It's Here! Not Alone: A Rock Star Yaoi, MM Romance!
So, a little bit about this book that you won’t find in the blurb. I came up with the idea for this novel while working from home during COVID. When I looked around my home office, the other side held several bass guitars, amps, cables, CDs and covers behind frames and the life my current partner was putting on hold during the pandemic – basically some of his sanity, his gigs. I decided from there to write a story about a rising rock star that depicted just how hard these guys really work, how talented they are and some of the things they sometimes give up for their dream.
Since I was sitting here at home, I also decided that this story would take place in a beach town where I called home back in the early 1990’s – Pacifica, California. It’s a magical place with a lot of mysterious fog in the summer and great surfing if you know which beach to go to, along with interesting hiking trails (WWII bunkers).
Now for Micah…I don’t honestly know where he came from, except that I wanted him to capture Ash’s heart even with all the hurt or maybe because of all the hurt he was going through. Ash in my mind had the drive and the know how to help him heal and in the process, gain the love he’d been missing in his life (sorry Wells, LOL). So, there you go.
There’s a raffle to win two of my backlisted books for free over at Rafflecopter. You can’t win if you don’t play!
If you haven’t subscribed to my newsletter yet and downloaded the Not Alone Prequel for free, you still can! Just saying…Plus, I have books releasing pretty much every month to two months (I’ve been busy), so you’ll always stay informed if you sign up:)
How about an Excerpt? Of Course.
Ash picked up the board, threw it under his arm, and strode to his backpack. As he set the board down, he glanced at his neighbor and flipped his blond hair up over one side of his head, the long ends splashing against the top of the wetsuit.
The neighbor hugged his knees tight with his head lowered.
“Hey, you sleeping?” He bent over the backpack, his hair dripping into dry sand.
The neighbor lifted his head.
A gust of wind blew over them, so strong it drove Ash forward.
The brim of the neighbor’s baseball hat fluttered and flew off, throwing the hood off with it, making his long, black bangs swirl up around his head. His gaze caught on Ash, the large, brown eyes, and thick lashes under straight brows, vulnerable, but intense. He lifted his face, every bit as perfectly laid out as if it were a doll, the cheeks holding a slight flush over porcelain skin.
Gorgeous. Ash whispered, “Holy shit.” He gawked, unable to move, his breath caught in his throat, his heart pounding.
The neighbor jerked around in the sand.
Ash blinked hard and scrambled for the hat. As he snatched it in his fingers, the perfect doll appeared in his vision again, this time gazing at him up close, too close. He plopped his butt in the sand, leaning on one hand, gaping at the vision in front of him.
The perfect doll sat next to Ash, lips parted, his dark, expressive eyes wide. “Uh, thank you.”
“Wh-what’s your name?” He stared at the doll, unable to look away, his heart thumping in his ears. Jesus, he needed to get a grip on himself.
“Micah.” His neighbor held out his hand.
He stared at Micah’s hand and placed his own inside it. He squeezed.
“Um, my hat.” Micah ripped his hand free. “Please.” He shimmied away from Ash. “Can you give it to me?” He dropped his head forward, letting the dark bangs cover his expressive eyes.
“Oh, yeah, sure.” What an idiot. As he flinched, he handed the hat to Micah, his other hand still tingling from Micah’s touch. He gulped hard and looked around him, fighting to find his voice, to calm the pounding in his chest. “Um…”
“You don’t want to be friends with me.” Micah placed the hat over his head and brought the hood up to cover it, then twisted around to face the surf.
“Wh-why wouldn’t I?” Did he hear that right? He stared at the back of Micah’s head.
“You just don’t.” Micah said, his voice unsteady, as if holding back tears.
And so, the rudeness was back. “Then why the fuck are you out here and not back at the beach in front of our apartments? You’re the one that told me to come here.” What the hell is wrong with this guy? He scowled at the back of Micah’s black, hooded sweatshirt.
“If you think I came here to watch your sorry ass surf, you’re mistaken,” Micah said, his voice wavering.
“Fine.” He didn’t need this shit from him. If Micah wanted to be like that, then fuck him. With a growl, he stood up, stomped back to his board and backpack, seized them up and trudged to his Jeep.