For upcoming release, “Something for Saint Jude,” I wanted to post something ahead of time in case I forget. It seems that something new comes up all the time and I often wind up posting more about other things than I do my own fiction.
“Something for Saint Jude” is a short story…8,000 words…, it’s set in both Wyoming and on a cruise ship (one of those gay cruise ships), and it’s about two people from the same small town who wind up falling in love on vacation. It’s being published by Loveyoudivine.com, as are most of my other short stories. And the release date is set for July 13, 2012.
It’s a gay erotic romance with an adorable geek and a big strong cowboy. The story is there, the love is there, and so is the sex. There is one scene where the two main characters explore voyeurism that I found fascinating to write.
The cover art was created by Dawne Dominique, who has been doing most of my covers for the past five years at least. She’s also done the covers for my two self-published novels on Amazon this past year.
Here’s a blurb:
Jude Franklin lives a quiet conservative life in a small town in Wyoming. He’s head librarian, lives at home with his aging mother, and is terrified he’ll wind up like his spinster aunt…”Poor Patty Ann.” Though it’s too late for Jude to be considered a virgin, he doesn’t want to spend the rest of his life alone. The trouble is the one guy in town he’s attracted to is a handsome young library patron who also happens to work on a ranch on the edge of town. Only Jude knows he can’t have him, so he makes a drastic move and books a summer vacation on one of those gay cruise ships he’s read about millions of times. Little did he know love was waiting for him in the most unusual place, and he had to travel halfway around the world to figure it out.
Here’s an excerpt:
Jude Franklin went to church services on Sunday mornings and played the violin in a small chamber group every Thursday evening. He met with his fellow birdwatchers on the third Wednesday of every month at the community college, where he parked his Dodge beneath the same oak tree in visitor parking.
Though he was on the wrong side of thirty years old, he still lived at home with his aging mother, a frail slip of a woman who spent most of her time in a Bentwood rocker knitting things no one would ever use. His dark pine bed was the same twin sleeper he’d slept in since his tenth birthday, with the same dreary beige coverlet and doomed white sheets. Every now and then he’d replace a dog-eared copy of a gay porn magazine with the newer release. He kept them hidden between old childhood comic books in a hope chest that rested at the foot of the narrow bed. He knew he needed to learn how to navigate the Internet better so he wouldn’t have to deal with magazines. It was getting harder to find them.
He worked as a librarian in a small town in Wyoming. His shirts were white button downs and his bow-ties dark solids. His slacks were either brown or gray or navy, usually a heavy wool or tweedy material, and always pressed and creased to perfection with a sharp line down the front and back. He wore either black or brown oxfords with round toes and chunky heels; at the end of his small nose fell black eyeglass frames that were thick and dated. To say he stood out in a town filled with men wearing cowboy hats and boots would have been an understatement.
But more than all this, Jude was a soaring, handsome man, with a lean swimmer’s body and a head of golden hair. And even though his slacks were as dreary as pond waters, his firm round buttocks turned more than a few heads when he walked down the street. He had the kind of perfect ass that made even straight cowboys stop and glance when no one was looking.
All this furtive attention usually passed Jude by. He knew men and women were attracted to him, but he wasn’t attracted to them. The only guy in town that made his heart beat faster didn’t even know he existed. This young guy had no idea that Jude came unhinged just standing next to him.
His name was Ricky Lorne and he came into the library on a regular basis. This handsome voracious reader of mystery novels stopped by two or three times a week, usually when Jude was working out front. He always removed his cowboy hat when he came inside. He wiped his cowboy boots on a mat at the entrance to make sure he wouldn’t track any mud inside. Though Jude always became too flustered to speak at length in Ricky’s presence, he assumed that Ricky either stopped by on his way to work, or on his way home to return or check out his books. Jude had overheard one of the young female library volunteers once mention to a girlfriend that Ricky worked as a cowboy on a ranch on the outskirts of town, and then they whispered something and giggled. Jude glared at them, glanced down at their muffin tops, and sent them to the non-fiction shelves to sort by author.