FREE Gay Excerpt: The Governor’s Gay Husband
Here’s an excerpt from my newest unpublished novel, The Governor’s Gay Husband, that I will be releasing sometime next month. It’s a gay romance with erotica, and it tells the story of an ambitious young openly gay politician who’s running for governor, and who also falls in love at the same time. The politician’s name is Gordon, and the guy he falls in love with is Paul. Everything would normally be fine, except for one factor: Paul absolutely despises politics, he despises public attention, he can’t stand the media, and he’s not too thrilled about Gordon actually becoming the first openly gay governor of his state. But in spite of all the complications, Paul loves Gordon deeply and he’s not ready to give him up yet.
There’s also one more minor complication: Paul is terrified of anal sex and he’s determined to overcome that fear.
With that said, here’s an excerpt at the bottom of this post from the chapter where Paul meets Gordon’s mom for the first time.
When Gay Couples Are Asked Which One Is The Man and Which One Is the Woman?
Here’s one of those ridiculous questions that gay couples have had to deal with since the beginning of time. It really shows how little some straight people know about gay men, and about gay culture in general. It’s also insulting to non-gay people. Most straight married couples I know share all responsibilities these days, from basic housework to making money.
It’s a question many get asked at one point or another, usually by people who can’t see past gender norms: “Which one of you is the man, and which one of you is the woman?” But how should one respond?
You can check it out, here. The replies are from one of those Reddit threads. It really does cover more than just gay stereotypes.
Excerpt: The Governor’s Gay Husband
The only one who didn’t come running over to greet us was Gordon’s mother. I didn’t mention it aloud, but Gordon must have noticed. He looked around and asked his sister, “Where is she?”
Gordon and his sister, Bella, didn’t look alike either. She was a thin little spike, with straight blond hair down to her shoulders and delicate features. Bella pointed to the far end of the blue stone patio and said, “She’s in the conservatory checking out her beloved spider plants. We all know she’s really waiting for you to come get her.”
“I suppose I’ll have to go over there,” he said.
Bella laughed. “It’s the only way.”
Then Bella took off in the other direction and I grabbed Gordon’s arm and asked, “What’s wrong?”
He smiled. “Oh, it’s nothing. This is normal. My mother never greets anyone. She makes sure they come and greet her. It’s one of her control tactics. She likes to hold court.”
“Then let’s go,” I said. Now I was even more curious than ever about his mother. I was also prepared. After years of working in retail from the ground floor up, I knew how to handle people. “I don’t want to keep your mother waiting.” I figured I was the outsider intruding on her space and it really was up to me to make a good first impression.
We turned right and he placed his palm on the small of my back and led me to the other side of the house, beyond a tall row of junipers, toward one of those classic white English conservatories. This one was attached to the back of the house with glass on 3 sides. I’d always wanted a conservatory at my house, but the Edwardian architecture wouldn’t have worked well with it. This is why I’d opted for an outdoor living space instead. Although I have to admit that when I glanced at this conservatory I gaped and said, “This is a wonderful room.”
“It’s my mother’s favorite room in the house,” Gordon said. “She spends a good deal of time here cultivating her spider plants. She’s very dedicated to spider plants. She’s won awards.”
As we crossed to the side entrance of the conservatory, he opened the door for me so I could step inside first. As I glanced in every direction, from the glass ceiling to the blue stone floor, all I saw were spider plants. Some were massive and others small. Some were hanging and others were placed on elegant white wrought iron stands. There were white urns filled with spider plants, shelves stacked with spider plants, and there was a koi pond in the middle of the conservatory surrounded by more spider plants. Almost all of them had new shoots with spikes of baby spider plants flowing over the sides in arcs. There didn’t seem to be any other plant species in the entire conservatory.
Gordon followed me inside and called for his mother in a soft voice. “We’re here. I’d like you to meet Paul.”
While I was still glancing around the room, a thin woman who stood about 5 feet 5 inches tall stepped out from behind a tall group of spider plants near the koi pond. She had flaming light red hair, deep blue eyes, and she wore white slacks and a white sweater over a white camisole. Her red hair was short on the sides and back, but tall and full on the top, as if she set it in rollers every night. It was neat, but not too stiff and fussy looking. I couldn’t help but notice the way her bright red lips matched her long red fingernails. And yet she wasn’t wearing too much make-up.
I also noticed that after she stepped out from behind the pond she stood still and extended her arms. She clearly was not going to walk over to us. It was our job to walk over to her.
Gordon set his palm on my back again and we slowly crossed to the other side of the room. Gordon gave her a hug and a kiss on the cheek, and then he stepped back and introduced me to her as his boyfriend.
I smiled and reached out to shake her hand. “It’s very nice to meet you, Mrs. Stark. Gordon has told me so much about you.” He hadn’t said much at all, but I couldn’t say that.
She sent Gordon a look, and then she gazed at me and smiled. “Well he’s told me a little about you, but it’s nice to finally meet you in person.”
While Gordon just stood there looking guilty uncomfortable, I gestured to the plants and said, “I’ve never seen anything more wonderful than this conservatory. I’ve always loved spider plants. I have a big old house with white porches and when I was a child my mom used to hang spider plants all around the house in the warmer months. I haven’t seen one in years, and I’d almost forgotten how much I love them. I used to love the look it gave my house in the summertime, almost as if it was located somewhere in the tropics.”
“Was your mother Elizabeth John?” she asked. “And you live in the old John Mansion in town?”
“Yes, did you know her?”
“I remember her,” she said. “We didn’t know each other well, but when Gordon mentioned your name and told me where you live I instantly remembered her. I was sorry to hear about her passing.”
“I’d heard that you were caring for both your parents right up until the end. That’s highly commendable.”
I shrugged. “I just did what I had to do, and I’m glad I got the share that experience with them both.”
“I’ll make sure you get a spider plant to take home before you leave today.”
“I would love that.” I was telling the truth, too. The only reason I never had more plants around the house was because I never made time to do it. I’ve always been drawn to extremes. I loved the idea that she was so focused on one plant in particular. Although everything was clean and organized in the conservatory, it almost looked as if she was hoarding spider plants.
As she opened her mouth to speak, I heard this odd creaking noise. It sounded as though someone was trying to open an old wooden door with rusted hinges. I heard the sound again and I looked around because there were no old doors in sight.
Then Mrs. Stark set her gaze on a small white Victorian chair in between two white urns with spider plants and said, “Sharky, there you are. Be a good boy now. We have a guest.”
I turned and glanced at the chair and saw the most adorable little Chihuahua looking up at me. I heard the creaking sound again and realized he was growling, so I leaned over, picked him up fast, and said, “You’re the most adorable little dog I’ve ever seen.” He was black and white, with large brown eyes. I couldn’t resist holding him.
Gordon shouted, “No.”
Mrs. Stark said, “Don’t pick him up whatever you do.”
“Well I’m afraid it’s too late for that now,” I said. I was already holding him in my arms, pressed up against my chest, and he was licking my nose. “Don’t worry about him. I won’t drop him. I grew up with a black and white Chihuahua just like him. He belonged to my grandfather. I always wanted another dog but my mom and dad didn’t want me to get one. My mom always had a morbid fear of animals. When she was a child she was bitten by a dog and she never got over her fear. So I was never allowed to have a dog or a cat in the house. The only reason we had the Chihuahua was because he was my grandfather’s dog, and even then he was too old for me to play with. He died when I was about 5 years old.”
While Sharky continued to lick my face, Gordon shook his head. “I can’t believe it.”
Mrs. Stark shook her head. “I’m stunned.”
“What?” I asked.
“We’re not worried about you dropping him,” Gordon said. “We’re worried about him biting you. He’s one of the nastiest little dogs I’ve ever met. The only person he likes in the family is my mother. I can’t even pick him up.”
I just shrugged. “Well he seems to like me. I’ve never met a friendlier or sweeter little dog.” I kissed Sharky’s head. “Isn’t that right, Sharky?”
Mrs. Stark had been watching Sharky lick my face without saying much. “Well, I’m not totally surprised. Sharky just likes certain people. He’s very smart and he knows who he can trust. You obviously have a way with him.”
The door to the conservatory opened and one of the children stormed in and called for Gordon. “When are you coming out to play with me? You promised we were going to play catch.”
Gordon patted the top of his head and said, “I’ll be right out. You go out there and wait for me. I’ll be there in a minute.”
As the child ran back outside, Mrs. Stark said, “Gordon, you said you were going to play Bolivia with me. You promised. We haven’t played in months.”
“I’m sorry,” Gordon said. “I did promise him I’d play catch, and it is his birthday. I don’t see him that often and I can’t let him down.”
Mrs. Stark looked down at the floor and frowned. “I suppose not. You’ve been so busy these past months I guess I should get used to it.”
She appeared so crestfallen I had to say something. “Are you talking about the card game, Bolivia?”
She looked up fast and said, “Yes. Why do you ask?”
Gordon laughed. “My mother is addicted to cards. She’ll pay anything from Canasta to Poker, and even Bridge. But Bolivia is her real passion. She even carries cards with her at all times in her purse.”
Mrs. Stark sighed. “Unfortunately, the only one in the family who can play cards is Gordon, and even he’s really not very good at it.”
“Well I’ll play with you,” I said. “Before my grandfather died he taught me every card game there is. I know Bolivia very well. That’s one of the first games I ever learned.”
She pressed her palm to her chest. “Youknow how to play Bolivia?”
I nodded. “Of course I do.”
She leaned forward. “How about canasta?”
“Sure. I’ve been playing canasta all my life. I like to get all the red 3s.”
All at once she stood up straight and her head went high. She flashed me a smile and waved her arm at Gordon. “You go play catch with your nephew, dear. Paul and I are going to sit down outside at the table and play Bolivia.”
Gordon glanced at me. “Do you mind?”
“Of course I don’t mind,” I said, meaning every word. “I haven’t played a good game of cards, especially Bolivia, since my dad passed away.”
Mrs. Stark grabbed her white purse from a white iron table beside the pond and looped her arm through mine and we started walking to the door. As we left Gordon standing there, she said, “We’ll be playing cards, dear. Let us know when it’s time to eat.” Then she patted my arm and said, “Please call me Dolores from now on. Mrs. Stark is way too formal. We can put Sharky down outside. He likes to rest beneath the table in the shade.”
I sent Gordon a backward glance and smiled. He stood there with his hands in his pockets watching Dolores steer me and Sharky outside to play cards. I couldn’t believe how wrong he’d been about Dolores. She didn’t seem pushy or controlling to me. She didn’t seem mean or vindictive. She seemed honest and forthright: a no nonsense kind of woman. She also seemed like a lot of fun and I couldn’t wait to play cards with her.
We wound up playing Bolivia for the rest of the afternoon, well into the evening, and right up until midnight when Gordon had to come and tell us that he had to go back to his cottage and get some sleep because he had a campaign event in the morning and he had to get up at 5 am. We’d just finished the last hand and Dolores was still shuffling the cards. She was ready for a new game, and she would have played another game if Gordon hadn’t come over.
I didn’t even realize it was that late, so I stood up and said, “I suppose you’re right. I didn’t even get a chance to see where you live, Gordon.” I felt a little guilty about playing cards all day and missing most of the party. But no one else seemed to mind. Gordon’s sister actually came over at one point and thanked me for bringing the baked goods and the gift, but mostly for keeping her mother busy all day. From what little I observed that day, Gordon’s sister didn’t get along well with Dolores, and neither did her Republican husband. I didn’t totally understand that either. I’d never met a nicer, friendlier woman in my life and I had more fun that afternoon with Dolores than I’d had in ages. Playing Bolivia was the best stress relief I’d had in ages, too.
Dolores set the cards down and stood up. “I suppose it is getting late.”
“We’ll play again soon,” I said. “I had a very nice day. I enjoyed this, and I think I needed an afternoon like this. Thank you for having me.”
She smiled and said, “You never have to thank me. You can come over any time you want, sweetheart. You are always welcome here.” She stepped back and looked up at Gordon. “Now don’t ruin this, Gordon. I like him. He’s like family already.”
Gordon reached out and hugged her. “I’ll do my best, mom. I promise.”
After that, Dolores gave me a small spider plant to take home and I kissed her and Sharky goodbye. I said goodnight to Gordon’s dad, his sister, and brother-in-law. They were the only ones left. Everyone else had gone home hours ago and the kids were in bed. Gordon walked me back to my car and he held me before I opened the door. He kissed me so hard I fell back against the window and reached for his shoulder so I wouldn’t fall over sideways and drop the spider plant. A minute after that, as he stood in the driveway watching me disappear in the distance, I thought about what a nice day it had been and how I felt about Gordon. I knew that night I was in love with him and there was no way to ignore this.
There were only two things standing in my way, and one of them was my dislike of politics and the other was fear of having anal sex. I knew there was nothing I could do about the politics end of this relationship. Gordon was too excited about running for governor and I wasn’t going to be the one to crush his dream. There was, however, something I could so about the sex in this relationship and I vowed then and there I would conquer my fear of anal sex. If I had to bite on a pillow and grasp the sheets, I would learn how to be a good gay bottom.