Author: Rick R. Reed
Publisher: NineStar Press
Release Date: June 15, 2020
Heat Level: 2 - Fade to Black Sex
Pairing: Male/Male
Length: 60100
Genre: Contemporary YA, LGBTQIA+, high school, gender-bending, school play, performance arts, romance, young love
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Synopsis
Truman Reid is Summitville High’s most
out-and-proud senior. He can’t wait to take his fierce, uncompromising self
away from his small Ohio River hometown, where he’s suffered more than his
share of bullying. He’s looking forward to bright lights and a big city. Maybe
he’ll be the first ever genderfluid star to win an Academy Award. But all that
changes on the first day of school when he locks eyes with the most gorgeous
hunk he’s ever seen.
Mike Stewart, big, dark-haired, and with
the most amazing blue eyes, is new to town. He’s quiet, manly, and has the sexy
air of a lost soul. It’s almost love at first sight for Truman. He thinks that
love could deepen when Mike becomes part of the stage crew for Harvey, the
senior class play Truman’s directing. But is Mike even gay? And how will it
work when Truman’s mother is falling for Mike’s dad?
Plus Truman, never the norm, makes a
daring and controversial choice for the production that has the whole town up
in arms.
See how it all plays out on a stage of
love, laughter, tears, and sticking up for one’s essential self…
Excerpt
Bigger Love
Rick R. Reed © 2020
All Rights Reserved
“There’s a man in your room. I can smell
him.”
Truman Reid confronted his mom, Patsy,
in the kitchen. Early morning sun streamed in brightly through the kitchen
window over the sink, making Truman long for the relative freedom of summer
that was about to be put to rest that very day.
Patsy glowered at him from the stove
where she was scrambling eggs. She didn’t often get up to make him breakfast,
but Truman had figured—at least at first—that she was doing so because this was
Truman’s first day back at school. He’d be a senior at Summitville High. First
days of school had always been a source of high anxiety for Truman, who’d been
bullied and teased mercilessly throughout almost the entire four years. But now
Truman wondered if Patsy had risen early to fix bacon and eggs because she was
hiding a man in her room. You know, to distract him. This wasn’t a usual
experience for his mom, Truman was sure, and he wondered if he’d embarrassed
her. But he couldn’t help but wonder how a man in her room might affect his
exclusive hold on her. Would he still get her undivided attention, you know, if
this was a “thing”?
Of course, Patsy, lovely, diminutive,
with curly black hair and wide eyes, had every right to have a man in her room.
Even if that man smelled of cigarettes and motor oil. But she didn’t have the
right, Truman opined, to keep secrets from him. A mother should never keep
secrets from her boy, right? Wasn’t that one of those unwritten laws?
“That may be. Or may not be,” Patsy said,
giving the eggs one final push-around with a spatula before dumping them on a
plate. She sighed and eyed him. “I have a right to my privacy. You don’t need
to be privy to every detail of my life. I show you that respect and expect the
same in return.”
She’s reading my mind. Again. “Oh, I
didn’t mean to pry, Mama. I just wanted to say it’s okay if you did have a man
sleep over. It’s not like I would mind. It’s not like we’re not both adults
around here. We have separate bedrooms and separate lives.” Truman almost
choked on the words.
Patsy set the plate of steaming eggs
before him. Truman saw, to his delight, that the four pieces of bacon Patsy had
fried up before the eggs were all for him.
Patsy smiled, but there was something
just a tad bit evil in it. “Thank you, sweetie. I’m so glad to have your
go-ahead if I want to whore around.” She chuckled and returned to the counter
where she’d left her mug of coffee. She leaned against the counter, mug in
hand, and took a sip. Patsy was all of thirty-four years old but looked at
least ten years younger in the dappled morning light, and Truman felt a rush of
love for her. The bond they had was kind of a you-and-me-against-the-world one.
Truman felt he could say just about anything to Patsy, and he knew she felt the
same; witness the “whore” comment. What kind of mother said that to her son?
Truman wasn’t sure, but he was glad he
had one who did.
Besides, between raising him, which
could be, um, challenging at times, and working at the Elite Diner in
Summitville’s tiny downtown, she had little time for romance. Given that
Truman’s father was still a mystery to him—and to Patsy—he assumed that, once
upon a time, she did have her whoring-around days, but he’d seen little
evidence of them.
Until this morning.
“So who is he? Can I go take a peek? Is
he hot?” Truman laughed.
Patsy answered the three questions in
short order: “None of your business. No, you can’t. Yes. Very.” She took
another sip of coffee and tightened the sash of her white chenille bathrobe.
Truman noticed she was wearing a little makeup this morning—mascara, some
blush, a hint of lip gloss. She hadn’t overdone it. Truman would say she looked
“dewy” if she asked. “You need to eat up and get in the shower, young man. The
bus will be here—” She turned to look at the wall clock on the soffit above the
sink. “—in twenty minutes. I know you need your primping time.”
Truman dropped his fork to the table.
“Seriously? Only twenty? Good Lord.” He wrapped his bacon up in a paper towel
and headed for the single bathroom. Patsy blocked his way. “Since when do we
leave our plates on the table? What? You think I’m your servant?”
“Mom!” Truman whined. “You know I need
time to get ready. Please, please, please take care of it for me. I’ll love you
forever!”
“Okay. This once. And sweetie, I’d
thought loving me forever went without saying. But you cook and clean up
tonight.”
“Deal.”
Truman rushed to the bathroom, wondering
if Patsy would use the time to sneak her man out of the house. Too bad the only
window looked out on the backyard. It was frosted glass anyway.
He hoped his mom had found someone to
love.
He hoped his mom hadn’t found someone to
love.
It had been just the two of them for so
long, Truman didn’t know if he could cope with someone else vying for Patsy’s
affections. He felt a little sense of violation at the thought.
In the bathroom, Truman laid out on the
counter all the stuff a boy would need to make a suitable senior-year debut:
eyeliner, clear mascara, blush, and the lip gloss that added no extra color to
his lips but made them shine.
He stepped into the shower after
brushing, flossing, and exfoliating his face.
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Meet the Author
Real Men. True Love.Rick R. Reed is an award-winning and bestselling author of more than fifty works of published fiction. He is a Lambda Literary Award finalist. Entertainment Weekly has described his work as “heartrending and sensitive.” Lambda Literary has called him: “A writer that doesn’t disappoint…” Find him at www.rickrreedreality.blogspot.com. Rick lives in Palm Springs, CA, with his husband, Bruce, and their fierce Chihuahua/Shiba Inu mix, Kodi.
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