing alone with only Bill for company. He looked up at the guard expectantly.

“I sent in the name,” Bill said simply.

“And?”

“And nothing. Mark’s people have the note.”

Mark’s people? They wouldn’t know the name Andrew Craig. What was the point in giving it to them? The name should be given to Mark. It had been so many years, but surely Mark would recall Andrew. “They won’t know who Andrew is. Look, please. I need to see him. Can I write a longer note? To explain?”

“Like I said, they have your name.”

Jason contemplated his next move. What if he told Bill why he was standing here? He’d already said he’d tried to find out where Mark lived and placed himself squarely in scary stalker territory. Would it help if he told Bill about Andrew dying? Would that get him any compassion points to get through the door marked Private? Grief washed over him, and the memory of his brother’s voice filled his head.

“First thing, little brother. And this is the important one. Find Mark Wesley and make him see you. Explain to him. Tell him the keeper of his secrets has died. He’ll know exactly what you mean. And for fuck’s sake, get him to the reunion.”
“My brother died,” Jason said. Bill looked at him, and for a second, compassion softened his hard features.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“Mark was his friend… I have to…”

The guard shook his head. He’d probably heard all kinds of reasons as to why people needed to get inside the closed set. Seemed like bereavement wasn’t going to swing it.



* * * * *



Mark Wesley slumped back on the closed toilet seat, and the last remaining ounce of energy left him in a noisy sigh. Two minutes’ peace. That’s all I want. But that wasn’t happening.

Mark blamed Evan. His agent had told him how good this fly-on-the-wall documentary would be. Emma Watkins is at the top of her game at the moment, she’ll give you good exposure.
What Mark hadn’t realized when he’d signed up for it was that it meant being constantly followed around by her and her cameraman. Which in turn meant no time to himself. Including bathroom time. They’d followed him for two weeks solid already. Consigned to digital film was hours of him acting, learning lines, going for dinner, and sleeping. They also asked far too many questions that slid close to things he had agreed with his agent wouldn’t become public.

“Mr. Wesley?”

Jeez. Did she never give up? She was inside the men’s bathroom and outside his stall door. Quickly, he glanced up, expecting to see the cameraman leaning over the top of the stall next to him. He could see the headlines now: Soap Actor Takes Crap, full frontal pics page five. Didn’t he even get a minute’s peace in the men’s room?

“I’ll be out in a minute, Emma,” he said. He was aiming for patience, but instead there was loosely restrained irritability.

“But—”

“Just give a guy a few minutes to himself,” Mark snapped. He heard the noise of her heels on the tiled floor, some muffled talking between her and the camera guy, and the sound of the closing door. One more hour, that was all he had to handle. Then she was gone to edit whatever she could from his boring life. Cautiously he opened the stall door and checked by the sinks. They really had left. He wouldn’t put it past Emma to have faked leaving just so she got a shot of him doing up his fly.

Crossing to the sink, he washed his hands and checked himself in the mirror. His skin had the orange tint of makeup, and in this light he looked like he had a badly applied fake tan. Getting in the makeup chair every day was not one of the perks of the job. He loved his work, and getting paid well for what was essentially a nine-to-five job was a definite plus in his eyes. Didn’t mean he enjoyed his privacy being disregarded, though. The door opened and rounded on the interloper with temper on his tongue, only relaxing when he saw it was his agent, Evan Rogers.

“If you don’t get that woman out of my face—”

“Mark, I get that you’re pissed—”

“She followed me into the goddamned bathroom, Evan.”

“I’m just as upset as you are—”

“Bullshit, Evan. She hasn’t followed you to film you taking a crap.”

“She filmed you doing that?”

“No, fuck, I wasn’t… I was just hiding…”

“I get it’s been intrusive—”

“You don’t know.” He and Evan had even done some playacting for the documentary, pretend business meetings discussing film options. Make-believe film options. But still, a couple of meetings was nothing like the kind of intense focus that had been on Mark.

“Mark? You okay?” Evan looked concerned. He made sure the main door was completely shut and leaned against it. “Talk to me.”

Mark sighed and rested his hands on the sink, bowing his head. “Yeah, just needed some space, is all.” No sense in lying to the guy who guided his career and who was the only other person to know all, or nearly all, of his secrets. No point in arguing with one of his only friends in the business.

“Just another hour,” Evan said. “You can do it.” He grinned. “Imagine the vacation you can have on the proceeds from this work. It’s money for nothing.”

“And you,” Mark deadpanned. Evan took a percentage of his earnings and would be doing okay off this documentary. Mark didn’t begrudge him, though. Evan worked hard and had gotten him this gig as the resident bad guy in the number-one daytime soap. That in itself was kudos and had made Mark a nice bank balance that sat pretty much untouched. Mark shouldn’t be shouting at the guy.

“I’m raising my rates,” Evan teased. “I want to take you for enough money to get a five-star hotel and a private beach.” He poked a finger at Mark’s chest. “With several naked gorgeous women to choose from.”

Mark smiled. Evan’s rate was a standing joke. “Don’t know what Mary would say about that. Ten years of marriage and you want a new woman?”

Evan wrinkled his nose. “I didn’t say I would touch the scantily dressed women. Just to look at the menu. I’d have some naked guys for her as well.” He snapped his fingers. “You should come and get yourself a guy.”

The last he said in a whisper; even so, Mark frowned at him. They didn’t talk about Mark’s preferences in public. That was way too dangerous.

“Look, I’ll be out in a minute,” he said.

“No worries, I’ll keep her off your back. But there was a reason I was looking for you. Some guy gave a note to Bill, and I wanted to let you know before you go back on set.”

“What is it?” Mark was curious. Evan dealt with fan mail, passing the whole lot in bulk to Mark when Mark had time to actually look at it. He didn’t usually pass over random individual notes.

“It’s not just the usual, so I thought I’d run it by you first, and it mentions that town you used to live in.”

“Cooper’s Yard?”

“Yep. The guy says his name is Jason and that he’s a younger brother of—hang on…” Evan checked the note. “Andrew Craig?”

Jeez. That was a shock from the past. Andrew Craig, from Cooper’s Yard, and his brother Jason. God.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve heard those names,” Mark said. It really had been. Just after his fifteenth birthday, Mark had moved away from the town he’d lived in from birth. Even though he should probably have gone back and seen Andrew, explained things, he never had. Life got in the way. Andrew had his own life now, anyway, he was sure.

“You know him, then?”

“I remember Andrew Craig and his brother,” Mark said. “From way back.”

“Before the reinvention?” Evan asked gently. Mark frowned. He hated that Evan called it that, even though that was essentially what it had been. Rising like a phoenix, a new Mark Wesley had been created from the old one who had too many shitty memories.

“Yeah,” he answered simply because he didn’t need to elaborate at all. Evan knew more about that time than anyone else. Except for Andrew Craig.

“What do you want me to do? We can’t let him on set as it stands; security won’t pass him.”

Mark considered the question. Andrew Craig was such a fond memory. They’d been as close as fifteen-year-old boys could be. Riding bikes around the neighborhood, climbing trees, noticing girls. Well, Andrew noticed girls. Not so much, Mark. Nope, he noticed boys.

He’d thought about his old friend sometimes. He knew how easy it would be to find where he lived and what he was up to. He never did, though. Never enough time, never the right moment. And the way they parted, what Mark had said? That was a memory he didn’t want right now.

I wonder if Andrew ever thinks of me in return? And why is Jason here? What does he want?
Andrew Craig. The only boy Mark had ever told everything to. The only person who knew all of the secrets Mark had inside. Knew what had happened with his less than stellar family life. Knew he had liked boys over girls.

“Can you go out and tell him that I’ll come find him when we finish. Tell him one more scene and I’m done.”

“What about the rest of the interviews with Emma?” Evan looked down at the note and back up at Mark. Mark could tell he was calculating times and schedules in his head.

“They just need a last goodbye thing. I’m going to get that done, get this last take down.” Inspiration hit him. “Tell security to let Jason through to Gino’s, surely they can allow that. I’ll be an hour; two hours, tops. See if he’ll wait.”

Evan nodded and left, and Mark stared at the wall, deep in thought. Maybe Andrew had asked his brother to look him up here in LA. Mark recalled Jason as a skinny kid with braces and the misfortune to trip over his own feet, but with the promise of so much more. The two brothers were close, though, Andrew and Jason, despite the usual sibling rivalries.

It had been so long since Mark had thought of the town that he had left behind. Cooper’s Yard, population three thousand and a handful of change. Or of Andrew. Rolling his shoulders, he looked from left to right to remove some of the kinks in his neck and then left his haven to walk straight into a camera slap bang in his face.

“So talk us through this take,” Emma said. Her voice was brittle. Clearly, Mark’s hiding in the bathroom was a sore point.

Forcing civility into his voice, he began to explain why they had to retake the last scene, but at the back of his mind, he was thinking of other things. He couldn’t wait for Gino’s coffee, a Danish, and to meet up with Jason. He was intrigued by what his old friend’s brother wanted, and maybe, just maybe, he could get an address and look Andrew up.

It was time.



Chapter 2

Gino’s was a regular haunt for the cast of the many network shows filmed in the huge hangers on the Burbank lot. A person needed to pass through security to get in to the coffee shop, but it was outside the strict ‘inner circle’ studio guards. Somewhere for the actors, directors, camera guys, PAs, makeup people—anyone, really—just to meet and drink coffee. Mark opened the door and let out two guys from the local weather show who smiled and nodded to him as they passed. The wait gave him a few seconds to inhale the scent of coffee and for his taste buds to tell him it had been far too long since he’d had one of Gino’s caramel macchiato specialties. Well, at least twenty-four hours too long.

He glanced around and discounted the people he recognized until his gaze landed on someone at a far table sitting with his back to the door. If that was Jason, then he had certainly grown, filled out, if broad shoulders were anything to go by.

“Hey,” Gino said in greeting. The diminutive Italian rubbed harder at a spot on his immaculate counter and then stopped to get Mark’s order. “What can I get ya?”

“The usual,” Mark returned. Gino grinned, did his thing with the huge silver coffee machine, and passed the completed coffee to Mark, who exchanged the nectar for dollars.

“Drink,” Gino encouraged.

“Thanks, Gino. God, I need this.” Mark sipped the brew and burnt his tongue with scalding bitterness followed by a spark of sweet. Beautiful.

“You still got that blonde following you around the studio?”

Mark shook his head, then cast a glance around to see if anyone was close by and could hear. “No,” he said quietly. “Thank God, it’s all done now.”

“Can’t see as what she got from following you to drink coffee. I can see the headlines now”—Gino waved his hands in the air—“Actor Drinks Coffee, exclamation mark, exclamation mark.”

“Actor Burns Mouth, more like,” Mark pointed out and grinned. When Mark turned from the counter, he saw the guy in the corner had turned to face them and had an expectant smile on his face. Jason. He looked so much like Andrew, only with more red in his dark hair and with a wider smile. Mark smiled in return, sketched a wave, and then carefully weaved his way through abandoned chairs and half-asleep studio staff to reach the table his friend’s brother had chosen to use. Jason stood and Mark looked up—and up—at the man who was at least a few inches taller than him.

“You grew into your legs, then, Stretch?” Mark said. The teasing caused Jason to smile, but it was a respectful smile and one that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “It’s been a long time.”

“Hi, Mark,” he said. He extended a hand, and Mark shook it firmly before placing his coffee on the table and sliding into the chair opposite. Jason really had grown into his height. Always kind of cute as a geeky adolescent, Jason had become a fine-looking man. Gone were the braces and the thick-rimmed glasses that never quite managed to stay on his nose. In their place was a beautiful smile with even white teeth, and a very clear view of Jason’s sapphire blue eyes, exactly the same as his brother Andrew’s eyes. His hair was longer, cut in the layers, and bangs fell nearly to his eyes even with the sculpted style. He must be thirty now? Hell, it made Mark feel old to be sitting opposite the kid he remembered at eleven or twelve.

“How are you, Jason?” Mark asked politely.

“I’m okay,” Jason said. His tone belied the words, though. Instead of being calm and positive, it was actually tight. “You look… happy.”

What a curious thing to say. “I like my job here, working here…” Stupid. Calm down. You’ve sat opposite a good-looking man before. Just never one that he’d known as a kid. “Do you want some more coffee?” He changed the subject.

Jason indicated the three coffee containers and the empty water bottle. “Any more and they will need to scrape me off the ceiling.”

“I know the feeling. Coffee keeps me going all day.”

Both men sat quietly, looking at each other, and Mark waited as long as he could before he decided to be the one to start talking.

“It’s been a while, Jason,” Mark began. “I’m sorry you had to wait outside. If I’d known you were coming, I could have got you on a studio tour, got you backstage or something. Hell, you could probably be an extra. Do you act?” He wasn’t entirely sure where the verbal diarrhea was coming from, but Jason went from startled to shaking his head.

“I only came here because Andrew told me to.”

“How is Andrew? I’ve been meaning to catch up. I can’t believe it’s been…” Mark trailed away. Something wasn’t right. Jason’s expression was bleak. Devastation cut deep into Jason’s face, and his blue eyes held so much anguish. Why was Jason here? What did he want to tell Mark? He couldn’t be here to tell him… It couldn’t be.

“I’m sorry,” Jason was saying. “Andrew passed away a few weeks ago. He’d had a mercifully short battle with cancer, and he died at home like he wanted to, surrounded by family.” The words were rehearsed. Jason had probably said them so many times. No one used mercifully in a sentence for real.

Shock struck Mark dumb. Grief followed the shock, unbidden. Images of the Andrew he knew, the boy he remembered, superimposed themselves on Jason’s sad expression, and it was all too much. Andrew had been the same age as him, both of them just into their thirties.

“He was only thirty-three,” Mark managed to force out.

“I know,” Jason responded in a low and level voice.

“But. He can’t… We didn’t…” Mark slumped back in his chair. This was impossible. This wasn’t right.

“He left me a list of things he wanted me to do for him. Kind of a bucket list, I guess.” He paused, then cleared his throat. “Top of that list was to find you and give you your own letter.” Jason reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out an envelope that had seen better days.

He placed it flat on the table and nudged it gently with one finger toward Mark. In response, Mark pulled away sharply. His chair made a horrible screech on the linoleum, and it seemed that every person in the room turned to look at him. When all he did was sit absolutely still, they all lost interest and the general level of chatter increased again.

“I’m so sorry, Jason,” he finally said. The letter remained where Jason had placed it, and Mark made no move to pick it up. “Losing a brother… jeez… I’m… It must be so hard. Was he married? Did he have kids?”

Jason nodded, eyes bright and worrying his upper lip his teeth. “He married Joanna three years ago and I have a two-year-old nephew, Harry.”

“You do? He did?” Mark smiled through the pain in his chest. “A wife? And he left a child here, a permanent mark.” He wondered if the toddler was a direct copy of Andrew, all mischief and sparkly-eyed and into everything. Mark had first met Andrew when they were little, but his memories of being so young were blurry. He wished he had photos, but his mom had burned everything a long time before she’d died.

“He said I have to wait for you to open the letter,” Jason encouraged. Mark reached for the innocent-looking green envelope and turned it over to look at the closure. Sliding a finger from the corner, he soon had it open and tipped the contents onto the table. A condom and a square card. Picking up the condom, he placed it carefully in one hand. Tears clogged his throat as memory upon memory cascaded in his head.

“He always said… all I needed was…”

Andrew had been so serious. “Just promise me you’ll always stay safe. Always use a condom.”

Andrew’s joking acceptance of Mark’s sexuality had been welcome after so much angst, but Mark’s voice choked in his throat. He couldn’t finish the sentence. Jason reached out and placed a hand over his and squeezed before pulling away. Andrew had been his staunchest supporter when he’d revealed he was gay, well finally revealed, anyway. At first Andrew had been horrified, but that had been bad timing. After a while there was no hesitation in his old friend, just a whole new opportunity for teasing him. Hence the condom.

“’Course, I had to look hard for a pack of extra small,” Andrew had added, which resulted in him and Mark wrestling in wet grass. The memory made Mark smile and want to cry at the same time.

“It’s okay,” Jason said. He’d probably done a lot of that. Sat listening to new grief from each person he told, then had to deal with helping those people come to terms. That wasn’t fair at all.

Mark blinked back the emotion and slid the condom in his pocket at the same time Jason released his grip. Damn Andrew and his shout-out from the grave, his words from all those years ago spinning in his mind.

“You should just be honest, Mark. The people that judge you are the ones that don’t matter. I’ll never stop being your friend just because you want to kiss Danny Foster and not his sister Trisha.”
Picking up the card, Mark turned it over and he blinked as he read the words, then reread them, not really believing what he was seeing.

Because apparently Andrew had seen fit to give him a ticket to the Cooper’s Yard High School fifteenth reunion, their old high school in a town Mark had left too many years ago to recall.

God. No. He’d moved schools, and the last thing he wanted to do was ever set foot back in his old school again. The gymnasium was the scene of his humiliation, of the final nail, of the moment he screwed a lid tight on so many secrets. Why would Andrew give him a ticket to that?

“Fuck no,” he managed to force out. Then his own disbelief was pushed to one side when Jason placed a card of his own on the table. That invite had Andrew’s name on it.

“This is mine. He wanted me to go in his place.”

Tears pricked Mark’s eyes, but he was not going to let the shock make him cry, not in front of Jason, who looked so bleak but was being so damn strong.

“Are you going?”

Jason nodded. “He wanted us to go with each other. I guess he figures that seeing me and the two invites together would hold some sway in getting you to go. I have something I am supposed to read you now,” Jason said uncomfortably. Mark looked up at him, confusion building. “It’s the end of number four on my own list. Is it okay?”

Mark didn’t want to know why this was number four, or what numbers one to three had been. Funeral arrangements? Music? Possessions? I feel sick. He nodded to indicate Mark should continue.

“Andrew wrote this himself just after he was first diagnosed, when he was going through his first treatments. Just in case you think any of this was done when he was near the end and his mind wasn’t…” Jason stopped talking for a moment.

“It’s okay,” Mark encouraged.

“He says I need to say this exactly as he wrote it, so here goes. ‘Mark, take these tickets and use them. The school is a much less scary place when you drive a Porsche and have made a life you can be proud of. Don’t let them win with their dead dreams. Oh and mostly, make sure you meet my beautiful wife and my gorgeous son, you’ll love them. Tell Harry all our stories so he knows his dad.’”

Jason finished and placed the letter back in a scuffed notebook where a small stack of letters were pushed tight and held with a band.

“That’s pretty heavy stuff.”

Jason shrugged. “I know.”

Mark swallowed. Didn’t matter how Jason tried to explain, fear held Mark tight and wasn’t letting him go any time soon. Andrew had known what had happened at that school, so why would he even suggest Mark go back to the place that gave him so much misery?

“I really don’t understand why he wants me to go back to a town that I hated, to a school I hated, to go to a damned party.”

“There has to be some reason,” Jason said. His tone was very calm, but there was a hint of trepidation. He was expecting Mark to laugh this off probably. After all, Mark and Andrew hadn’t seen each other in a long while. Jason probably looked at him and saw an ex-friend who didn’t care enough about Andrew to have even checked up on him.

Mark had so many emotions winding their way through him. All he wanted to do was get a bottle of whiskey and lose himself in grief for a few hours, remember what he used to be and the Andrew he recalled.

He moved Jason’s ticket so it sat next to his, and seeing the two names next to each other was like a knife to the gut. He pushed Jason’s ticket—Andrew’s ticket—back toward him and turned his own ticket over and over in his hand. Then he looked into Jason’s bright blue eyes and saw they held a combination of hope and despair.

Jason’s grief and expectations were a weight on him, and regret, fear, sadness, and pity all fought for dominance. But at the end of the day, acceptance won. He was clearly in some kind of shock but his heart knew he would do this for Andrew.



“Okay,” he said simply. “If that is what he wanted, if it helps, then I’ll go.”



Skylar M Cates - Here For You - Cover Reveal

Skylar M Cates - Here For You - Cover Reveal

TITLE: Here For You
SERIES: Sunshine and Happiness #1
AUTHOR: Skylar M. Cates
PUBLISHER: Dreamspinner Press

Life is a thread connecting us. One pull and it all unravels.


Cole Gannon arrives in the seaside town of Ocean Vista to work as a bartender and finally find a place to belong. Determined to make a home for himself, Cole lives happily with his four colorful roommates, whom he considers brothers. The only problem is Cole's attraction to Ian Stark—a guy all wrong for him. He wishes he didn’t keep running into the sexy lawyer.

Ian knows Cole is attracted to him, but the younger man keeps him at arm’s length. It only makes Ian more determined to be with Cole and learn all his secrets. But while Ian has built a successful law practice, he hasn’t done too well with relationships.

When a sudden and devastating tragedy occurs, it shatters Cole's world and throws Cole and Ian together in unexpected ways. In an instant, everything between them changes forever.

Reveal


Click here for a YouTube video reveal - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8gGsw8wxyDI

Pre-order Links


http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/store/product_info.php?products_id=6037

Author Bio


Skylar M. Cates loves a good romance. She is quite happy to drink some coffee, curl up with a good book, and not move all day. Most days, however, Skylar is chasing after her husband, her kids, and her giant dog, Wasabi.

Author Links


Facebook - https://www.facebook.com/skylar.cates
Twitter - https://twitter.com/SkylarMCates
Blog - http://skylarmcates.wordpress.com/
a Rafflecopter giveaway



Cover Artist: AngstyG
Release Date: 27th February, 2015
Cover Reveal Event Organized by
Creative Minds
http://creativemindpromotions.wordpress.com/

Coming soon...

Coming soon...

January


The Bucket List (28th)

When Andrew Craig dies, he leaves his brother Jason a list of places that he wanted to visit but couldn't. Attending a school reunion, London, Stonehenge, these are all on the list and Jason is determined to cross everything off and work through his grief at the same time.

Closeted soap actor Mark Wesley is shocked when a blast from the past looks him up, and devastated when he realizes he will never have a chance to make things right.

Together Jason and Mark agree to work on the list. But what happens when Jason and Mark grow closer, when passion and even love begins to grow?

Was this what Andrew wanted to happen all along between his brother and his friend?

February

Alpha, Delta (2nd)

Finn Hallan is a member of the elite Norwegian Emergency Response Unit, code name Delta. When the team is sent to respond to a hostage situation on a Oil Platform in the Norwegian Sea, he has to face demons he thought he had buried a long time ago.

Scottish engineer Niall Faulkner’s skills in oil platform decommissioning takes him to the Forseti platform at the worst possible time. When he’s captured by terrorists, his only thought is that he will never get to tell his lover how he really feels.

Can Finn keep Niall alive? Or will they both die at the hands of hijackers in the frigid waters of the Norwegian sea?

Storming Love: Blizzard - Seth & Casey (6th)

Seth Wild is a fire fighter who has lost everything. Nearly dying in a building collapse, he is scared and angry and chases away the only good thing in his life—school teacher Casey McGuire.

When a sudden and violent snow storm hits their town he receives a message Casey and ten kids are trapped in an education center with no way out. There is no one else who can help, he’s the last fire fighter in town with his bum leg and his icy heart.

He doesn’t hesitate. He always promised he would be Casey’s hero, but will he ever again be Casey’s love?

March

Max and The Prince (Bodyguards Inc book 3) (TBA)

Bodyguard Max Connery is used to being mistaken for being younger than he is.

Being carded every time he buys a beer is usual. Even though he's just turned twenty eight and has two tours in Afghanistan as a pilot under his belt.

When a threat is made on the life of a prince attending University in the UK, Max is the perfect choice to blend in with the mixed house of students and to keep Prince Lucien safe. Even if it means joining the swim team to be by his side.

But, when death visits the halls, abruptly this job is a long way past keeping the prince happy and safe. Instead Max has to keep Lucien alive.

April

For a Rainy Afternoon (1st)

Robbie MacIntyre runs a small Post Office made from a converted Station House in a village northwest of London. He is stunned when a close friend leaves him the property as an inheritance after her death.

She owned the shop and has left everything to him. Not only that but she has left the place she lived, Apple Tree Cottage, to an American - a stranger who has recently moved to Barton Hartshourn.

The sealed box that they inherit includes several rare first editions and a cookery book. Only when the secrets of the ingredients in a particular recipe are finally revealed does everything begin to make sense... and a love story that began seventy years ago is finally uncovered.

Piracy

Piracy

Mostly I can't be bothered with piracy.

My books are all over the place and I can hear you saying that I SHOULD be bothered. After all, these people are stealing from me and my family.

So, me making a sweeping statement about not caring seems a little at odds with my passionate wish for life to be fair.

But you have to understand one thing.

I have 70 or so books out there. Books like Texas, Throwaway, Sanctuary, they're all available at various points in time on torrent/download site. They have figures for amount of downloads next to them, which you only have to see on the screen shot below, that make you think, holy ****** shit... they have downloaded that many? I have had books appear on pirate sites within an hour of release... a freaking HOUR...

When people tell me I issue take-down notices. Most of them remove my books pretty damn sharpish. Some sites appear to have NO links for take-down and I spend as much time as I can trying to find a link but for ***** sake... it takes so long. Every hour that takes me away from writing, worrying about people getting my books for free, dissing me by freely sharing what I worked hard to create... that is a lost hour. Not to mention that I get so cross and upset.

You only have to look at the screen print below. Say I make £1 per copy of Jesse's Christmas (ish) that is £617 that I have lost. I know these people wouldn't have bought, I know all the theories backing up piracy... But... if I let that keep me up at night then I wouldn't write.

So, I don't think about it. In fact I genuinely try to avoid it, I don't go searching, I just deal with pirates if someone tells me. So... when I get a new book out and someone buys it then refunds it immediately. or when I have a pirated version of a book appear when only 20 have been bought, an hour after release... what do I do?

I could rail, and rant, and spend time working on it, but I am one person. I have to prioritize and after five years of this I have found my way of dealing with it. I DO care, I DON'T want to be pirated, it makes me ANGRY and UPSET and VIOLATED... so I do what I do best in my life. I compartmentalize it and shut the lid of the box I put it in so I can carry on with the more positive things in my life.

I want to write, and I don't want people to steal my work... That's all. It's not much to ask is it?



Cover Reveal - For A Rainy Afternoon

Cover Reveal - For A Rainy Afternoon

Coming 1 April from Dreamspinner Press

One of five books in a writing project titled The Tales of the Curious Cookbook, written with Marie Sexton, Amber Kell, Amy Lane and Mary Calmes.

Tales of the Curious Cookbook

It’s called comfort food for a reason.

Not much is known about the cookbook, except that years ago, the mysterious Granny B collected a set of magical recipes and wrote them down. Over the years, each book has been modified, corrected, added to, and passed down through the generations to accumulate its own unique history. The secrets behind these very special recipes are about to find their way into new hands and new lives, just when they’re needed the most.

Food created out of love casts a spell all its own, but Granny B’s recipes add a little something extra. Thiscurious cookbook holds not only delicious food, but also the secrets of love, trust, and healing, and it’s about to work its magic once again.

* * * * *

My story... For a Rainy Afternoon

Robbie MacIntyre runs a small Post Office made from a converted Station House in a village northwest of London. He is stunned when a close friend leaves him the property as an inheritance after her death.

She owned the shop and has left everything to him. Not only that but she has left the place she lived, Apple Tree Cottage, to an American - a stranger who has recently moved to Barton Hartshourn.

The sealed box that they inherit includes several rare first editions and a cookery book. Only when the secrets of the ingredients in a particular recipe are finally revealed does everything begin to make sense... and a love story that began seventy years ago is finally uncovered.

Celebrating 75 books...

Celebrating 75 books...

Competition on Facebook today... Today I realised that my current WIP, Max & The Prince, is my seventy-fifth story... so I decided to run a quick competition over on FB to win free ebooks from me... go see... :)


Cover Art Reveal

Cover Art Reveal

Received new cover art for The Summer House (see below!) from the wonderful Meredith Russell. A book set in the beautiful Cotswolds, around an hour from my house! Stunning cover for book 1 - more details to follow and coming to an e-reader near you 29 May! [Add to Goodreads]


Ashby Sebastian Sterling-Haynes has had a lot of boyfriends, but he's never found the one.

The only person he can form an attachment to is his fourteen year old niece, and even that is in jeopardy when babysitting her cat goes all kinds of wrong.

Veterinarian, Connor Lawson is much happier working with animals than with people. He has deliberately returned home and to the Summer House he recalled from childhood holidays for peace and quiet and the chance to heal from wounds no one would ever see.

When his next door neighbor comes into the practice with a cat that has been in a fight he hides in his office because this Ashby guy is all kinds of dangerous. Too hot, too rich, too titled, and way too sexy for his own good.

Can two men who refuse to believe in love ever learn that love is the easy part of the journey to forever?

Out Now, Coming Soon and posts you may have missed

Eoin's Destiny (Fire #3)

Eoin's Destiny (Fire #3)

Cover Art by Meredith Russell

The Book

Eoin is faced with the end of times.

With his friends at his side, can he rescue the prisoner that might hold the secrets to winning the battle between Cariad and City as well as the key to his heart?

His bond brothers, Kian and Darach, probably hate him for his necessary lie, two-thirds of the Council wants him dead, and the prisoner’s amber Fire is killing them both.

The third book in the Fire Trilogy discovers more old Guardians, ancient Cariad magik, and not least of all the other half of Eoin: Trystyn.

Fire Series

Book 1 - Kian's Hunter
Book 2 - Darach's Cariad
Book 3 - Eoin's Destiny

Buy Links

Amazon (US) | Amazon (UK) | All Romance | B&N | Kobo | Smashwords | iTunes


Reviews

Rainbow Gold Reviews - 9.5/10 - "....Another fantastic book with a good storyline and a great plot. I was very impressed at how this book finally played out. This has to be my favourite book in the series. I loved the chemistry between Eoin and Trystyn. The six together are stronger than they realise.

This series will give you an insight into another world that runs parallel to ours… As we switch between worlds, we see the magik of the fire get stronger. I would recommend this series to all those that love a bit of magic in the books they read…."

Bike Book Reviews - 5/5 -  "....I am very happy to report that Eoin's Destiny lives up to my high expectations of this series set by books 1&2! I was enraptured with Eoin when we officially met him in book 2, this book is about accepting who you were meant to be, and righting old wrongs, and of course finding the man that will make this wonderful, lonely man complete!..."

Rainbow Book Reviews - "....This third and final volume in the exciting ‘Fire’ trilogy is as cataclysmic as I expected, yet it is also the touching story of the missing third blood-brother, Eoin, and the man he knows he is bonded to, Trystyn. But bonding is not as easy as it sounds, because they both have amber Fire, and there are dire predictions about what happens if two ambers ever bond. The end of times, as Eoin keeps calling it, may be upon them, and while all is definitely not as it seems, this provided a great setting for the adventure, excitement, and action that follow. A truly wonderful conclusion to the series!..."

Gay List Book Reviews - "....An engaging trilogy that I very much enjoyed. The men are all hot and their love is deep with their bond and fire. The magik and world building is fascinating. I liked the parallel world aspect and thought it made the story more original.

Recommended for all of those who like magic, prophetic quests and their men sexy and sweet...."


Excerpt

Chapter 1

Ceithin paced the cabin floor, sparks of red in a flurry of motion around him. Guardian or not, Eoin had no idea what he could say to make any of this any better for his friend Darach's lover. Ceithin probably thought the minute they passed through the gate Trystyn would be there waiting for them. It was made even more difficult because he couldn't get a firm reading on much at all because of Demon imprints. The Demons teemed in the Otherworld. Hundreds of years ago, adults with magik fought against the Cariad and the City and passed to the Otherworld. The only way for these adults to survive in the new world was to leech emotions from the inhabitants. There were so many of them, and now their imprints clouded his view.

"I don't know where he is." Eoin emphasized the 'where' firmly. If they were to have any chance of finding Ceithin's brother then they needed level heads. That was one thing in short supply. Darach wasn't even in the cabin. As soon as they passed through the gate, he had stalked away from them, his temper heated and heavy in him. Eoin could see Ceithin was torn between following his bonded Fire or staying to question Eoin as to what the hell was going on.

The passing over itself had been easy. Ceithin and Darach had held hands, and it had taken very little of Eoin's amber Fire to make the transition as smooth as it could be. They arrived at the cabin and found the wards in place. Each of them could sense where Kian had been, and another, who Eoin assumed was the Hunter. But there was no sign of anyone now. Nothing.

"You said he was here," Ceithin said for possibly the third or fourth time.

"You need to give me time," Eoin said softly. Deliberately, he lowered his voice and pushed as much concerned understanding into it as he could.

"Don't patronize me," Ceithin snapped. He crossed to the window and looked out at the tangle of forest. "You said there was someone here. A prisoner. It's Trystyn. I know it is."

"I'm not trying to patronize you. Please, Ceithin, if it's Trystyn then I swear we will find him. If it isn't Trystyn, it's still someone from our world who's being used. One way or another, we will find that person."

"It's Trystyn. I can feel him." Ceithin was adamant, and Eoin didn't argue. "The connection between us… it's like the connection between Darach and I." He placed a hand over his chest where his heart was. "It's him."

"Your connection to Darach is strong," Eoin commented for want of something better to say.

Ceithin turned to face Eoin abruptly. "How could you hurt Darach and Kian like that?" Clearly the subject was being changed, and Eoin could see the distrust and anger in Ceithin's eyes. The bond between Ceithin and Darach was so new Eoin could see sparks of Darach's blue in Ceithin's eyes. Eoin could dissemble, could ask what Ceithin meant as if he didn't know. But it would be a waste of everyone's time.

"You mean not tell Darach I was the Guardian?"

"For a start, yeah. I mean that's a pretty big one. But let's get to it after. I mean how in Hell could you let them think you were dead?"

"I had to."

"It broke his heart." Ceithin's statement hung in the air with a sense of finality. Eoin didn't even try to answer. He didn't really have one that would make any sense to anyone. He just immediately knew any conversation about what he had done and why would have to be with Darach, not with the Cariad who had bonded with his friend.

"I need to talk to him about what I did and why," he finally offered gently.

Ceithin sighed and gestured to the space beyond the dusty glass. "Then go talk to him."

"We need to find Kian, track down the person who—"

"None of it will start until we get this sorted." Ceithin clenched his fists across his chest, right over his heart, and blue Fire sparked on his fingers. "He's hurting. Nothing we decide now will make any sense unless you help him stop hurting."

"How am I…" Eoin had no words to finish the thought. Ceithin leaned back against the wooden wall and dropped his hands to his side. He shrugged, and Eoin felt a momentary disappointment that someone else didn't have the answers for him. Nodding, he knew Ceithin was right.

In the space between heartbeats, Eoin took the first step to the door. In a minute he was out in the cool mountain air, the cloudless sky like the blue of Darach's eyes. Shame and guilt and grief curled inside him, and he stopped exactly in the middle of the small clearing. He could sense Darach and see his pathway in a scatter of embers, both red and blue. The anger in his friend, his blood brother, was intense, and for a moment, Eoin wished it was level-headed Kian he was dealing with, not Darach with his impetuous nature.

"Did Ceithin send you out here?" Darach's voice dripped with temper, and blue sparked around him.

"He said it was probably the best thing to get this out of the way first," Eoin admitted. He didn't even see the fist fly, not even his Fire sensed the snap of passion in time to erect a barrier. The crack of Darach's knuckles against his cheekbone was loud in the otherwise quiet forest. Eoin stumbled back, his Fire a delayed shield, and he held up his hands in protest. Darach did nothing. He made no move to hit him again or even to step forward into Eoin's space.

"Get it out of the way first?" Darach spat with venom. "Get it out of the way?" When he repeated the words, Eoin winced.

"If we are to track down Kian and—"

"Don't. Just. Don't." Darach spun on his heels, stalked off to the trees, and in an instant, he was gone. Eoin sighed. Darach had every right to feel angry, but equally he expected his friend to be able to listen to why he had done it.

"Darach! Wait." He strode after his friend, sensing the other man only a few trees in front of him. Eoin quickly caught him and held his hands out in front of himself in a gesture of peace.

"I didn't want to let you believe I was dead." He stopped when Darach's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Wait, you think I would choose to do that?"

"Didn't you?"

"No. That isn't what happened at all."

"Then what exactly did happen, Eoin?"

"The Fire. When it came, it was intense." He stopped, suddenly weary, and he leaned back against the nearest tree. Carefully he used the trunk to lower himself to sit. "Will you sit down?" Darach frowned, but clearly he was in this for the long haul, and he too sat on the dry ground.

"Go on," Darach encouraged. Although Darach's expression showed very little in the way of welcome, nor indeed any compassion, at least he sat here listening.

"Amber is a special Fire and is very rare. There are maybe one or two children born each year with it. You know that. It's the strongest of the Fires." Eoin half smiled. Saying this brought back so many memories of teasing Darach and Kian when they were children. He was not only the eldest of the three, but he also teased that he had the best Fire. It seemed Darach had remembered the same thing, and for an instant, a smile quirked his lips, before being replaced by the condemnation. "Every child who has amber knows that one day, if they live, they will need to find a useful way to use their Fire, with the Council maybe. It's so rare though that a juvenile survives, and you know when some juveniles reach maturity and their Fire is born, they die."

"I know. Like you."

"They don't die, Darach." His voice was carefully modulated, and he could feel the shock in his friend before Darach said a single word. The fact the children appeared to always die was nothing but a cloak.

"We saw you die," Darach protested. He touched a single finger to his own face, a mirror of the scars Eoin had twisting down the side of his face to his neck. "It was horrific. I saw you burn."

Eoin nodded. "The Fire is real. It burns so hot, and the scars…" He touched them and then rested his hand back on his knee. "But the Council takes the child from the Fire. Sometimes it's too late to save him or to keep him unmarked."

"Were they able to control your pain?" Darach leaned forward, his eyes suspiciously bright.

Eoin wanted to lie. Every fiber in him wanted to make it easier to tell this story. He couldn't. "It was horrific," he began softly, "but somehow they dragged me free, magiked me away, I don't know. All I know is I woke up, and I was in the library."

"In the City?"

"The old library, in the rooms only the Council sees, and they were there."

"Did they explain what was going on?" Impatience filled his friend's voice, the whole cut-to-the-chase tone was doing nothing for his nerves.

"Darach, please, I'm trying here." Suddenly overwhelmed with everything in his head, he drew his knees up and wrapped his hands around them. "Can you just listen?" He tried to keep his voice level but could hear the misery in it. With a huff Darach relaxed back and gestured for Eoin to continue.

"The members of the Council are dying; all three are very old men. Human skin and bones decay as much as anything, but Fire can prolong life. It was simple. If they could track down amber Fire, they could use it, drain it, I don't know." He leaned his head on his knees briefly and then raised it to look at his friend. "All three of them we know—Ephraim, Sulien and Madoc—are at the end of their time. People like us thought the Guardian was the one who led the Council, but it was the other way around. Where we thought a man with the strongest amber Fire of that generation should become the Guardian and be there to govern and guide the Council, in fact, the old Guardian was being drained to keep the Council alive. I was left to heal in the library and I took to researching. Then it happened." He paused again. He wished he had brought out some water as his mouth was dry and forming actual words was hard. "Madoc came for me, the oldest and probably the strongest in the Council. He told me about what the Council did to the old Guardian, Wynn, and about the Otherworld, the prophecies, everything."

"What did they do to this Wynn?"

"Stole nearly all his Fire and magik, I don't know. All I know is he had amber fire, and it was time for the Council to change hands. It was Wynn's time to be one of three in a new Council, but no one was entirely sure whom he would be replacing. Sulien and Ephraim did not want to die."

"And Madoc?"

"Madoc trusted and helped Wynn, assisted him in moving to this world through the gate. The Guardian had promised Madoc he would live in peace and not seek revenge on the Council who had wronged him. This was so many years ago. He's trusting me to finish everything now."

"Finish what?"

"Wynn didn't keep his promise. Madoc and I think it is his intention to bring an army back to our world from this one. He has a prisoner, a boy from our world with amber Fire. He's using that child's energy to build his army, taking his hatred of the Council back to our world to rule in the Council's place."

"Uh huh. That sounds like a far reach." Darach looked thoughtful.

"There's rot in our world, Darach. So much fear and it all comes from a Council in decay. Anyone with any strength could take over the Council, have access to ancient magik, and steal Cariad magik. We wouldn't have a choice in this. It would be a rule of fear."

"And you're the only person who can stop this?"

Eoin hesitated. He wondered how far he should take this—how much he should reveal. "And Kian."

Darach nodded, and Eoin's heart turned. Darach never failed to think it was level-headed Kian who was important, but was it right to place so much on Darach by telling him he was one of the three who could stop the rot from spreading?

"Is this linked to why Kian chased after the one who stole his uncle's Fire? Did Kian know you were alive?" Shock filtered through Darach's words, and it was enough for Eoin to decide Darach needed to know it all.

"Kian didn't know. I promise you. The Danio was just another result of the disease spread by greed, jealousy, and lack of control over Fire. We need to try and stop it."

"You and Kian."

"No. Not just us. You as well, Darach."

"Me?"

"Only together can we fix all of this."

"Now you're talking rubbish. Do I look stupid? I'm not some soldier, or even really that clever with Fire."

"That is a lie, Darach. Your Fire is strong in you; it always has been. Look, I don't care if you hate me, or that you want to knock me out, but Madoc trusts me with something far bigger than all of us."

"He trusts you won't go off using your Fire for bad?" Darach said with a flourish and Eoin hung his head again.

Darach was not getting this.

"No. Madoc warned me in time. Instead of the remainder of the Council finding a weak child to manipulate, they found me. Not only is my Fire strong, it is reinforced by the blood-bond I have with you and Kian. I'm capable of being a strong Guardian." Great, now he probably sounded as if he was grandstanding. Darach said nothing. He didn't even smile the wry smile he. "So there I am, healed, but scarred, and stronger than the Council. Suddenly I can do something about things that happened in the past. Stop Wynn from causing chaos in this world and back home. Rescue this child who has the amber Fire. Go home and restore peace."

"So. You, me and Kian. Easy then. Just like old times." There it was. The gentle humor Darach did so well. Eoin felt a weight lift from his heart.

"I want you to know I had no choice, Darach. I had to stay as Guardian. Had to stay dead. I wanted to tell you both every day."

"Okay."

Darach didn't sound convinced and Eoin pressed on. "I watched you both. I saw Kian receive his Fire, I saw him with the Cariad and then crossing to this world. I saw you in the prison talking to Ceithin. I helped you," Eoin added the last part softly.

"Helped me how?"

"I watched out for you in the prison, made sure no one touched you. You needed to find your Cariad."

"All that time…" Darach sounded do damned sad. "We mourned you. I mourned you. Then Kian left, and I was on my own. The last one." He was fingering the small scar each boy had on their left hands, probably reliving memories of a summer day and the blood bond three ten-year-old boys had made in the long grass outside the City.

"I am so sorry," Eoin said finally. There, he had said it. In reality he could say little else.

"That's enough." Darach's voice was more even, and he pushed himself to stand. He held out a hand to help Eoin rise, and Eoin took it gratefully. When they stood, close together, it was Darach who pulled Eoin in for a hug. They held each other tight. Darach spoke when they parted.

"Why couldn't you have an easy Fire like red, green or blue?"