Excerpt from my next M/M release, ‘Waiting for Rain’
My new M/M release should be out in November. I’m waiting for confirmation so don’t hold me to that. But I thought I’d give you a little teaser of the first few pages to see what you think.
This is the longer blurb…
When Toby Prentiss, Hotel Manager at the Duck and Drake in rural Stamford, meets hunky Rain Engel , master carpenter, in the hotel, there is a definite spark between the two men. From a heated kiss in the hotel’s lost property room to assignations in a garden shed and a rather raunchy session on a haystack, it’s surprising that their passion for each other doesn’t set the stack on fire.
Despite very different backgrounds , the two men begin a relationship that starts to develop into something deeper. Rain has been hurt in the past and he’s very wary of getting involved again. Toby comes from a broken background and he’s had to learn everything the hard way. But when he gives himself to someone, there’s no holds barred. And when Rain’s ex lover turns up to convince Rain to take him back, things get a little stressful. Toby’s past comes back to haunt him and the two men find they have a lot of soul searching to do. But it’s only when the small town erupts in an act of violence against one of them, that true feelings are bared and they have to come to grips with the extent of their feelings for one another.
And here’s the longer excerpt. This is still a WIP (Work In Progress) and has some editing to be done but I don’t think it’s too bad really…
Chapter 1 Toby
I’d never realised what it felt like to be ‘at the end of my tether’ before. I knew the expression, having looked it up in an idle moment once when I was bored. The Cambridge Dictionary defined it as ‘having no strength or patience left’ and UsingEnglish.com said it was’ to be at the limit of your patience or endurance.’ Both of these phrases were true. Personally I preferred ‘fucked off beyond all restraint and ready to kill.’
I gritted my teeth, my jaw aching as the little old lady in front of me waved bejewelled and gnarly fingers in front of my face. I wanted to bite them off one by one, watch as they fell into little white and bloody strips onto the very expensive carpeting we stood on. The hotel owner wouldn’t like that one little bit. Not the fact I’d bitten her fingers off but the fact that the blood may stain his carpeting. He was no fan of Esther either.
“Young man, are you even listening to me?” Esther Mountjoy’s face was like crinkled crepe paper, her tone haughty. Faded blue eyes gazed out of a face that was immaculately painted. Her thin lips were twisted in a grimace of displeasure that I wasn’t hearing what she was saying. People passing by in the plush hotel entrance glanced at us curiously. Some were even loitering, waiting to see how the whole ‘square off’ would turn out.
I’ve been listening to you for the last ten fucking minutes, you homophobic, ignorant cow.
My face formed into what I hoped was a reassuring smile and not the visage of a psycho axe murderer wanting to strike the woman’s head off her shoulders. Preferably with a blunt axe. “Mrs. Mountjoy, of course I have. You’ve made your point loud and clear. But I’m sorry. I can’t ask these two people to leave the hotel simply because you don’t like the fact that they are –how did you put it? Oh yes, ‘poncy nancy boys’. I’m afraid this hotel has an open policy on things like this and we won’t judge people who wish to stay here based on their sexual preference.”
My friend and receptionist Tammy watched me carefully from the elegantly panelled wooden reception desk. She peered over the top of her very prim and proper glasses. I think she was getting ready to pull me off the lady patron standing in front of me should I decide to go completely insane. I wanted to pick up and use the stone vase sitting innocently yet alluringly on the polished oak side table in the foyer and bash this woman over her immaculately coiffed head.
“But they’re queer, Mr. Prentiss!” Esther hissed, scandalised, her eyes darting around the busy reception area, no doubt for fear someone might hear her utter a taboo word. I wanted to break into song and chant the old Northern maxim ‘there’s nowt so queer as folk’ but I didn’t think that would help.
“They are two gay men who have paid to stay here like everyone else, Mrs. Mountjoy.” My smile was starting to crack, my hostility level rising.
Christ, I was so bloody sick of this attitude. I’d faced it all my life.
“Mr. Wren and Mr. Carmichael have every right to be here.” I clenched my hands by my sides, my fingernails cutting into my palms. Out of the corner of my eye, Tammy twitched and half stood up from behind her position at the reception desk.
“Then I shan’t be coming back here, if people like that are allowed to soil these beautiful premises with their presence.” Her satisfied, smug words sent an immediate jolt of fury to my chest. “It’s scandalous, that’s what it is. That God fearing folk like me and Mrs. Wainwright have to put up with that disgusting filth in the same place we lay our heads at night. Isn’t that right, dear Selma?” She turned to the tall, spare, woman standing quietly at her side who looked uncomfortable at her proclamation. Her eyes were raised to mine almost in apology. Selma Wainwright had always been open minded as far as I knew. My head pounded at the description of two gay men as ‘disgusting filth’.
My temper rose and I groaned inwardly.
Keep it loose, Toby. For God’s sake, don’t go bloody ape shit. Not here.
“Well, Esther, darling, the man does have a point. They have paid-“
“Selma!” Esther was totally floored. “You don’t mean you agree that they should stay here?” Selma’s face coloured and she lowered her eyes. A man chuckled in the corner and I glanced over. He was on a mobile phone and I didn’t think he was laughing at the event taking place.. In my present mood I would have whacked him with said vase as well.
“Mrs. Mountjoy-“ My strangled voice cut off as I felt a firm clasp on my shoulder. My boss, the hotel owner, Simon Winslake, stood beside me. His firm grip on my shoulder was both a warning and a comfort. His smooth baritone echoed through the hallowed entrance of the venerated Duck and Drake Hotel.
“Mrs. Mountjoy. Mrs Wainwright. May I ask you to come with me to the Orchid Room where you can enjoy a lovely afternoon cream tea and we can talk about what it is that concerns you? I can assure you that young Toby here is only carrying out my wishes. Perhaps you might like to address your worries to me personally, so I can let him get back to his job.” Simon’s voice had always sounded like sherry to me, rich, warm and dark with a hint of smokiness. He was the complete stereo type of the English gentry. About forty, tall, handsome and wiry, with dark brown hair streaked with silver, tanned cheeks and dressed to kill in a tweed suit which looked casual but which I knew was from Daks.
I’m a twenty seven year old gay man. I know good tailoring when I see it. I felt both peeved that I hadn’t been able to let loose on the woman standing before me with the gleam of victory spread across her features, but also relieved that Simon had stepped in when he had. I nodded at him slightly and his eyes smiled at me warmly. I felt a surge of affection for the man. He was always there for me when I needed him. He was my mentor and a good friend. He touched Esther Mountjoy’s shoulder and she preened. I scowled.
What would the stupid woman do if she knew she’d been touched by a bisexual man? Go home and take a bloody shower and use her pumice stone to scrub her wrinkly skin? Simon was bisexual but kept his dalliances with men private from choice. Only a select few knew of his sexual proclivities. I was one of them. I wished I could tell her so she’d scrub so hard she bled bile.
Simon continued. “Now do come with me, ladies, and let’s see what we can do about all this. I’m sure we can come to some amicable agreement.” Simon shepherded the two women off towards the richly decorated and extremely plush Orchid Room in the other wing. I watched them go, breathing a sigh of relief. I unclenched my hands and frowned when I saw crescent marks etched into my flesh. One of them was bleeding. I licked it absently then felt a hard punch on my back. I scowled and looked around to see who was abusing me.
“God, Toby, don’t be so disgusting. You’re licking blood off your hand in public, in front of guests.” Tammy stood behind me, her pale face smiling, her eyes watchful. “Come on over here and let’s chat.” I was unceremoniously pulled over to a small room behind the Reception desk which served as our office.
“I need to get back to work, Tam,” I started to say, but she frowned and held my undamaged hand tighter. I sighed, knowing it would do no good to argue. The woman was a pit bull. Instead I followed meekly and when we were in the office she looked at me.
“Are you all right, sweetie? God, that woman was such a bitch. I honestly thought you might rip her throat out.” Her brown eyes regarded me through the lenses of her designer glasses, her slightly rounded face full of concern. Tammy Whittaker was my best friend and confidante. We’d know each other for nearly four years now, ever since I’d been at the Duck and Drake in the lovely town of Stamford in Lincolnshire. Tammy had been here five years, having arrived here as a green twenty year old and making herself indispensable. There was very little that went on that Tammy didn’t know about. I was well versed myself in the workings of the hotel, having started out as a hotel porter when I was just twenty three. I’d worked my way up to the position I’d held now for three years as General Manager. I was proud of that accomplishment at the tender age of twenty seven. When I’d seen where I’d come from, I think I had that right. I nodded at her.
“Yeah, I’m fine. I was getting riled so it’s lucky that Simon intervened when he did. But I should have been able to handle it, Tam. It’s what he pays me to do.”
“I don’t think he wanted blood all over his hotel, Toby,” Tammy said wryly. “And if he’d left you with her, he might well have had buckets of it.” She touched my cheek, looking up from her five foot four height into my six foot frame, reaching up to plant a warm kiss on my cheek.
So what do you think? Does it grab you, want to make you read more? This is also my first foray into the world of first person POV and the chapters alternate between Toby and the man who still has to make his appearance, the sexy Rain Engel. And boy does he drive poor Toby crazy….
If anyone fancies reading a chapter from Rain’s POV, leave a comment and let me know. Then perhaps I’ll post something that gives you a little bit of insight into who Rain is.
Thanks for reading!
