Kade Boehme's Blog, page 7

We Found Love: Snippet Saturday

Heya guys!

So I give up. Haha. I keep doing it early so we'll just call this Snippet Saturday. Only two more rounds to go before the release on Monday, January 5. My birthday is that Tuesday... er. But I get less excited about that as we get closer. But I'm still super stoked for you guys to read Hunter & Riley's story.

Okay. So here's the deal. This week's snippet, unlike the others, is just a snippet. I had to stop with all the effing excerpts, haha. This is a hard part of the book we've gotten to. These guys met in a mental hospital, but obviously no one would believe in their HEA, they wouldn't have had an HEA if life had continued as it was. They're moving to the part of the story where they have to be apart and do some growing on their own, because they desperately need it, hoping to come back together and be better for each other in the end while fearing they never will. This is part of a larger couple of chapters that I felt was one of the most heartbreaking parts of writing this book, while also being beautiful because I got to grow with them. Ugh. So here's a bit from there.







Please take me with you.





That's it for this week. The next week's will be the last before release day! After all these months (finished writing this in June!) I am so ready for Riley and Hunter to be out there for everyone to see. I'll probably always be more proud of this book than most I've written. Anywho. Thanks if you stuck around til now. You can pre-order at Dreamspinner Press [Click Here] . They've got some great holiday sales going on right now so it's the perfect time!
<3kaderade

Dreamspinner Press  |  GoodReads  |  AReComing January 5, 2015!Pre-Order Available Now!

We Found Love: Snippet Sunday 2

We Found Love  (which is available for [Pre-Order] now, releasing from Dreamspinner Press January 5) Snippet Sunday time again guys! And again, this one is kinda long. This part of the story is right after Hunter and Riley have gone on their first "date" in their secret ward of the hospital. We meet a new friend, who's going to help shape our boys a lot through the course of the story. Poor Bubba. I adored this character, probably moved more by him than any of my other secondaries. He was just such a good soul. Anyways... so this is a fun moment where we also get to see Riley's jealousy pop up for the first time, too, defensive little bastard. Hope you guys enjoy!

As Hunter took his seat and opened the container to study its contents—a dry-looking hamburger with no condiments, yay—he heard the booming voice of the orderly who’d broken up Riley and Big Hispanic Guy’s fight.

“You gonna behave, or I gotta stand in here over you, Willby?” He was holding Bubba the Newbie by the arm.

“You got it, Big Boy,” Bubba said, saluting the orderly. The orderly grunted and released his arm, telling him to go get his tray and shut up.

After Bubba had retrieved his food, he spotted Hunter and gave a smartass smile. Hunter just shook his head, already feeling amused exasperation as the guy strutted his way. “Yo, you helped me stay out of restraints.”

“Did I now?”

“I was just about to start kicking when you told me to calm my tits.”

Hunter laughed. “That’s me. Jiminy Fucking Cricket.”

“Well, Jiminy, this seat taken?” He didn’t wait for a response before plopping down in the chair directly across from Hunter at the table.

“By all means, Bubba.”

“It’s Shane, actually.”

“Like I said, Bubba.”

Bubba laughed, a loud belly laugh that was totally out of place in the cold, sterile halls of the hospital. “I like you, Jim.”

“It’s Hunter.”

He gave Hunter a pointed look, still smiling. “Like I said, Jim, formerly known as Jiminy Fucking Cricket. So what you in for?” He was drumming his hands on the table, eyes starting to dart around the room, not nervously but unable to focus on one thing.

Avoiding the question, Hunter said, “I didn’t know they locked people up for ADHD.”

Bubba snorted, giving Hunter a smirk. “Manic, buddy. I got a little bipolar problem.”

“A little one?”

“Well, more a problem staying on the meds.”

“So you like being all…. Hyped up?” Hunter wanted to laugh when Bubba turned his head sideways, confusion like the big dumb dog he was crossing his face.

“Of course. Who wants to be a pill zombie?”

“Never bothered me all that much.”

“Ah. A D and A boy?”

“Among other things, apparently,” Hunter said vaguely, taking a bite of his hamburger. Bubba snorted and sped up his drumming on the table, almost banging.

Hunter stared irritably at the quickly moving hands until they stopped. Bubba smirked, which seemed to be one of his favorite expressions. “Sorry. Gotta get it out somehow.”

“You sure you don’t want to take those meds?” Please. Oh, my God.The energy was fun, but Hunter hated banging and tapping. It made him twitch. If Bubba was going to be doing it all the time, like Humming Man, he wasn’t sure he’d make it without throwing shit at him all the time.

Bubba just laughed, though. “I like you, Jim.”

“It’s my lucky day,” Hunter said drily, earning another guffaw from Bubba. Okay, so the guy was all right. In a hyperactive, straight jock kinda way.

“Hey.” Bubba’s head tilted in that confused way again. “Don’t I know you from somewhere?”

Hunter’s head snapped back. No, surely not. He’d remember someone this excitable. Certainly he’d remember someone, even a straight boy, who looked like that. “I don’t think so.”

Bubba drummed his fingers—on his chin this time, thankfully—thinking so hard it looked like smoke would come out of his poor ears at some point.

“Don’t overdo it, man. I can hear rusty bolts trying to break in there.”

Bubba’s eyes widened before he snapped his fingers and pointed, bouncing in his seat. “Dude! Hunter Morgan?”

Hunter eyed Bubba warily. “Uh, yeah.”

“Dude!” He said it louder than he needed.

“Calm down, man,” Hunter hissed. “You’re gonna get us both sent to our rooms.”

Bubba settled… as much as he could, anyway. “You’re Travis Morgan’s little brother.”

Hunter frowned. “How….”

“You fixed my Camaro last summer. Did a damn good job.”

“Oh. Did we meet?”

“Yeah, man. You were blitzed. Your brother looked pissed. I graduated with him, though, so when he promised you did good work I threw the work your way. You rocked it hard. That baby hasn’t run that well since I’ve owned it.”

“Oh.” Hunter blushed. He knew he’d learned his shit, though he had been an ass about working at his brother’s shop at first. He’d never been complimented, though. He smiled at Bubba. “Glad it worked out.”

“No shit. Small world, huh?”

“No doubt,” Hunter said on a snorted laugh.

A movement from the corner of his eye caught Hunter’s attention. Riley stood in the doorway with his tray of food, glaring daggers at Hunter and his companion. Hunter kept smiling, waving at Riley. Riley scowled, passed his food to the old guy he usually played checkers with, and walked over to his chair by the window. Without a second glance at Hunter, he shoved Hunter’s chair back to where it belonged, by the couch, and plopped down in his own with his book. What the fuck?

“Huh, I think I’ll call him Sunshine.”

Hunter turned back to Bubba, who’d apparently amused himself. “Say it to his face at your own risk, Bubba.”

“Oh, Jim. A challenge? I love those.”

Hunter glanced back at Riley, who sat solitary, alone, and scowling as he read his book. “It’s your funeral.” Maybe mine too.



IT WASN'T BAD enough Riley had been verbally reamed by Dr. Landers, but to come back and find his only friend in that hellhole—a guy he’d trusted enough to share Andy’s secret with—getting cozy with the hot new guy… well, sunny didn’t exactly work in reference to Riley’s disposition.

Yeah, well, the whole lot of them could fuck right the fuck off. Dr. Landers. New Guy…. Hunter.

Oh, but you don’t mean that. Do you?

He slumped farther down in his seat, bringing the open book all the way up to his face. As a kid, Mimi had chastised him about reading like that, said holding a book that close to his eyes would make him go blind. He wasn’t really reading, though, more trying to hide the pissed-off mug he was rocking right now. And to think, all he’d wanted to do the entire time he was in Dr. Landers’s office was find Hunter and disappear. Maybe make plans for a second date, but noooooo.

He peeked over the edge of his book, just because curiosity wouldn’t let him mind his own business. For some ungodly reason, Riley wanted to know what was going down between his man and the new guy. His man.Riley snorted.

“Connors,” Jerry the orderly said, snapping Riley’s attention away from Hunter and the new guy. It took a second for his eyes to adjust, what with the sunlight pouring in from behind Jerry’s massive frame. “Time for group.”

“Again? Fuck. I’m tired of talking to people.”

“Sorry, kiddo. You gotta go. Rules are rules.”

“Right.”

Riley pushed up from his lonely seat in the corner, dropped his book facedown in the chair. Everyone knew that was his space and his book, and no one really screwed with his stuff, so he didn’t have a problem leaving it there.

“You too, Morgan,” Jerry said as he passed by Hunter’s table.

Riley did his damnedest to keep his eyes straight ahead. He couldn’t look at Hunter right now, not without wanting to go the fuck off, then rip New Guy to shreds. And they said he didn’t have any impulse control. Pft.

“Catch ya later, Jim,” the new guy said, holding up two fingers in Hunter’s direction.

“You too, Bubba.”

Bubba? Jim? What the hell?

They were guided into the same small room as before, same chairs but different characters. The doctor was someone Riley couldn’t look directly at. Something weird about his mouth made Riley twitch. Every time the dude spoke, his lips and jaw moved side to side, not up and down like normal people. That reallygot under Riley’s skin.

So he kept his stare on the floor like normal. He sure as hell couldn’t look at Hunter right now, not without feeling utterly betrayed and cast aside for some newer, hotter version of crazy. Maybe Hunter was the kind of person who needed to feel like he could save people or some shit. Sure would explain what happened last night, the way he’d taken care of Riley, been so kind and caring and actually made Riley feel good for a change. Maybe since he’d sorta saved one soul it was time to save another.

But as soon as Hunter took the seat beside him, Riley knew the cold-shoulder shtick wouldn’t last. He’d been biting his tongue, but now the pressure hurt in that emotional sorta way the therapists always talked about.

“So, y’all got nicknames, huh?” he whispered in Hunter’s direction, keeping his eyes straight ahead.

“So you’re talking to me, huh?”

Riley turned his head away, aiming it more at the doctor he couldn’t stand looking at rather than the guy he could stare at for hours. How the hell was he supposed to answer that? Didn’t he have a right to be a little pissed off?

“Didn’t look like you needed someone to talk to.”

“So when you’re being a jerk I’m supposed to sit with you and get the silent treatment… again?”

Jerk? Jerk! How the hell?

Eyes widened, Riley whipped his head toward Hunter. His mouth opened, ready to pour out a stream of belligerent bullshit, when the doctor saying “Let’s get started” put the brakes on the verbal explosion.

Now he had no choice but to sit there and fume, and he managed that well for all of about ten minutes. Had it not been for all the mixed feelings and the anger over New Guy getting cozy with hisman, Riley would’ve been content to keep his mouth shut and waste an hour of his day with people he couldn’t stand.

Oh, but he couldn’t do it. “How was I being a jerk?” he whispered bitterly, half not caring if they got called out for speaking out of turn.

“Are you shitting me? What? I’m supposed to embarrass myself in front of everyone and drag over the chair you pushed away? I assumed that meant not to fuck with you.” Hunter’s whisper held a low growl, jaw clenching as he glared at Riley.

Someone outside the bubble of their argument cleared their throat. Both Hunter and Riley jerked their heads in the direction of the sound. It’d been the doctor with the funky mouth, and he didn’t appear to be pleased at all.

“Is there something you’d like to share, Mr. Connors?”

Riley shook his head.

“You, Mr. Morgan?”

“Nah,” Hunter bit out.

“May I proceed, then?” Doc asked.

Neither one of them said a word. Riley didn’t so much as cut his eyes, despite his wanting to.

They were relegated to sitting in silence again, Hunter doing whatever Hunter did, Riley staring at the floor, counting down the minutes until they were finally free to go back to their room. And who knew what kind of fresh hell awaited them there. For all Riley knew, Hunter had every intention of chewing him out, up one side and down the other.

The hour went by faster than Riley expected it to. Probably because he wasn’t looking forward to being alone in a room with Hunter. Wow, what a contradiction to how he’d felt last night. Now he seriously wondered what the hell Hunter’s angle was.

Riley entered their room first and immediately slid into his bed. He didn’t bother with blankets or removing his slippers. Right now he just wanted to sleep and pretend none of this ever happened—well, none of it save for meeting Hunter. It didn’t matter how mad he wanted to be at Hunter, Riley cherished every second they’d spent in each other’s lives.

Boy, didn’t that make him want to melt into a puddle of blah.

He curled around his pillow, facing the wall, because looking at Hunter right now made him think about the moment he stepped into the common area, just wanting to sit down next to his friend and spill his guts over his session with Dr. Landers, only to find Hunter hanging out with someone else, laughing and talking to someone else in a way he didn’t really laugh with Riley. Maybe Riley was too morose. Maybe he needed to lighten up and chill the fuck out. Maybe he’d pushed Hunter away just like he’d pushed his mom away after he’d been rescued.

That's it for this week's Snippet Sunday. Only two more to go before We Found Love releases on January 5, available everywhere: Amazon, ARe, Sony, iBooks, B&N (will post those links as available)! Which is awesome because my birthday is January 6 so that's a pretty rad way to celebrate. (It also means I have an excuse to party twice as hard haha) Don't forget you can pre-order the eBook and/or paperback at [Dreamspinner Press] or the eBook at [ARe]. So excited for y'all to meet these guys.

 Until next time.

<3 Kaderade


Dreamspinner Press  |  GoodReads  | AReReleasing January 5, 2015!Available now for pre-order!

We Found Love: Snippet...Er...Monday

Hey guys!

Sorry I'm a little late on this. Of course I'm a spaz and forgot schedule this post and I was SO crazy busy yesterday, including a fabulous Brunch with the M/M reader crew. Fabulous times. So what is the first Snippet Sunday post for my upcoming release, We Found Love, releasing January 5 [Pre-Order Here] or [Here] , will actually be Snippet Monday. Just for this week haha. I've actually remembered to set up the following weeks' posts. Gracious.

So anywho. SUPER stoked this release is almost here. I've said before, this was probably one of my favorite projects ever, from the setting in a mental hospital, to the fabulously fucked up characters. I just loved working on this. It's definitely different than mine and Allison's first co-authored project, Teaching Professor Grayson. So anyways...  I'll get on with my Snippet, which is actually bordering on an excerpt in word count. But this scene sets up a big thing in Hunter & Riley's story. Their private room in a closed off section of the hospital that they sneak off to when they can and they go on these imaginary dates. That's actually where the WHOLE story idea came from, the idea of thus world of their own that they created. So there's some background for you haha.


A little set up: Hunter's second day at Hartfield Hospital has been rocky. He defended his new roommate, Riley, against a bully, got fussed at by feisty Riley for helping, he's suffering from alcohol DTs, and he went through a hellacious intake panel that set him off. So he'd lying in his room when Riley comes in...

“What’s with the scowl?”
Hunter rolled over in his bed, away from his roommate, who’d popped in the door to catch him battling with himself. ’Cause that’s how you prove you’re not crazy. He took a couple of deep breaths and rolled back to Riley, who now sat on his own bed, back leaning against the wall, arms wrapped around knees he’d pulled to his chest. He was studying Hunter in that quiet way he did, again. Hunter found it disarmed him less than it had at first. He couldn’t deny enjoying the interest in that searching gaze. It wasn’t sexual, but it was more passing interest than anyone had given him in any way for the last several years. He had an overwhelming need to melt into it, revel in the attention.
“What’s up?” he asked lamely.
Riley looked confused at the question but answered anyway. “Um. Sitting here?”
Hunter laughed because Riley’s tone conveyed he wasn’t being a smartass. Hunter realized What’s up? was probably a dumb question, though. What could he be up to? Getting meds, maybe, or perhaps eating again?
“Yeah. Silly question, I s’pose.” He was really trying. He found he didn’t want Riley to leave. He was intrigued by Riley, and not just because he was cute. Really cute. Even with his scars and the way one of his fingers was a little crooked from having obviously been broken and not set correctly. He was just a good-looking guy. But when he wasn’t being scrappy, when he spoke in his deep, quiet voice, Hunter was lulled into a weird place of not feeling completely adrift in this sea of sterile whites, blinded by the fluorescent suns.
“You feeling okay? I heard you get up a couple times.”
Hunter was embarrassed. He’d hoped he hadn’t awakened his roommate while he was unmanned before the porcelain goddess. Twice.
“Yep. Fine.”
Riley raised a disbelieving brow. “DT’s?” At Hunter’s grunted response Riley smiled. “They suck. I’ve met a couple guys who’ve gone through ’em here. What’s your DOC?”
Hunter narrowed his eyes at Riley. He’d been talking about his drug of choice all morning and wasn’t in the mood. “You’re awful nosy this morning for someone who clams up whenever I ask a question.”
Riley looked away from Hunter, smile dropping from his face. Damn but Hunter hated to see that shy smile disappear. He really was tired of talking about himself, though. Of course, that could be why Riley didn’t want to talk about his issues, either. Hunter decided to change the subject. Anything not to scare Riley off right now. Just… not right now.
“So what were you talking about last night? With the whole Disneyland thing?”
“Disney World.”
“World, land, whatever. What did you mean?”
There Riley went, clamming up again like he’d been doing all along. His focus shifted from Hunter to the door and back again. He took a breath, then exhaled. “Can I trust you?”
Hunter frowned. How did you answer that? He didn’t know Riley’s story. He didn’t know Riley from Adam. He knew he might like the guy. If they’d been in any other place he’d have hit on him, and if that failed would have at least tried to befriend him. He thought. Maybe? But how could he promise to be trustworthy when he didn’t know what trust meant to Riley? He felt special that Riley had asked. He didn’t seem like he spent much time with the other guys when he and Hunter weren’t in their room. Hell, he didn’t think he even saw Riley speak to anyone, other than a couple of the orderlies and the one old guy Riley had played cards with during breakfast who twitched a lot.
“I guess. I mean, who am I gonna tell anything, right?” He put on the faintest version of the smile he usually used with his friends to get what he wanted. And he wanted Riley’s trust. Or at least to know what he could do not to die of boredom in this place.
Riley didn’t seem to like that response. “You guess?” he asked, expression wary.
Hunter rethought the answer. Riley was not just another guy whose pants he was trying to get into at a party or another friend who he needed help from. Riley was different. Maybe crazy, but at least he was genuine. It’d been a long while since Hunter had met a genuine person.
“Yeah. Yeah, of course you can trust me.”
“Okay, because it’s something Andy told me about, and—”
“Whoa. Who’s Andy?” And why is this the first I’ve heard about him? Wait. Why do I care? “I mean….”
“No, it’s okay. He was the first friend I made here.”
“Was?” And do you really want to know the answer to that? “Was” could mean many things in a place like this.
“Yeah, um…,” Riley croaked, voice awkwardly cracking. He turned rigid again—a sign that the topic of Andy was uncomfortable for him. Though Hunter hated seeing him tense, curiosity was being a bitch right now. He might watch Riley squirm all damn night just to find out more about Andy.
“He was my first friend here,” Riley said. “He made it better.” His jaw rippled when he lowered his head, and he went right back to rubbing his forearm, as if Hunter were reading the lines of his scars or something. “He died about six months after I got here.”
Hunter ached for Riley. The pain emanating from him was palpable. The emotion of loss that resided deep in Hunter’s heart started knocking on the door he struggled hard to keep closed. He held his breath, waiting for any other emotion to win, anything but more of that deep, aching void that was despair and missing someone who’d become vital to your existence.
“What did he tell you about?” The words struggled their way out Hunter’s mouth, fighting past the pounding of his heart in his throat. But he had to get through this, had to keep talking.
“It’s a secret place away from this bullshit.” Riley nodded toward the door, meaning he was talking about everything happening outside their shared room. “There’s an entire wing of this place that’s been closed off from everyone. Somewhere we can go without people watching us all the time.”A secret place? Didn’t that sound promising. Until he thought…. “Wait. Secret place in a mental hospital? Isn’t that how horror movies always start?”
Riley smiled, more to himself than at Hunter, and it was twisted in a way Hunter couldn’t decipher.
“When your whole life is a horror movie, what’s a little adventure?”
“Because that makes me feel better….”
Riley shrugged. “If you don’t want, you don’t have to go. It’s cool, though. I just need a break from this… place.”
He still wasn’t convinced, but after more days than he could remember now, he’d been picked over, prodded, given blood, vomited, and had a catheter. A catheter. Administered by a fucking hot nurse he didn’t know—but he never remembered anyone, thanks to being drunk. A break sounded nice.
And it’s not like he was housed with sociopaths and killers. His doctor had told him he was housed with other suicide cases, long-term guys with clinical but nonviolent issues, and other mild cases. While he wondered which of those Riley fit into, he didn’t fear for his safety going somewhere with his roommate.
“Okay.” He looked back to Riley, who was studying him, amused this time. “Okay,” he said more confidently. “I’m game.” He tried to sit up, but his stomach roiled from the mixture of detox, pills, and the sharp pain that shot through his ribs. “Um, if we could just wait until I don’t feel like garbage.” He grunted as he fell back down onto his pillow.Riley laughed quietly.
A spasm of pain shot through his ribs again. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
“What’s wrong? You need a nurse?” Riley’s voice was closer, but he couldn’t ascertain where he was because he was lost in a fog of bone-weary tiredness and pain.
“No. No, I’m fine, Riley.”
He heard some shuffling, the snick of the door. He hated that Riley had gone, but he figured Riley was trying to give him some—
“Is it your ribs?”
And suddenly a warm hand was under his shirt, rubbing his abused ribs. Nimble if uneven fingers kneaded and stroked his skin. The ache wasn’t gone, but it was eased, if only a bit. His skin raised in goose pimples, moving around with every sweet touch. He let out a sigh and relaxed into his pillows, trying his damnedest not to cry. It’d been so long since he’d been touched in kindness, and this from a complete stranger.
He wanted to hug his roommate but didn’t imagine Riley was the type. Until the bed dipped gently and Riley lay beside him, still stroking his skin, calming him and making his aching body capitulate. He could sleep like this. Forever.
“This okay?” Riley’s breath was on Hunter’s ear. Emotion swelled in his throat, so all he could do was nod. Riley’s breathing huffed, the whisper of a laugh as he continued to lull Hunter into sleep.
“Thank you, Hunter. For helping me.”
Hunter drifted off, warm and feeling safe, smiling.
****
THOSE quiet, contented snores were an incredible sound. They meant Hunter had found enough peace to finally sleep. That was important around here. Andy had taught Riley that, and exactly the same way. He’d made himself forget all about it. Until now. Because Andy had turned into one of them—those people who never hang around, despite how badly Riley needed him.
Riley didn’t want to leave that bed, not for a second. He liked this less-alone feeling, this sense of being wanted and welcomed. But he knew morning checks would come shortly after sunrise, and the last thing anyone needed to see was the two of them snuggled up in one bed. So reluctantly, Riley removed his arms from Hunter’s body, covered him with the blankets, and returned to his own bed.
And that had been the shortest night of Riley’s long life.
He settled into his bed, mussed the sheets to make it look like he’d been there all night, and curled around his pillow. But he wouldn’t use those last few hours of predawn to catch some z’s. Not even close. He was too worried about Hunter and the state of things going on in that body over there to pretend like sleeping was an option.
Every time Hunter shivered, Riley saw it and wanted to warm him. Every time he whimpered, Riley wanted to hold him. It was strange and unsettling, being in the role of nurturer, because Riley had never been that guy before. Now, with Hunter, he thought he could.
He rolled back on his bed, keeping his head turned to the side so as not to miss a single moment, and he waited for his internal clock to sound its alarms. In nineteen months, his body had acclimated to the schedule his scrub-covered friends had forced on him. In a matter of minutes, they would come by and flip on the lights, announce themselves, and announce breakfast.
Breakfast was a special kind of horror. Usually powdered eggs and burned bacon or stale cereal and watery juice. No coffee. They didn’t give the nutcases the hard stuff. Better to keep the crazies sedate. Riley would’ve gladly skipped the fresh hell of breakfast any day, but then he’d be antisocial and uncooperative. Maybe even earn himself a longer stay.
The doorknob jiggled and the hinges squeaked. A soft voice called out, “Checks,” and Riley immediately sat up on his bed.
The whimper from Hunter’s side of the room stole his attention. The covers bunched and tugged, then twisted as Hunter flopped over. He faced Riley now. The lights overhead reflected in the beads of sweat dotting his skin. His face looked paler than it had been last night, eyes darker. Damn, Riley wanted to be in that bed with him.
“You okay over there?” the man in the doorway asked in Hunter’s general direction. Not like he really cared. When Hunter grunted, the man returned an “A’ight, then” and ducked out of their room. They were alone again, not for long, but alone.
Chewing the inside of his cheek, Riley turned and let his legs dangle over the mattress. He locked his hands in the sheets to keep himself anchored where he belonged. The door was still open, meaning anyone could accidentally see them if Riley did make the ballsy move to return to that bed.
“I slept,” Hunter said, voice gravelly but lilting, as though he couldn’t believe he’d actually managed a full night of shut-eye. Riley wondered when he’d last had a full eight.
“That’s good. Right?”
“Yeah.” Hunter finally sat up, dragging his hand over his ear-length blond hair. It was moist, just like his forehead. “Did you—”
“Stay with you all night?”
“Sleep?”
Heat filled Riley’s face. He suddenly felt incredibly stupid for assuming. He didn’t answer the question for fear of giving his embarrassment away. He worried his voice might crack awkwardly, that it might quiver in all the wrong places.
“Did you… stay with me all night?”
The stare Hunter pinned him with would’ve knocked him on his ass had Riley not been sitting down already. It wasn’t a look of anger. Not the narrowing of eyes or the dilating of pupils. It was hard to explain, but what Riley saw was softness, hope.
“Yeah,” he whispered. “’Til it got close to time for—” Riley nodded at the door. “Didn’t know how you’d feel about them finding us in the same bed.”
“I, um….” Hunter blinked, eyes shining, and turned his face away. “Thanks. I probably wouldn’t have slept at all without you…. You know.”
His looking away nagged at Riley, nagged him to get off his ass and check on his roommate, just to make sure everything was okay. And yet Riley didn’t budge. “You um… looked like you needed… someone.”
Hunter’s gaze slowly came back to meet Riley’s, and he gave a small nod. “That was really nice of you. It really helped. A lot.”
Truthfully, it sorta helped Riley too. Habit and fear kept him away from people, as a rule, anyway. Not with Hunter. He couldn’t keep distance with Hunter. Being close to the guy felt as natural as breathing. Riley blamed that on kindred souls, on two people who just needed someone to care. He assumed Hunter didn’t have anyone like that. Otherwise he wouldn’t have been dumped in a place like Hartfield.
He was on the verge of admitting to enjoying the night and the way it felt to hold on to Hunter. Before he could make himself cop to the confession, the door creaked open and a head popped in. “Breakfast.”

Alright. I know that was a long one. I just loved this moment so much. The rest will actually just be SNIPPETS. But I hope that y'all enjoyed this. Don't forget you can pre-order the eBook and/or Paperback at [Dreamspinner] or eBook at [ARe] .

<3 kaderade


Dreamspinner  |  ARe  |  GoodReadsReleasing January 5, 2015!Pre-Order Available Now!

We Found Love: Excerpt & Pre-Order

OMFG! I can't believe this is almost here. We Found Love is now up for pre-order at  [Dreamspinner] , releasing January 5. The day before my birthday so that'd rad. This project is probably one of my favorite things I've done so far. Again, I worked with Allison Cassatta, but this... This book was darker. I've never cried so writing something. Teaching Professor Grayson was fun to write but in We Found Love, I felt like we really connected and the characters and the uniqueness of the setting just really made everything about this story work for me. I hope you guys love Riley & Hunter as much as we did. From a special hidden room, to horrible pasts, to getting their shit together separately and together... I just felt connected to these characters more than any in a long time. So here's an excerpt. And I'll add the pre-order link again at the bottom, as well.



We Found Love  by Kade Boehme & Allison Cassatta
It’s no surprise Riley Connors is dealing with issues. He was kidnapped as a young boy, and his parents abandoned him after his newsworthy return. He bounced from foster home to facility and back. Now an adult, ghosts from his past continue to haunt him. After a suicide attempt, he is locked away in Hartfield so that people can make him tune in to emotions he has tried to bury. 

Hunter Morgan had the kind of love that spans ages. But the stress of college and adulthood became too much to handle, and the love of Hunter’s life turned to drugs. After he overdoses, Hunter finds himself soaring out of control on the same miserable path. His brother finds him and calls an ambulance, and the sister Hunter would rather not have calls it a suicide attempt, landing Hunter in Hartfield. 

Finding love isn’t easy, but it can happen under the most dire circumstances. Together Hunter and Riley may be able to grow from their pain. But they will need to learn to live for themselves, letting love come second.


EXCERPT:

They couldn’t just leave well enough alone, could they. Those colorful-scrub-covered assholes insisted on dragging everyone out of their rooms, even the most antisocial bastard in the group—a title Riley held with pride. No one there liked him. He didn’t like them. The hate/hate relationship worked well because it meant no one wanted to talk to him. But there he sat, in a corner far from everyone else, with a print copy of One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nestopened wide in one hand. He’d always thought it ironic and a bit offensive for that classic to be one of the few books they had in this place.A yellow hue hung over the room, most likely thanks to the piss-colored walls and off-white linoleum. It seemed to keep everyone nice and subdued, or maybe that was the drugs they fed everyone there. Riley always kept his mouth shut and didn’t act out, so they never knew if he was high or not—or low, as it were.The sound of creaking wheels in bad need of a lube job caught his attention. The two big-ass orderlies were wheeling another one in. Another fucking one. Wasn’t this place already crowded enough? Pretty much every room had two people in it already. His was one of the rare exceptions, but his had always been a special case. But he was low man on the totem pole in the grand scheme of things. An old-timer but not as home sweet home as the two sickos down the hall from him.He showed up in the standard apparel—white T-shirt, blue hospital pants, and blue socks with nonskid soles so people wouldn’t bust their asses. They’d issue a pair of shitty plastic slippers to him once he got settled in. Even give him a comb for that messy blond shit on his head… ifthey didn’t think he’d hurt someone with it. This dude might be the type. He def looked the part.“What the fuck are you staring at?” the newbie yelled, for no reason at all from what Riley could tell. But the newb’s dark stare was zeroed in on Riley. That’s when he knew he’d been the one staring and the newb was yelling at him.Without hesitating long enough to take a breath, Riley averted his eyes back down to the book opened in his hands. He pretended to focus on the words while looking up through his dark eyelashes.“Quiet, Morgan,” the orderly pushing the wheelchair barked.“Or we could have this beautiful nurse here sedate ya,” the second one added, nodding toward the long-legged ginger who’d started working at the facility a few weeks ago. She hadn’t been properly broken in yet. No one had made any huge scenes for her.Her cheeks pinkened, and Riley wanted to vomit. The sad thing was, the big Latino motherfucker hitting on her made the moves on all the cute nurses, who came and went at that place like bread going stale. No one with any sanity, hope for a career, or desire for better hung around that place—patients included. And Riley was quickly heading toward his nineteenth month, with no hope of reprieve.The newb’s head swung when they abruptly made a right toward the patients’ wing. It was close to the nurses’ station for the ones who need to be watched closely. The farther down the hall you got, the saner the patients were—save for the old-timers, who were truly out of their minds but had learned the ropes and knew how not to rock the boat. Riley’s room was down that way, and from the looks of it, the newb was headed there fast.Abruptly dropping the book, Riley pushed up from his corner perch and onto his feet. He absently followed, aware he was drawing closer to the action but not completely aware of the hows or whys. Curiosity? Maybe?They stopped right outside his door, and Señor Badass reached for the knob. Riley’s gut twisted, heart going down for the count. The one thing he had in that place, his beloved privacy, was being yanked out from underneath him, and he couldn’t do anything more than watch. Bend over, kiddo, take it like a man.“Fuck,” he muttered. As far as anyone knew, that was his favorite word in a very limited vocabulary—most of which consisted of curses, because only things truly curse-worthy ever made him speak. And this moment was worthy of the most epically foul curse word in the litany of foul four-lettered concoctions.“Whose bed is that?” he heard the newbie ask.“His.” The orderly pointed in Riley’s direction.Riley went deer-in-headlights, frozen and wide eyed and tasting the remnants of a flavorless lunch in the back of his throat.



Hunter looked up, unable to stop the scowl on his face from making itself known. “Whose?” He heard a growl in his own voice that was probably uncalled for, but why change his whole fuck-off demeanor now?Then he saw his roommate. Sawhim. It seemed cliché to think such a thing, but the man in the door was hard not to notice. The brief flick of a glance, a perfect tongue dancing on sweet, pillowy lips—hope and faith disguised in a compact, mistreated body.“Oh, hey,” Hunter said dumbly.“Hey,” his roommate said, barely a whisper.Hunter found he couldn’t help bounding from his chair, extending a hand to shake. What are you doing?His roomie jumped back. Well, not necessarily jumped so much as flailed. His wide eyes flicked in every direction but Hunter’s before his gaze fell to the floor. Hunter felt he’d fucked up somehow but had no clue how. His mama always said he was too forward, but fuck. Not like he had the energy to fuck someone or the hope to think he could be more to someone than…. Yeah.He sat back down slowly. One of the orderlies huffed a laugh before leaning toward his ear and whispering, “Don’t sweat it. He don’t like nobody, dude.”
Hunter looked up at the orderly, who was pointing at a prominent scar on his chin. “He put me through a window.”Hunter reared in surprise, then jerked his head in the direction of his new roomie. The dude was barely over five foot eight. Hell, Hunter thought he was short, and he was five foot ten.He was wrong.His roomie was also pale as fuck, the skin on his face smooth as a marble. Not like Hunter could see much of it. The way the cutie hid behind his bangs, Hunter wanted to shave the guy’s head just to see more of that.Roomie was clearly uncomfortable under Hunter’s lecherous gaze, moving into the room and shoving his belongings into his pockets. He seemed extremely uncomfortable, but fuck if Hunter could stop himself. Who’d’ve thought? Horny even in the Crazy House.“Riley, it’s cool, man. Would we put you with someone you wouldn’t be safe with?” the scarred orderly asked.Riley’s expression said yes, they would indeed do that. Riley. Wasn’t that a fitting name for such a cute guy? What was he doing there? Probably trapped like me.Clearly, Riley was normal like Hunter. No one with a tattooed sleeve and swagger like that was fucked-up. Maybe he was just shy? Who cared? At least Hunter had some eye candy for his stay.The orderlies snorted. When Hunter turned his attention to them, he realized they were making fun of him, obviously realized he’d been checking out the fresh meat. The scarred orderly patted his shoulder.“Good luck with that, homie,” Scarface said.Hunter snorted. He wanted to say something clever in return, but when he turned back to Riley-Roomie, the brief glimpse he got of the man’s eye was a bit too feral for comfort.He heard himself swallow, so there was no wonder the orderly had patted his shoulder. Even if this wasn’t prison, he suddenly had the urge never to drop the soap. Even if Riley-Roomie was that cute.When the orderlies helped him onto his new bed, he lay back, not daring to look toward the other man. His withdrawal problems may have lessened, but he definitely felt a good headache throbbing, like a hangover with Riley’s name on it.

Alright guys. Hope you enjoyed! I'll start up Snippet Sundays this coming weekend <3
Don't forget you can pre-order from Dreamspinner Press by clicking HERE .

Teaching Professor Grayson Is Out Now!!

Yay! It's finally here. Release day. Thanks so much, again, to Dreamspinner for believing in the story and it was such a joy working with Allison to write this one. Attaching the cover, blurb, excerpt and buy links!

Buy at Dreamspinner Buy at Amazon

 Teaching Professor Graysonby Kade Boehme & Allison Cassatta
Christian Grayson is a professor of sociology who comes from a close-knit Southern family steeped in values and tradition. He left Tennessee using education as his excuse for escape, when he truthfully only wanted the freedom to be who he truly was. But at age forty, he’s still in the closet and still adheres to the morals his father, a Southern Baptist minister, raised him with. This includes saving himself for Mr. Right. 

CJ Hata has been under Christian's wing since his freshman year. A genius, pure and simple, he's a senior now and no longer needs to report to Professor G, but he still seeks his teacher out occasionally for a friendly chat. 

When Christian accidentally outs himself to CJ while pouring his heart out about his dying father, CJ feels totally out of his element. He convinces himself to put forth his best effort because the man he’s been crushing on for four years needs a friend. In the meantime, everyone around CJ is stumbling out of the closet, but the one person he really wants to come out has barricaded himself in with the bible and his family's expectations.
Excerpt:

Chapter One“Your father ain’t gettin’ no better.” If ever a voice dripped with worry, Christian’s mother’s certainly did then. The quiver of her words. The raspiness of her tone. She sounded utterly exhausted. How long had she been at the hospital this time?“I can get away this weekend,” Christian said, rubbing his hand across his furrowed brow, looking over the stacks of papers he hadn’t graded and the essay questions he hadn’t finished composing.The I thinkremained implied.Truth be told, Christian Grayson, professor of sociology, didn’t have time to put his life in Florida on hold to go back to Tennessee. Students needed him. The school needed him. However, Christian Grayson, first son of Pastor Richard Grayson, would make all the time he needed for his family. Because good children made sacrifices for their parents.“I can fly out Friday after class,” Christian continued, arranging a plan in his head.“I think that’ll be wonderful.”“Then that’s what I’ll do.”“Christian?”His murmured name finally stilled him. He stopped shuffling papers. His body turned rigid. Her once warm, motherly tone was now laden with sadness. Sadness and worry.“Pray ’til then?”The plea gripped his heart like a tightened fist. His mother had always been such a strong, inspiring woman, with an unwavering faith in God. Now… well, she sounded as though she’d already lost the love of her life.“I promise, Mom. I’ll see you Friday. I love you.”“I love you too, Christian. Be safe.”With those soft words left between them, Christian hung up his phone and all but melted into his chair. The weight of the world was firmly planted on his shoulders, pinning him down in his seat. He leaned his forearms on his messy desk, clenching both hands together. Thanks to a blossoming headache, he imagined his brain in the same sort of vise.A soft rapping at the door pulled Christian away from his internal breakdown. He raised his head to find a student standing between the jambs. She was a bright girl with a sparkling personality who could’ve used a bit more clothing and had a good chance of making something of herself if she stopped using her sexuality to get ahead.“Miss Morris.” Christian sat back and squared his shoulders, folding his hands in his lap like his father used to do when he was about to school his son on being a proper man of God. “How can I help you?”“May I come in?”“Please.”She did, sauntering into his office like a streetwalker. Christian only made the connection because of the black skirt barely covering her bottom. Her spiked heels were so high she would’ve towered over him by an easy inch had he been standing, and Christian wasn’t a short man. Not quite six feet tall, but close enough.When she sat down, she made a show of crossing her legs. She leaned her elbows against her knees, pushing her breasts up into the V of the skimpy plaid top she wore. It might have looked nice with a black sweater to cover the parts better left to a straight man’s imagination. But Christian wasn’t interested.“How can I help you?” he asked, hoping she would drop the seductiveness. Somehow, he knew he wouldn’t be so lucky.“Well, remember I told you I needed help with my women’s studies assignment?”Nodding, he recalled how odd he thought it was for her to ask for hishelp. He wasn’t sure what he could do, but Christian never said no to a student.“Miss Morris, what exactly is the assignment?”“I have to write a paper on women in religion, and I’m trying to do something fresh. Something thathasn’t been drilled into the ground a million times already.”“And you’re asking me because…?”She frowned, straightening in the chair. Her cleavage no longer peeked from the neckline of her plaid blouse. Christian silently thanked God. He’d been uncomfortable since she’d walked in the door.“Don’t you have a theology degree?” she asked.“Well, yes, I do, but I—”“Then you’re the only person I know who can help me with this.”Was now the time to tell her he’d been raised in a home where the woman knew her role—mother, homemaker, unwavering supporter of her husband? While his mother was always strong in his eyes, she still followed the roles society and the Bible prescribed for her. He wasn’t the man for this particular job. Not at all.Christian sighed. “Miss Morris, I—”“But, you’re a believer,” she objected. You go to church.”Maybe, but being a believer and going to church didn’t mean he had any right preaching to her, especially not in the case of a woman’s role in the church. He wasn’t even sure hehad a proper role in the church anymore. What about abominations? What about sodomy? About his being gay? He had no right speaking to anyone about God. Right?“Professor Grayson?” Miss Morris reached across the desk. She laid her hand over his. Worry washed over her face. “Are you okay? You paled.”“I’m fine.”He pulled back, tucking his hands in his lap again. When had he sat forward? When had he leaned his elbows on his desk? Christian never did such a thing. It was a no-no in the Grayson household. His mother would’ve scolded him terribly.“Miss Morris—” Christian cleared his throat and cleared his head. “—you need to determine your subject on your own. Do some research. Come back to me when you have an idea of what you want to talk about. I will gladly help you, but I’m not doing the paper for you.”“I understand.” She nodded.She stood, squared her shoulders, and poked out her cleavage—as if he hadn’t already seen enough. “I really wish we could work on it together.” She pouted. No doubt the look had seduced many unsuspecting men, and maybe if Christian liked thatsort of thing….Licking her lips, she pressed both palms down on his desk, leaning in to, again, highlight her ample cleavage. “Or we could get dinner and talk, or—”“Such a suggestion is highly inappropriate, Miss Morris.” But I wouldn’t be interested if it wasn’t.“I’m sorry.”“You’re dismissed.”Without another word or a moment of hesitation, she made an about-face and click-clacked her way out of Christian’s office with surprising speed, considering the height of those heels. Christian lowered his eyes to the picture of his family: his mother and father, Ashley, his baby brother, and his sister, Linda.His father looked so healthy and virile, so full of life, in the photo. It was taken more than a decade ago, right before Christian had left for Florida in hopes of making a new life for himself, in hopes of finding himself and finally being honest about who he was inside.Now here he was, ten years later, with nothing to show for the move save for a pretty good job. He hadn’t fallen in love, and honestly, hadn’t really tried. The idea of being out and proud seemed like such a ridiculous notion, what with all the God Hates Fags propaganda blowing up the media. The idea of a deity he revered hating him, not to mention the danger of soiling his family’s good name, made shoving himself to the back of the closet so easy to do. So much for being honest with himself, for being the true Christian Grayson. Thatman had yet to show his face.And now, to add more fuel to a blazing fire, his father’s cancer had reached the point the doctors had been promising for months. The time no one looked forward to was finally upon them.The family’s patriarch, their anchor and their shepherd, was sick and dying, and there Christian sat chastising some desperate child over her inappropriateness. It seemed so unimportant now. Before, the only thing he had ever wanted to do was mold young minds and create freethinkers. He wanted a better future for men and women like him—those who loved the same sex but were too afraid to own their sexuality. He’d wanted to help build a new world, a world where people could love God and be gay and no one would bat an eye. Now, he only wanted to be there for his mother and father, even if they didn’t know the truth their son hid from them.He turned his eyes toward the ceiling, toward off-white corkboard tiles and fluorescent lighting, and silently asked God why his life had to be so difficult. Why couldn’t he have been blessed with the simplicity of being straight, with uncomplicated ideals he shared with his family? He could be harvesting corn or green beans rather than dealing with the inappropriateness of oversexed twentysomething children. His brother and sister had spouses and children already. They had homes in Tennessee, close to the farm, and they worshipped in their father’s church. Christian was the outsider. He was the one who had to be different, even though he’d spent nearly every night of his young adulthood praying to be normal like them.With a sigh, Christian ran his fingers through his hair. The older he got, the coarser it became. He was starting to find slivers of gray mixed in with the chocolate brown. Those tell-tale grays even sprinkled the faint dusting of hair around his jawline. He was getting older, old enough his parents expected him to be settled down now, and while he wanted to be, it seemed so much easier to lie and say school kept him too busy than to tell them he was gay.Another tap at the door tore a groan from Christian’s lips. None of this was out of the ordinary, and yet today he wished for something different. He wished he could get a minute alone to deal with everything tornadoing through his head.“I’m sorry. I can come back,” the person in the doorway said.Christian’s head jerked up. His gaze landed on the one person he wouldn’t mind talking to right now—a man who he’d grown fond of over the past three years or more, a student who’d proven his genius, whom Christian respected.“No, please. Come in,” Christian said, righting himself in his chair.CJ’s smile did Christian in, made warmth radiate from his heart and through his limbs. If a single curl of lips and flash of teeth could brighten an entire room, CJ’s could. And Christian’s mood brightened right along with it.

CJ hesitated a moment before walking into Professor G’s office. Poor guy didn’t look too good, his face a little pasty, when CJ had first knocked. “You sure? I can come back if now’s not good.”Professor G sat up, smiling brightly and squaring his shoulders. “No, please. I was just resting my eyes for a second. What can I help you with, Mr. Hata?”CJ struggled not to roll his eyes. Not only had he told Professor G not to call him Mr. Hata—he’d been in the man’s classes for over three years—but Professor G mangled the pronunciation of CJ’s last name every time he said it. CJ blamed his need to correct people on his father’s being so particular about the way Americans slaughtered Japanese words. If CJ were totally honest, he’d admit he liked the way Professor G’s Southern drawl made his name sound like “Hawt.”Hot.If only Professor G saw him that way. CJ would’ve gladly done any number of things—all those things failing students did with the promise of an easy A—without expecting anything in return. He’d spent three years looking at those broad shoulders in every manner of farm-boy-cum-edumacated-man button-down shirt. And nothing was quite as distracting in an advisory meeting as those piercing blue eyes. Or maybe it was the lips. Or—“You needed something?” Professor G’s smile hadn’t dimmed; he looked more amused than anything.Shit.“Oh, yeah. Sorry. I just… zoned out.” CJ mentally kicked himself. This was about graduation. If there was one thing he would in no way jeopardize, no matter how sexy the professor, it was his education.“I saw something on my transcript I needed to ask you about.”“Of course. Let me pull it up.” Professor G rolled his chair closer to his desk and moved files around until he unearthed a keyboard. He clicked rapidly over the keys, pounding out in loud succession a series of letters and numbers that eventually granted him access to the records of every student in his care. It seemed to take fifteen forevers. When the sound ceased, the professor shifted his eyes toward CJ.What the hell was he looking at? Why were his cheeks turning pink?Oh. Wait. Maybe because CJ had his bottom lip sucked between his teeth like a baby with a freakin’ pacifier. Yeah. Professor G was so cute, though CJ was as sure a guy who had to be close to forty wouldn’t enjoy being called cute any more than CJ liked being called a “twink” at twenty-two.Get. Your shit. Together, Hata.He shook off his crushing man crush as best he could as he made his way to one of the chairs facing Professor G.“Oh, I see.” Professor G turned a sardonic glare CJ’s way, and it was CJ’s turn to look embarrassed. He’s seen your incomplete in music appreciation. “Music appreciation,” the professor said drily. “Again.” And drawly.Focus.“I thought you said if I did those other electives….”“CJ. You’re the onlystudent I know who has grades like yours and doesn’t want to take the easiest elective at this school.”“It’s Dr.—”“Dr. Fielder. I know. ‘He’s incompetent, obviously uneducated, and not worth his tenure.’”Well. Fuck Professor G for his perfect imitation of CJ’s snobbery. “It’s not polite to mock people.”Professor G laughed. It was a joyous sound, and he looked much better than he had when CJ walked in, but he wasn’t sure he liked the professor’s joy being at his expense. He chose to believe the professor was laughing becauseof him, not at him.Regardless, CJ glared at him. “It’s not nice to mock your students, is it?”“Even if it’s true?” Professor G arched a brow.CJ snorted. “What? That the man is a hack? Of course it’s true.”Okay. So maybe CJ was a bit judgmental. No newsflash there. But Professor G closed his eyes, smiling and shaking head. So CJ couldn’t help but think if his being an ass made someone else’s day better, why change it? Right?“Okay. Well. How do I get out of this?”“CJ, you don’t. You need to register for the class. You’ve still got three days to get a spot.” Professor Grayson looked back at his computer screen, clicked his mouse a few times, then gave a triumphant “You’re in.”“Thanks,” CJ grumbled.Professor G looked back his way, expression much more serious this time. “CJ, we’re friends, right?” CJ raised his brow. Yes, friendsis what they were. CJ wished it were more, but he could live with the fact that he’d earned enough of the man’s respect over the years to be on a more personal level with him.They’d worked on committees, been two of the few volunteers for most of the student government events. Professor G had recommended CJ to the education center where CJ worked as a tutor. There’d even been the one trip to a political debate they’d organized for the sociology department. Unfortunately, only five people had decided to go, so it wasn’t an official trip, but CJ and Professor G ended up hanging out and discussing politics and the social relevance of the events the speakers had gotten on their soap boxes about long after the others in their group had dwindled away.Now, CJ helped more than Professor G’s paid TA, equally to stare at the man and to pick his brain. He was smart and timidly funny, if not a bit unwordly for a man his age.So, yeah. They were friends, albeit in a strange and more formal setup than CJ liked.“Friends. Yeah, we’re friends.” CJ groaned when he realized what was coming. “Oh, no. Dude. This is where you do the ‘Professor G is disappointed in CJ’ thing?”Christian smiled warmly and rolled his eyes. “Of course it is. You’re too smart to have to take another semester because of one elective, a very simple elective at that. I’ve helped you slide by, but you shoot down all the others.” Because they all suck. “Can you please just take the class and play nice with Dr. Fielder?”“I don’t—”“For me?”CJ blinked.Oh, but there was a list from here to Timbuktu of the things CJ wouldn’t mind doing for Professor G—none of which included anything remotely close to taking a stupid class and playing nice with Dr. Half-wit. Nope. His list contained items that had little to do with academics… or clothes. CJ couldn’t stop the blush or the way his tongue flicked out to wet his lips.Professor G’s eyes widened slightly and he hurrumphed before averting his gaze and shuffling papers. “I’m running out of excuses for bypassing their classes.”Definitely overthought that one, dumbass. “Okay.” CJ also averted his eyes, scratching the back of his neck and trying to play off his stupidity. God, he hoped his cheeks weren’t too red. “I’ll do the class.” He snatched his book bag up before he could do anything else to make himself look like an idiot.“Would you do me a favor?” Professor G’s soft, almost expressionless voice stopped CJ from disappearing back into the sea of students shuffling down the hall. He raised his head, shooting a glance over his shoulder. “There’s somewhere important I need to be this weekend and I’m already running behind. If I gave you a list of topics I want covered, could you maybe put together some good essay questions and hand them to my TA by Monday? You know this material well. Better than him, even.” The last bit was mumbled, probably not meant for CJ to hear. The grave look Professor G had been wearing earlier slid back over his face—skin pale, eyes dark. CJ wanted to ask what the hell was up, even waffled between being blunt and asking the question or hinting around about his professor’s look of certain doom.“Yeah. Sure. I can handle it.” CJ frowned. “You okay?”“Mhm….” The sound was an acknowledgement. Not an answer to the question. And Professor G wouldn’t look him in the eye.

 Dreamspinner  |  AmazonAvailable Now!

Teaching Professor Grayson: Snippet Sunday/Christian's revelation

Another Snippet Sunday for Teaching Professor Grayson! [Pre-Order Here] or [Amazon] . Holy crap! It's the last weekend because we release the coming up Friday (November 21)! *squeals*. So I saved Christian's big reveal for last. The guys are hanging out, going to one of CJ's favorite beach spots to have a moment to discuss where they stand. It's the beginning of ... well... THEM so things have been a little up in the air. I love this moment...

Aside from the occasional direction from CJ, they both remained quiet. The silence wasn’t entirely uncomfortable, but it wasn’t easy by any means. CJ, inquisitive by nature, often asked questions some found socially unacceptable in their lack of couth, so he was trying his damnedest not to bludgeon the answers he wanted out of Christian. But dammit, he was sick of the angst. The longer the road stretched on, regardless of the drive west on I-4 and south on Highway 41 only lasting twenty minutes, the tighter CJ’s chest had grown from stress and utter confusion as to how he should be feeling.But Christian had been clear. He’d rejected CJ’s advances. He’d drawn a line in the sand. They were teacher and student. CJ had told him to leave him out of this midlife crisis, yet here he was in the car with him. What the hell was he thinking?“This it?” Christian’s question snapped CJ out of his inner fuckery.“Oh, shit. Yeah. This is it.” He pointed to the parking area.Christian cleared his throat, causing CJ to look his way. A glare greeted him. “Oh, shit. I mean… shoot,” he said lamely. “I know. Language.”Christian gave one more disapproving glare before smiling and rolling his eyes.CJ was so glad when the ignition was switched off, he practically bounced out of the car. He loved this beach. It wasn’t flashy since it was on the lower side of the bay. It didn’t have quite the same smell as beaches farther north up the panhandle, or the same white sand. But the sun was just as perfect here, and the air was just as magic. There was something about Florida for CJ, and for all his distaste for people who didn’t wish to expand their worldview, he couldn’t imagine wanting to be too far from home, from the beaches and the people.Christian fell into step beside CJ, and for the first time since they’d left the school, CJ was completely in his element, much more comfortable. “Want to hit the vendors for some food?” CJ pointed toward the side of the parking lot, where a few cars were parked and people milled around in their business suits by food carts, seeking a break from their offices around the area.“Only if you’re hungry,” Christian said. Then he nodded back the other way, toward the water. “I’d rather head away from the people. If that’s okay with you.”CJ studied Christian carefully. He seemed uneasy. CJ nodded and started down the path to the beach. The wind hit his face gently, and he hoped the atmosphere would serve to calm Christian as it did him. When he stepped onto the sand, he removed his shoes and made his way down to the water. He waited quietly for Christian to catch up.After a moment of silence, CJ glanced over at Christian whose toes were also dug into the sand, head turned up toward the sun, face relaxed. CJ was almost overwhelmed at how fucking young the man looked in that moment. He didn’t know whether to smile or cry for Christian, but he was desperately glad to be there.“I see why you wanted to come here,” Christian said, voice wistful. He sounded genuinely content, and the change was refreshing. When he turned his squinted gaze away from the clouds, CJ saw the peace in it firsthand. “You’ll be proud of me. I hope.”CJ wasn’t quite sure what to say. “Oh?”“Yeah. I found a therapist.” Christian rubbed the back of his neck. “An LGBT friendly therapist.”CJ definitely fumbled, but… “Good for you. Really, Christian.” And he meant it. He was so glad Christian was getting help. “I’m glad. I wish I’d been able to… I don’t know what I wish. But good for you.”“You did plenty. You’re the reason I went, actually. No one has ever talked to me like you did, and it stuck.” Christian snorted. “Boy, did it stick.”“Seriously? I was a complete dick to you—”“Stop. Okay? I needed someone to be a… a… a dick to me.”“I wasn’t saying you didn’t deserveto be treated like a dick. Cuz you were one… but….” CJ couldn’t stop himself from laughing at a forty-year-old man being hesitant to say the word dick. “Really? Dick? What do you call your own?” Oh. Hell. Had he said that out loud?Abruptly averting his gaze, Christian took to rubbing his neck again. Were his earlobes really turning red? “I um… I can’t think of a time I’ve talked about it. I, um… haven’t done the deed.” He looked back at CJ. “You know….”“Whoa.” CJ choked on the word. “Wait. You’re a virgin? Isn’t that like a movie thing? The40-Year-Old Virgin?”“Oh, you’re funny.” Christian rolled his eyes. “I promised to save myself for the person I fall in love with. It’s a personal choice. But that’s kinda not the point here.”“Well I feel like a slut now. Thanks.”Christian threw up his hands, shaking his head in a fierce “No,” eyes wide and mortified.CJ started laughing his ass off and shoved Christian’s shoulder. “I’m just fuckin’ with you, man.” He kept laughing at the glare he got in return.“Language,” Christian chastised, which only made CJ laugh harder.

That does is guys. I hope y'all enjoyed and I really can't wait for this book to be released. It was such a pleasure to write and I think CJ and Christian are among some of my favorite characters I've written. So you guys hit up the pre-order links at [Dreamspinner] or [Amazon] . And happy reading!

<3kaderade


 GoodReads  |  Amazon  |  DreamspinnerComing November 21, 2014!

Teaching Professor Grayson: Snippet Sunday #1

Alright! It's that time again..and I'm SO effing stoked for y'all to read this one. Teaching Professor Grayson by me and Allison Cassatta drops in just a little over 2 weeks. (Pre-Order Here) or (Amazon) . So to get you guys stoked I am going to do Snippet Sundays to give a sneak peek at our boys, CJ and Christian.

So in today's snippet, out boys have been eye fucking for a while, but the whole teacher/student aspect keeps them in line...aside from some other issues that reveal themselves throughout the book. Christian, experiencing a low moment, had called CJ the weekend before this snippet.. and from there....


 

“Duck!” someone yelled out.Instinct made Christian squat behind his car, leather messenger bag covering his head. Two seconds later, a Frisbee whizzed by and skittered across the asphalt. He stared at the plastic disc wide-eyed, mouth gaping.“Fuck. Professor G. I’m sorry.”Christian blinked a few times before he realized he was standing face-to-face with CJ.“You okay?” his student asked.“Yeah. Um”—Christian nodded—“I’m fine.”CJ mumbled something incoherent, and Christian could have sworn he got a once-over. Though he couldn’t imagine such was the case.“Excuse me?”“Um, nothing, Professor G.” CJ rubbed his palm over the back of his neck and a brief flicker of embarrassment flitted through his eyes before he straightened up and smiled amiably. “Welcome back from… wherever you were.” Apparently he wasn’t going to bring up the phone call.“Tennessee,” Christian said. “I’m from Tennessee.”“Ah—” It looked as though CJ was having an epiphany. “—that’s the accent.”“Yes, it is.” Christian grinned crookedly. If he didn’t know himself better, he’d swear he felt heat in his earlobes.The smile faded when he thought about the last conversation he’d had with CJ—from the hotel room in Tennessee while Christian was in the middle of his breakdown. He wasn’t sure what he’d said. Most of it had to have been incoherent blubbering. Regardless, they needed to have a serious, mature discussion about it. He couldn’t afford to have his favorite student not respect him anymore. More importantly, he couldn’t have the school thinking something improper or inappropriate had taken place. Nothing could’ve been further from the truth.“CJ, I….” Christian thumbed over his shoulder toward the social sciences building “You think we could talk in private?”“No doubt.” CJ nodded before turning and trotting off to speak to some of the other guys who’d been waiting for him to return their Frisbee. After speaking to them briefly and signaling toward Christian, he received fist bumps and waved good-bye. He made his way back to Christian with a bag slung over his shoulder and his wonderfully heart-melting, toothy grin. His smile was as bright as the Florida sun, and just as warm.Without saying anything, Christian turned in the direction of his building, concentrating on the sound of CJ’s footfalls and his heavy breathing. They’d played hard, obviously, and it took a whole lot of effort on Christian’s part not to imagine his pupil all hot and sweaty, sliding across the grass, and….Christian cleared his throat when he felt the twitch between his thighs. He suddenly felt so incredibly wrong for picturing CJ the way he had, yet the visual didn’t seem to be in a rush to go away. His mind needed a change of scenery. Think about the essays.“Did you happen to bring the essay questions with you?” Christian asked.“I slid them under your door already.”“Perfect.”Well, so much for that.They reached the social sciences building, and Christian fished his key from the pocket of his jeans. CJ silently followed him inside the building.The walk down the hall to Christian’s office remained fairly quiet, save for the occasional squeaking of CJ’s sneakers on the linoleum. The noise would get louder, and CJ would try to walk softer. It was cute the way the rhythm changed, sped up then slowed. When they reached the office door, Christian stepped inside and turned on the lights, then hung his backpack on its trusty hook.He took a deep breath, smelling nothing but old textbooks and piles of paper, office supplies as old as him. A hint of his cologne still colored the stale air. It was good to be home again, good to be where he belonged.“About the phone call last night….”

CJ put a hand up and shook his head, smiling in the way one might smile at a nervous animal. “Really, it’s not a problem. You needed to talk.”Professor G looked particularly uncomfortable and—surprise, surprise—CJ didn’t know what to do with his professor’s agony. “We’ve all had bad nights.” Though, CJ couldn’t recall one that had him calling a random person to dump his issues. But that could’ve been attributed to him being completely emotionally unaware at times.“It was inappropriate. I felt I should apologize in person for… the whole weekend, really.”CJ had to control the scoff wanting to escape. “Inappropriate seems a strong word. It was just a shitty moment in your life. What’s it matter who you reached out to? It’s supposed to be a good thing to talk out feelings. From what I’m told.”“I just wanted to let you know I appreciate all you did this weekend.” CJ wasn’t sure why, but his gaze wouldn’t leave Professor G’s plump, pink lips as he spoke. Speaking of inappropriate.“There’s a line teachers aren’t supposed to cross with students and….”Words became meaningless sounds—blah, blah, blah. CJ was mesmerized by Professor G’s lips. They opened and closed. Opened and closed. The pink tip of his tongue peeked out for a split second. Oh God, stick it out again!The cheering squad checked in, and CJ’s brain checked out. Those lips were still moving.CJ thought maybe he was staring too much, so he tried to meet Professor G’s eyes, but they weren’t nearly as inviting. The deep blue was something everyone should be lucky enough to get lost in once. No. No eyes. So he looked elsewhere and was taken yet again with the way Professor G’s cheekbones displayed the lightest, most endearing tint of pink. Ugh.And the slight graying at his temples. Fuck.He managed to meet Professor G’s gaze once more but saw thinly veiled desire mixed with a heavier dose of embarrassment. CJ sucked in a sharp breath, then found himself grabbing his professor by his shirt and yanking him in for a kiss.

That's it for this week guys! Don't forget to check back for more on Teaching Professor Grayson. Available for pre-order at Dreamspinner Press [Click Here] and Amazon [Click Here] , releasing everywhere November 21!


 GoodReads   |  Amazon  |  DreamspinnerComing November 21, 2014!

Teaching Professor Grayson: Excerpt

Here's an excerpt from my upcoming release with Allison Cassatte (Nov 21 on Dreamspinner. PREORDER HERE )

Chapter One“Your father ain’t gettin’ no better.” If ever a voice dripped with worry, Christian’s mother’s certainly did then. The quiver of her words. The raspiness of her tone. She sounded utterly exhausted. How long had she been at the hospital this time?“I can get away this weekend,” Christian said, rubbing his hand across his furrowed brow, looking over the stacks of papers he hadn’t graded and the essay questions he hadn’t finished composing.The I thinkremained implied.Truth be told, Christian Grayson, professor of sociology, didn’t have time to put his life in Florida on hold to go back to Tennessee. Students needed him. The school needed him. However, Christian Grayson, first son of Pastor Richard Grayson, would make all the time he needed for his family. Because good children made sacrifices for their parents.“I can fly out Friday after class,” Christian continued, arranging a plan in his head.“I think that’ll be wonderful.”“Then that’s what I’ll do.”“Christian?”His murmured name finally stilled him. He stopped shuffling papers. His body turned rigid. Her once warm, motherly tone was now laden with sadness. Sadness and worry.“Pray ’til then?”The plea gripped his heart like a tightened fist. His mother had always been such a strong, inspiring woman, with an unwavering faith in God. Now… well, she sounded as though she’d already lost the love of her life.“I promise, Mom. I’ll see you Friday. I love you.”“I love you too, Christian. Be safe.”With those soft words left between them, Christian hung up his phone and all but melted into his chair. The weight of the world was firmly planted on his shoulders, pinning him down in his seat. He leaned his forearms on his messy desk, clenching both hands together. Thanks to a blossoming headache, he imagined his brain in the same sort of vise.A soft rapping at the door pulled Christian away from his internal breakdown. He raised his head to find a student standing between the jambs. She was a bright girl with a sparkling personality who could’ve used a bit more clothing and had a good chance of making something of herself if she stopped using her sexuality to get ahead.“Miss Morris.” Christian sat back and squared his shoulders, folding his hands in his lap like his father used to do when he was about to school his son on being a proper man of God. “How can I help you?”“May I come in?”“Please.”She did, sauntering into his office like a streetwalker. Christian only made the connection because of the black skirt barely covering her bottom. Her spiked heels were so high she would’ve towered over him by an easy inch had he been standing, and Christian wasn’t a short man. Not quite six feet tall, but close enough.When she sat down, she made a show of crossing her legs. She leaned her elbows against her knees, pushing her breasts up into the V of the skimpy plaid top she wore. It might have looked nice with a black sweater to cover the parts better left to a straight man’s imagination. But Christian wasn’t interested.“How can I help you?” he asked, hoping she would drop the seductiveness. Somehow, he knew he wouldn’t be so lucky.“Well, remember I told you I needed help with my women’s studies assignment?”Nodding, he recalled how odd he thought it was for her to ask for hishelp. He wasn’t sure what he could do, but Christian never said no to a student.“Miss Morris, what exactly is the assignment?”“I have to write a paper on women in religion, and I’m trying to do something fresh. Something thathasn’t been drilled into the ground a million times already.”“And you’re asking me because…?”She frowned, straightening in the chair. Her cleavage no longer peeked from the neckline of her plaid blouse. Christian silently thanked God. He’d been uncomfortable since she’d walked in the door.“Don’t you have a theology degree?” she asked.“Well, yes, I do, but I—”“Then you’re the only person I know who can help me with this.”Was now the time to tell her he’d been raised in a home where the woman knew her role—mother, homemaker, unwavering supporter of her husband? While his mother was always strong in his eyes, she still followed the roles society and the Bible prescribed for her. He wasn’t the man for this particular job. Not at all.Christian sighed. “Miss Morris, I—”“But, you’re a believer,” she objected. You go to church.”Maybe, but being a believer and going to church didn’t mean he had any right preaching to her, especially not in the case of a woman’s role in the church. He wasn’t even sure hehad a proper role in the church anymore. What about abominations? What about sodomy? About his being gay? He had no right speaking to anyone about God. Right?“Professor Grayson?” Miss Morris reached across the desk. She laid her hand over his. Worry washed over her face. “Are you okay? You paled.”“I’m fine.”He pulled back, tucking his hands in his lap again. When had he sat forward? When had he leaned his elbows on his desk? Christian never did such a thing. It was a no-no in the Grayson household. His mother would’ve scolded him terribly.“Miss Morris—” Christian cleared his throat and cleared his head. “—you need to determine your subject on your own. Do some research. Come back to me when you have an idea of what you want to talk about. I will gladly help you, but I’m not doing the paper for you.”“I understand.” She nodded.She stood, squared her shoulders, and poked out her cleavage—as if he hadn’t already seen enough. “I really wish we could work on it together.” She pouted. No doubt the look had seduced many unsuspecting men, and maybe if Christian liked thatsort of thing….Licking her lips, she pressed both palms down on his desk, leaning in to, again, highlight her ample cleavage. “Or we could get dinner and talk, or—”“Such a suggestion is highly inappropriate, Miss Morris.” But I wouldn’t be interested if it wasn’t.“I’m sorry.”“You’re dismissed.”Without another word or a moment of hesitation, she made an about-face and click-clacked her way out of Christian’s office with surprising speed, considering the height of those heels. Christian lowered his eyes to the picture of his family: his mother and father, Ashley, his baby brother, and his sister, Linda.His father looked so healthy and virile, so full of life, in the photo. It was taken more than a decade ago, right before Christian had left for Florida in hopes of making a new life for himself, in hopes of finding himself and finally being honest about who he was inside.Now here he was, ten years later, with nothing to show for the move save for a pretty good job. He hadn’t fallen in love, and honestly, hadn’t really tried. The idea of being out and proud seemed like such a ridiculous notion, what with all the God Hates Fags propaganda blowing up the media. The idea of a deity he revered hating him, not to mention the danger of soiling his family’s good name, made shoving himself to the back of the closet so easy to do. So much for being honest with himself, for being the true Christian Grayson. Thatman had yet to show his face.And now, to add more fuel to a blazing fire, his father’s cancer had reached the point the doctors had been promising for months. The time no one looked forward to was finally upon them.The family’s patriarch, their anchor and their shepherd, was sick and dying, and there Christian sat chastising some desperate child over her inappropriateness. It seemed so unimportant now. Before, the only thing he had ever wanted to do was mold young minds and create freethinkers. He wanted a better future for men and women like him—those who loved the same sex but were too afraid to own their sexuality. He’d wanted to help build a new world, a world where people could love God and be gay and no one would bat an eye. Now, he only wanted to be there for his mother and father, even if they didn’t know the truth their son hid from them.He turned his eyes toward the ceiling, toward off-white corkboard tiles and fluorescent lighting, and silently asked God why his life had to be so difficult. Why couldn’t he have been blessed with the simplicity of being straight, with uncomplicated ideals he shared with his family? He could be harvesting corn or green beans rather than dealing with the inappropriateness of oversexed twentysomething children. His brother and sister had spouses and children already. They had homes in Tennessee, close to the farm, and they worshipped in their father’s church. Christian was the outsider. He was the one who had to be different, even though he’d spent nearly every night of his young adulthood praying to be normal like them.With a sigh, Christian ran his fingers through his hair. The older he got, the coarser it became. He was starting to find slivers of gray mixed in with the chocolate brown. Those tell-tale grays even sprinkled the faint dusting of hair around his jawline. He was getting older, old enough his parents expected him to be settled down now, and while he wanted to be, it seemed so much easier to lie and say school kept him too busy than to tell them he was gay.Another tap at the door tore a groan from Christian’s lips. None of this was out of the ordinary, and yet today he wished for something different. He wished he could get a minute alone to deal with everything tornadoing through his head.“I’m sorry. I can come back,” the person in the doorway said.Christian’s head jerked up. His gaze landed on the one person he wouldn’t mind talking to right now—a man who he’d grown fond of over the past three years or more, a student who’d proven his genius, whom Christian respected.“No, please. Come in,” Christian said, righting himself in his chair.CJ’s smile did Christian in, made warmth radiate from his heart and through his limbs. If a single curl of lips and flash of teeth could brighten an entire room, CJ’s could. And Christian’s mood brightened right along with it.



CJ hesitated a moment before walking into Professor G’s office. Poor guy didn’t look too good, his face a little pasty, when CJ had first knocked. “You sure? I can come back if now’s not good.”Professor G sat up, smiling brightly and squaring his shoulders. “No, please. I was just resting my eyes for a second. What can I help you with, Mr. Hata?”CJ struggled not to roll his eyes. Not only had he told Professor G not to call him Mr. Hata—he’d been in the man’s classes for over three years—but Professor G mangled the pronunciation of CJ’s last name every time he said it. CJ blamed his need to correct people on his father’s being so particular about the way Americans slaughtered Japanese words. If CJ were totally honest, he’d admit he liked the way Professor G’s Southern drawl made his name sound like “Hawt.”Hot.If only Professor G saw him that way. CJ would’ve gladly done any number of things—all those things failing students did with the promise of an easy A—without expecting anything in return. He’d spent three years looking at those broad shoulders in every manner of farm-boy-cum-edumacated-man button-down shirt. And nothing was quite as distracting in an advisory meeting as those piercing blue eyes. Or maybe it was the lips. Or—“You needed something?” Professor G’s smile hadn’t dimmed; he looked more amused than anything.Shit.“Oh, yeah. Sorry. I just… zoned out.” CJ mentally kicked himself. This was about graduation. If there was one thing he would in no way jeopardize, no matter how sexy the professor, it was his education.“I saw something on my transcript I needed to ask you about.”“Of course. Let me pull it up.” Professor G rolled his chair closer to his desk and moved files around until he unearthed a keyboard. He clicked rapidly over the keys, pounding out in loud succession a series of letters and numbers that eventually granted him access to the records of every student in his care. It seemed to take fifteen forevers. When the sound ceased, the professor shifted his eyes toward CJ.What the hell was he looking at? Why were his cheeks turning pink?Oh. Wait. Maybe because CJ had his bottom lip sucked between his teeth like a baby with a freakin’ pacifier. Yeah. Professor G was so cute, though CJ was as sure a guy who had to be close to forty wouldn’t enjoy being called cute any more than CJ liked being called a “twink” at twenty-two.Get. Your shit. Together, Hata.He shook off his crushing man crush as best he could as he made his way to one of the chairs facing Professor G.“Oh, I see.” Professor G turned a sardonic glare CJ’s way, and it was CJ’s turn to look embarrassed. He’s seen your incomplete in music appreciation. “Music appreciation,” the professor said drily. “Again.” And drawly.Focus.“I thought you said if I did those other electives….”“CJ. You’re the onlystudent I know who has grades like yours and doesn’t want to take the easiest elective at this school.”“It’s Dr.—”“Dr. Fielder. I know. ‘He’s incompetent, obviously uneducated, and not worth his tenure.’”Well. Fuck Professor G for his perfect imitation of CJ’s snobbery. “It’s not polite to mock people.”Professor G laughed. It was a joyous sound, and he looked much better than he had when CJ walked in, but he wasn’t sure he liked the professor’s joy being at his expense. He chose to believe the professor was laughing becauseof him, not at him.Regardless, CJ glared at him. “It’s not nice to mock your students, is it?”“Even if it’s true?” Professor G arched a brow.CJ snorted. “What? That the man is a hack? Of course it’s true.”Okay. So maybe CJ was a bit judgmental. No newsflash there. But Professor G closed his eyes, smiling and shaking head. So CJ couldn’t help but think if his being an ass made someone else’s day better, why change it? Right?“Okay. Well. How do I get out of this?”“CJ, you don’t. You need to register for the class. You’ve still got three days to get a spot.” Professor Grayson looked back at his computer screen, clicked his mouse a few times, then gave a triumphant “You’re in.”“Thanks,” CJ grumbled.Professor G looked back his way, expression much more serious this time. “CJ, we’re friends, right?” CJ raised his brow. Yes, friendsis what they were. CJ wished it were more, but he could live with the fact that he’d earned enough of the man’s respect over the years to be on a more personal level with him.They’d worked on committees, been two of the few volunteers for most of the student government events. Professor G had recommended CJ to the education center where CJ worked as a tutor. There’d even been the one trip to a political debate they’d organized for the sociology department. Unfortunately, only five people had decided to go, so it wasn’t an official trip, but CJ and Professor G ended up hanging out and discussing politics and the social relevance of the events the speakers had gotten on their soap boxes about long after the others in their group had dwindled away.Now, CJ helped more than Professor G’s paid TA, equally to stare at the man and to pick his brain. He was smart and timidly funny, if not a bit unwordly for a man his age.So, yeah. They were friends, albeit in a strange and more formal setup than CJ liked.“Friends. Yeah, we’re friends.” CJ groaned when he realized what was coming. “Oh, no. Dude. This is where you do the ‘Professor G is disappointed in CJ’ thing?”Christian smiled warmly and rolled his eyes. “Of course it is. You’re too smart to have to take another semester because of one elective, a very simple elective at that. I’ve helped you slide by, but you shoot down all the others.” Because they all suck. “Can you please just take the class and play nice with Dr. Fielder?”“I don’t—”“For me?”CJ blinked.Oh, but there was a list from here to Timbuktu of the things CJ wouldn’t mind doing for Professor G—none of which included anything remotely close to taking a stupid class and playing nice with Dr. Half-wit. Nope. His list contained items that had little to do with academics… or clothes. CJ couldn’t stop the blush or the way his tongue flicked out to wet his lips.Professor G’s eyes widened slightly and he hurrumphed before averting his gaze and shuffling papers. “I’m running out of excuses for bypassing their classes.”Definitely overthought that one, dumbass. “Okay.” CJ also averted his eyes, scratching the back of his neck and trying to play off his stupidity. God, he hoped his cheeks weren’t too red. “I’ll do the class.” He snatched his book bag up before he could do anything else to make himself look like an idiot.“Would you do me a favor?” Professor G’s soft, almost expressionless voice stopped CJ from disappearing back into the sea of students shuffling down the hall. He raised his head, shooting a glance over his shoulder. “There’s somewhere important I need to be this weekend and I’m already running behind. If I gave you a list of topics I want covered, could you maybe put together some good essay questions and hand them to my TA by Monday? You know this material well. Better than him, even.” The last bit was mumbled, probably not meant for CJ to hear. The grave look Professor G had been wearing earlier slid back over his face—skin pale, eyes dark. CJ wanted to ask what the hell was up, even waffled between being blunt and asking the question or hinting around about his professor’s look of certain doom.“Yeah. Sure. I can handle it.” CJ frowned. “You okay?”“Mhm….” The sound was an acknowledgement. Not an answer to the question. And Professor G wouldn’t look him in the eye.

We Found Love: Coverage & Blurbage

Thought you guys might be interested in seeing the official blurb for mine and Allison's second book, We Found Love, that'll be releasing via Dreamspinner Press in January so here...and the cover (by Allison) again, too:

 We Found Loveby Kade Boehme & Allison Cassatta

"It’s no surprise Riley Connors is dealing with issues. He was kidnapped as a young boy, and his parents abandoned him after his newsworthy return. He bounced from foster home to facility and back. Now an adult, ghosts from his past continue to haunt him. After a suicide attempt, he is locked away in Hartfield so that people can make him tune in to emotions he has tried to bury.Hunter Morgan had the kind of love that spans ages. But the stress of college and adulthood became too much to handle, and the love of Hunter’s life turned to drugs. After he overdoses, Hunter finds himself soaring out of control on the same miserable path. His brother finds him and calls an ambulance, and the sister Hunter would rather not have calls it a suicide attempt, landing Hunter in Hartfield.Finding love isn’t easy, but it can happen under the most dire circumstances. Together Hunter and Riley may be able to grow from their pain. But they will need to learn to live for themselves, letting love come second."

Good Enough

Good Enough went through a re-edit and has been re-released :) It's also available in paperback, now. You can get it on CreateSpace today or Amazon in the next few days. Also, don't forget that Going Under (Keep Swimming #2) is available now in paper back HERE .

Good Enough by Kade Boehme

 After three years in Chicago, Payton Grady returns home to Seattle to take a job as a paralegal in his friend’s law firm. After arriving, he sees a gorgeous club kid who accidentally leaves an interesting scarf behind at the bus stop. In a silly attempt to locate the owner, Payton’s best friend places an ad on Craigslist. Two years later, Payton and his friend are shocked to receive a response from the erstwhile club kid—his ex-boyfriend from college. 

Noah Di Cicco has been wracked with guilt since college when he crushed Payton. His insecurities destroyed their relationship. Six years and the experience of a rock bottom have changed Noah. 
Payton is drawn to Noah and how much he's grown. Now that Noah knows he’s good enough for love, both men remember what they had, while moving past the hurt they caused each other so long ago. Maybe they can be good enough together.

BUY HERE