Friday, May 13, 2016

Playlist Blog #2: C. Garrett

Good morning, good morning! It’s Friday…the 13th, no less. Thirteen’s always been a lucky number for me and today it’s a lucky day for you, too. Today’s guest C. Garrett is offering up a playlist and…I just found out that the book The Neighbor’s Son is currently FREE for a few days. So…bonus!

Happy Freaking Friday, Folks. I’m happy it’s Friday. This week has been full of somewhat hilarious events (unless you’re actually me). I’ve been bruised up and banged up, most current was when I dropped my iPad on my foot yesterday like a mini guillotine. That bruise goes nicely with the ones all up and down my legs from climbing on the washing machine last week to see why it was leaking, and the one on my arm where I got tangled in my own pj pants on Mother’s Day and fell over like a giant redwood and banged my arm all to hell on the dresser. And oh yeah! Last night I smacked a fruit fly on the wall and our giant clock fell off, crashed down, hit my wine glass, shattered it, and glass and wine went everywhere. [HULK SMASH!].

I think I might download a free book today, wrap myself in bubble wrap, and hide from, well, everything, until Monday. J

Be safe out there! Or in there! Just be safe…




Broken Crown: Mumford and Sons
Dark Days: TD Lind & Bernie Larsen
Day is Gone: Noah Gunderson and The Forest Rangers
If I Ever Leave This World Alive: Flogging Molly
Black: Karri Kimmel
Goodnight, Travel Well: The Killers

The Neighbor’s Son: A Gay May/December Erotic Romance

After forty year old Ladd Mason’s husband dies, it takes him months to care about anything again. During his grief the home they shared turns to ruin. He finally makes it a priority to put things right. It’s a big job for one man, and he recruits the help of his neighbor’s son, home on college break, to get the job done. He knew twenty-something Damon Green was looking for odd jobs, but much to Ladd’s surprise, the young man is looking for so much more than the chance to earn beer money.

“I think I need to move this, Ladd,” Damon said softly.

“Yeah,” he tried but his throat clogged. He cleared it harshly and stepped forward. “I’ll do that,” he said. He hated how his voice sounded. Rusty and wounded. It made his heart ache worse than it did every time he glanced at the picture. It showed Ladd and Christopher grinning from a fishing pier. It had been there first vacation together to Key West. They’d gone back every year until Christopher’s health made it impossible.

His hands were shaking. He took the frame and gently placed it on the table. Ladd found himself convulsively swallowing to keep the tears that threatened so violently at bay.

A large warm hand closed on his shoulder and squeezed. “Hey, Ladd, you know it’s okay if you cry right? I remember, even though I was really little, my mom crying a lot and often for a long time after my dad died. Years, even, if my memory can be trusted.” Damon squeezed again, a comforting touch, and went on. “And to tell the truth, sometimes she still cries for him. Especially, this time of year. The holidays can do it every time.”

Ladd felt himself nodding and nodding, relentlessly. He felt stupid and out of control but couldn’t seem to help himself. He set the picture frame on the dining room table. When he turned, Damon surprised him by pulling him in for a hug. He was much younger than Ladd, so it startled him that he was so much taller. He hadn’t realized. Damon tucked his head atop Ladd’s and his arms grew impossibly tight around him. Ladd stiffened for just an instant and then, caught off guard by the sudden ferocity of his grief, relented and hugged the young man back.

The caring gesture had a calming effect and Ladd was relieved that he was able to pull himself back from the brink of a crying jag so quickly. When he lifted his head to thank Damon he caught a look on his handsome face for just an instant before another unexpected thing happened. Damon kissed him. Ladd’s heart beat turned to a staggering beat when he found himself kissing the boy back. Meeting Damon’s soft mouth with his own. He knew he should stop, but felt powerless to stop.

When he felt Damon’s fingers brush the zipper of his jeans, he froze. Ladd took a step back, a hand planted on the boy’s broad chest. Beneath his fingers he could feel the runaway beat of Damon’s heart.


Damon’s eyes were intense up close. Vibrant green with flecks of hazel, blue and gray. Ladd thought he’d never seen eyes that intricate before.

Damon cupped the back of Ladd’s head, tugging him in for another kiss. Just as their lips met, he said, “Shh. Just let me make it better. No one should hurt for this long alone.”

It’s wrong. So, so wrong…Ladd’s mind raced. But it didn’t feel wrong. It felt welcome and gorgeous and warm. The first time he’d experienced those things in too long to remember.

Damon’s hand brushed up his zipper again, making his cock jerk beneath the touch. Damon popped the button with amazingly deft fingers and drew the zipper down. Ladd struggled for breath, trying to process that this was actually happening. And should he let it continue?

He pulled back, stilling the hand on his zipper. He felt the hard brush of his fingers and Damon’s pressing his aching cock. His breath was fast and harsh, his mind fuzzy with longing.

“I can’t do this. I’m paying you. You’re my neighbor’s son!”

Damon cocked an eyebrow and moved his hands. He planted them on Ladd’s shoulders. Ladd felt the absence of them on his fly. Felt the lust he’d experienced earlier ramp up a notch or three.

“You’re paying me for this,” Damon said, waving a hand at the walls and the paint supplies. “Not that. Look, Ladd, I’ve known I was gay since I was twelve, my mom’s known since I was thirteen. Now…” He sifted his fingers through the hair at the back of Ladd’s neck and it provoked a shiver. The shiver made the younger man smile. “Now you know. Okay?”

C. Garrett lives on the east coast in a tiny house ruled by a big gray cat. A true hermit, C. has yet to dip a toe in the social media pond, focusing instead on telling tales of people falling in love. There’s usually a cup of tea and some window gazing involved.


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