TGIF everyone! We're in the middle of a snow event here in the greater Chicago area and I'm one of the lucky ones who get to stay home. I had to drive through this hellish weather for years, but now I can enjoy the falling snow from my home office since I've retired from the evil day job. There's nothing more conducive to writing than winter weather.
The 3 book giveaway ended yesterday and the winners have been contacted. Thanks to everyone for participating.
Today's preview is from my contemporary romantic thriller, Third Son. It has received some great reviews on Amazon, and I'd love to get a few more so it can be considered for an audio book. I don't know how you feel about the audio format, but I'm a huge fan. That being said, I know each day brings hundreds of new choices in the world of fiction, and I want to thank anyone who takes the time to read and review my work.
American Niall Monroe returns to Hong Kong—a city he calls home—after being away for eight years. He hopes to finally find happiness with Peter Wei, his closeted lover of fourteen years, but is disappointed to find Peter has been put in an untenable position. He must marry and produce the long-awaited grandchild or get cut off by his millionaire father.
Gerard Sun, a talented artist, bursts back into Niall’s life after a one-night stand in Las Vegas. Circumstances force the men to deal with their attraction, especially when Niall’s firm considers Gerard to help promote tourism in the People’s Republic of China.
James, Peter’s younger brother, has been Niall’s best friend since they were schoolmates. He encourages Niall to ditch his brother and move on. He encourages Niall to ditch his brother until he finds out Niall is thinking of dating Gerard Sun, a talented artist.
Coming home seemed like a great idea until it wasn’t. Niall finds himself a stranger in a familiar landscape, slammed on multiple fronts by broken promises, jealousy, intrigue, unimaginable deceit, and undercurrents of evil. As his dreams quickly turn into nightmares, Niall reaches out to new allies for support.
AT MY DESK the next morning, I thought back on Peter’s midnight visit. He was gone when I woke up. There was nothing to indicate he’d ever been there other than the used condom in the wastebasket by my bed. Even though he hadn’t left money on the nightstand, I still felt like his whore. He was getting worse instead of better. I pulled out my phone and sent him a blistering text, telling him to stay away. I was tired of his shit and determined to push him out of my heart.
My new resolve lasted about three hours, long enough for Peter to mount a counteroffensive. A messenger showed up after lunch with a gorgeous purple and white orchid in what looked like an antique celadon vase. I wasn’t a connoisseur of either orchids or fine porcelain, but I was a sucker for gestures, be they grandiose or sweetly romantic. The accompanying apology in his handwriting weakened me further. At least he’d had the decency to walk to the florist himself rather than sending a minion. When my phone rang about an hour later, I knew it was him.
“Good save,” I said by way of greeting.
“I’m sorry, Niall. Am I forgiven?”
“Only if you can explain what’s going on. Why are you more insensitive than ever? I thought things would be different this time, Peter. Are we regressing instead of moving in the right direction?”
He sighed. “I’ve got a lot going on you don’t know about.”
“Talk to me then,” I pleaded. “Why are you keeping me at arm’s length?”
“It’s local shit that doesn’t concern you.”
“Anything that bothers you is worth discussing,” I said. “If nothing else, I can be your sounding board.”
“Why don’t we do it over dinner?” he suggested. “Come to my apartment after work and I’ll wine and dine you.”
“I’m more interested in talking than eating.”
“We’ll get to that later.”
“Do you promise?”
“I give you my word.”
I looked at the appointment calendar on my desk and saw that my evening was free. Tomorrow was Gerard’s art show, which I still planned to attend, unless Peter proposed tonight. Righto. The odds of that happening were a zillion to one.
Making up my mind, I informed him I’d be there around six.
“That’s great,” he said, sounding relieved. “Niall?”
“Putting up with me for so long,” Peter said softly. “You’re a prince.”
My heart stuttered for a sec, then resumed a steady beat. I couldn’t remember the last time Peter said anything remotely meaningful. He must really be in a bad place if this slipped out so easily.
“I love you, Peter. You know I’ll always be here for you.”
“See you later,” he said, ending the call.
Hope split open like a ripe fig. Peter was emotionally stunted, and I was a fool for buying into his crap. Irritated, I turned my attention back to the job at hand.
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