Holly Day, Nell Iris, A.L. Lester and K.L. Noone have written a gay romance novella each to celebrate World Letter Writing Day, and today you get to read an excerpt from A.L. Lester’s Reading it Wrong! 

Reading it Wrong

Paul Cranford regrets asking Louise and Darcy Middleton to let the kids from his class have a look at the fifteenth century letter they’re selling at auction. If it hadn’t been for him, it would never have been in the theatre overnight to even get stolen in the first place.

Darcy isn’t keen on Paul Cranford. He’s never quite got over the way Paul knocked him back when Darcy tried to ask him out. But when the letter is stolen from the theatre and Darcy is hurt in the process, Paul steps up to help him and he starts to understand him better.

Getting back the letter means they get to know each other better. Will that date Paul turned down happen after all?

A date turned down. A stolen letter. A reminder that nerds don’t just play board games. Reading It Wrong is a gentle M/M romance set in the small-town world of Theatr Fach.

Buy Links:

JMS Books :: Amazon

Excerpt:

Darcy had been pondering all evening … would it be creepy to ask the guy out again, even though he’d turned him down once already?

He’d concluded that maybe it would be, but hadn’t yet decided whether he was that slightly creepy guy or not. Probably not. But … he was going to sleep on it.

It had been a long day and he was tired. The swish-swish rhythm of the mop, swirl in the bucket, twist out the excess water, swish-swish, swish-swish, repeat was hypnotically soothing in a weird kind of way, set against the murmuring chat in the background from the one remaining table.

He was nearly asleep on his feet when the alarm went off. It shocked him into dropping the mop over the bucket with a clatter and swinging round in confusion.

“What the fuck is that?” Dave, one of the boardgames guys was asking as he got to his feet. “Fire alarm?”

“No,” said Darcy, turning back to face them. “It’s the burglar alarm.” He didn’t know the second and third guys at the table. “Stay put, I need to …” he didn’t get to finish his sentence, because all the lights went out.

“Shit,” he said. The other guys were expressing similar sentiments. He fumbled in his pocket and got his phone out, using the torch to illuminate the area with a weak light. It was better than nothing.

“I need to see if anyone else is still here,” he told his companions. “I don’t think there is.” His eye flickered over the group. “Where’s Paul?” he asked.

“Went to the Gents. I saw Lacey go out about five minutes ago,” Dave said helpfully.

“Shit,” Darcy said. “I’ll call her mobile.”

She was probably already driving … she didn’t pick up. He left a message and then sent a text as well. The alarm was shrill and shrieking in his ears, making thought difficult.

“Can you turn it off?” one of the guys whose name he didn’t know asked.

Darcy shook his head. “No, we’ll have to wait til the coppers get here. The alarm company will have called them. And hopefully get in touch with Lacey, and Luke as well.” Luke was the Production Manager, Lacey’s second in command. Darcy tried his number too, but it went straight to voicemail. He was probably in The Dragon with the theatre company, there was rubbish signal in there.

He picked up the mop and bucket and moved them out of the way in the inadequate light of the phone. “I should go and check the doors,” he said. “It’s weird the lights have gone off.”

“You should probably stay here if it’s a genuine break-in,” Dave said. “Rather than hunting for burglars.”

“Point,” Darcy said. “But … oh shit! What if they’re after the letter?”

“The letter?” Dave hadn’t been here this afternoon.

“The medieval letter … it’s being auctioned tomorrow. It’s still in the Small Hall.”

They had discussed putting it back in the bank, but had decided against it eventually. The case, the room, the wing of the theatre and the theatre itself could all be locked. And there was the alarm.

Which was still shrieking.

“Dave, could you go and see if you can pull Luke out of The Dragon?” Darcy asked. “He has the alarm codes. I’ll wait for the police.”

“Sure,” Dave said. “He’s the tall, dark-haired guy, isn’t he? The one in charge?”

Darcy nodded. “He’s usually got a leather jacket, and maybe a twink with him.”

Dave snorted. “Yeah, I know Alex.” He turned to the other two. Are you guys all right staying here with Darcy until the coppers turn up?”

They both nodded. “Sure,” the shorter one said. “No problem.”

“Do you think there’s really something wrong?” the taller one said as Dave made his exit, guided by his own phone torch.

“Yeah, I do,” said Darcy. “If it was a fault, the lights wouldn’t have gone off like that, surely? Or if it was a general fault, they’d have gone off at the same time as the alarm triggered.”

The taller one nodded. “Good point,” he said. “So, what are they stealing?” He waved an arm in the dim light.

“I don’t know,” Darcy said grimly. “But I’ve got an idea it might be …” He turned towards the entrance to the wing containing the Small Hall, which let off the far side of the cafe.

At that point the taller man grabbed him.

“What?” he had time to say, before the shorter one joined in and they had him face-down over the table, arguing over the top of him.

About A.L. Lester:

Writer of queer, paranormal, historical, romantic suspense, mostly. Lives in the South West of England with Mr AL, two children, a terrifying cat and a dog that eats things. Likes gardening but doesn’t really have time or energy. Not musical. Doesn’t much like telly. Non-binary. Chronically disabled. Has tedious fits.

BlueSky : Facebook Group : Newsletter (free story) : Website : Link-tree for everywhere else

Today, we have Frances Fox here to share an excerpt from her most recent release, Sounds Complicated, so read on!

RELUCTANT ROCKSTAR

Book #2 of the Reluctant Rockstar series

Author: Frances Fox
Editor: Lourenza Adlem
Release: 15th August 2023
Price: $3.99
ISBN: 9798223112495
ASIN: B0C4Q29SS5
KU: No
Wide: Yes
Series: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0C4Q8WZYZ
Amazon: https://a.co/d/cj0YBDy
UBL: https://books2read.com/SoundsComplicated
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/151648521-sounds-complicated

KEYWORDS

MM, Rockstar, Contemporary, British, Hurt-Comfort, Opposites Attract, Spicy.

TAG LINE

A pining drummer and a snarky sound engineer have been walking around each other for months…

BLURB

Heggarty’s Bow drummer, Mordant, sticks firmly to the adage ‘don’t screw the crew’. He’s seen bands crash and burn over something like that before and he’d rather not risk the band dynamic. However, he knows he’s attracted to the charms of Pink the sound engineer and he’d determined to keep him at a distance. He’s got no interest in becoming just a notch on his bedpost, anyhow.
Pink is surprised and a bit hurt that Mordant makes no secret of avoiding him like the plague. Mordant’s a quiet, laid back guy most of the time, but he only interacts with Pink to criticise his work. Pink’s decided it’s best to just try to ignore him. He’s got enough history with moody blokes that he doesn’t need to take on any more trouble. He just needs to get on with things.
When one of Pink’s exes shoves him and he falls down the stairs at work, though, he’s surprised to find Mordant the one who volunteers to take care of him. Mordant is surprised as well. Where will the two of them go from here?

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Frances Fox writes contemporary MM romance. The Rockstar series is a new eight-book series of novellas following the musicians, stage-crew and friends of Heggarty’s Bow. If you like to read spicy MM stories about vulnerable guys looking for love, she’ll have you covered.

Website: https://francesfoxbooks.co.uk
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/francesfoxbooks
Bookbub: https://www.bookbub.com/profile/frances-fox-e6fb0220-5282-4101-8467-cb11684c9176
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/stores/author/B0C4SY2W4S
Newsletter: https://subscribepage.io/He2jKq

EXCERPT

Chapter 1: Pink
Fuck. Pink could see the steps coming up to meet him as he twisted sickeningly in mid-air. Should he put his arms out to break his fall? Or not?
In the end he couldn’t stop himself. It was pure reflex. He heard his wrist break as his palm hit the floor and he swore as he slid forward down the remaining stairs.
Fuck. Arse. Shit. Wank-fuck-bollocks. That was going to hurt.
Sure enough, as he tumbled to a halt at the foot of the steps, splayed on his back like a latter-day Omega Man, looking up at the stage, the pain kicked in and he swore aloud.
“Fuck!” he said, lying there for a moment whilst the auditorium spun around him. “Ow! Ow ow ow!” His head hurt, too.
What the hell had happened? One moment he’d been taping the cables down to the steps and arguing in a low voice with Ant, who’d been trying to persuade him to go on another date…and then he’d been falling. Had…had Ant shoved him? He couldn’t remember.
He started to sit up, pushing up on the elbow of his good arm and blinking dizzily, but a hand landed firmly on his chest and held him still.
“Stay there,” a voice he recognised said.
He blinked again. “Mordant?” he queried.
“Yeah,” said Mordant. “Stay put, will you? I’m calling an ambulance.” The hand disappeared.
“What?” Pink said, outraged, struggling to sit up and failing. “Don’t do that! I’m fine!”
He collapsed back onto the floor, making a liar of himself.
Mordant looked at him, one eyebrow raised in that annoying way he had, and continued dialling. “Yeah, hello, ambulance, please,” he said. “The Fallow Arena…stage door. Someone’s fallen and hit his head…”
Pink stopped listening. Had he hit his head? He raised his non-hurty hand to feel his forehead and his fingers came away sticky. Oh. That was probably why he felt a bit dizzy then. Fuck, his other arm hurt.
“Ow,” he said, again, plaintively.
Mordant patted his chest reassuringly, still on the phone to the ambulance people.
Things went a bit blurry again for a while after that, but he was conscious throughout of Mordant’s big hand on his chest, warm through his thin t-shirt. “Stay with me, Pink,” he said at one point, patting his face gently. “Keep your eyes open, Sunshine.”
Pink struggled…it would be so very easy to drift off to sleep and if he was asleep, he wouldn’t be hurting. Then he blinked, suddenly wide awake. “Sunshine?” he said. “What?” Not a word normally in Mordant’s lexicon, specially where Pink was concerned.
His face drifted above Pink’s against the hazy background of the high Arena roof. “What?” His expression was innocent.
“You called me Sunshine,” Pink explained earnestly, trying to focus his vision.
“Nope!” Mordant widened his brown eyes in fake disbelief. “I did not. That’s not something I call anyone!” Let alone Pink, was the unspoken corollary.
Pink shook his head and then winced. “I know what I heard, Mordant. You did!”
Mordant gave him a small smile. “Keep your eyes open, Pink,” he said. “They won’t be long now.” He spoke into the phone again. “Yeah, he’s still awake and talking sense. Mostly. Five minutes, okay. I’m going to hang up. I’ll have to ring security and tell them they’re on their way. Okay. Thanks. Bye.”
He glanced down at Pink and then up to someone Pink couldn’t see. “Yeah, actually, could you go and tell the gate? And tell them where to come?”
Pink was suddenly aware that there was a ring of people around them, a respectful distance away, but still. Some of the other techs and the bass player of the Purple Lizards. None of the other Heggarty’s Bow people that he could see, though.
“Bollocks,” he muttered. “What am I? The support act?”
“Shhh,” Mordant said, patting his chest again. “They’re worried, that’s all. You went down with quite a crack.”
“Send them away,” Pink said, shutting his eyes. “They’re looking at me.”
“Keep your eyes open,” Mordant told him firmly. “And you lot, bugger off. The show’s over. The ambulance guys are here.”
After that it was all can you move your thumb? and how many fingers am I holding up? and who’s the Prime Minister?
“That fucker!” Pink replied, which must have been good enough, as the EMT peering into his eyes with a little light laughed at him and said, “That’ll do, you’ve got all your marbles!” She switched off her mini-torch and stuck it back in the pocket of her overalls, continuing, “I want to take you in, though. I think you’ve got a bit of a concussion. And that wrist is broken.”
Pink grumbled under his breath but there wasn’t much he could do about it with Mordant glaring at him from behind her shoulder. “Do I have to?” he whined, as they discussed getting a stretcher. “I can walk,” he told them.
“Uh-uh.” The EMT shook her head. “You’ve got a head injury. Let us get you on the stretcher.” He looked at her pathetically and she said, “Humour me, all right?” before turning to Mordant and asking, “Are you coming with him?”
Mordant looked momentarily nonplussed, but before Pink could tell them he didn’t need anyone, he said, “Yeah, I will. I’ll need to tell Pete, hang on—” and stepped out of Pink’s sight.
“Come on then,” the bossy EMT said. “Let’s get you on this thing.”
They helped him to his feet and he was pleased for the aid. As he came upright, he was overcome with a wave of nausea that had nothing to do with the pain in his wrist, now wrapped in a soft, supportive splint. It was entirely down to the sickening, shifting sensation in his head. “I’m going to throw up,” he announced.
The second EMT expertly manoeuvred him so when he chucked up it was on the floor, not all over himself. He was shaking by the time he’d finished. Someone offered him a bottle of water and he took a sip and handed it back, before realising it was Mordant. Damn. He didn’t want anyone who knew him to have seen that. Too late now.
“Come on, let’s get you lying down again,” Bossy EMT said. “You’ll feel better then.”
He did as he was told, although she was lying, he didn’t feel better at all, he felt swimmy and hot and cold and nauseous. “I feel a bit odd,” he told her.
“Not surprised mate, you’ve got quite a bump on your noggin. You’re fine, though, just stay put and we’ll sort you out. Shut your eyes, we’ll wake you up when we need to check you, all right?”
“So he didn’t need to keep me awake?” Pink muttered.
“Don’t blame me,” he heard Mordant say. “I was only doing what the lady on the phone told me.”
“Huh,” Pink said.
He felt much better with his eyes shut. It was annoying not to be able to see Mordant, though. “You don’t need to come,” he told him again. “I’m fine. You need to get on and do the show. I gave you an extra monitor,” he told him. “You always bitch about the monitors. I found another one for you.”
He felt a hand pat his own. “I noticed,” Mordant said, looking gravely down at him as he opened his eyes. “It was very kind of you, thank you.”
“You’re only being kind to me because I’ve hurt my head,” Pink told him. “You don’t usually call me Sunshine.”
“I didn’t,” Mordant told him. “You imagined it. You’ve got a head injury.”
“I don’t want you to come,” Pink said. “I don’t want you to see me when I’m ill. You don’t like me anyway. It’ll make it worse.”
Mordant coughed. “Shut your eyes again,” he said. “You can now, remember?” He patted Pink’s hand again. “Do you want me to call anyone for you?”
Pink shook his head and then winced. “No,” he said. “No, thanks. No point worrying anyone. Mum and Dad live in Cornwall; they’d want to come up and it’s a stupid long way. Leave them be.”
“Boyfriend?” Mordant asked.
“No,” Pink replied shortly. “No-one. Stop fussing. Stay and do the show.”
“There’s hours yet,” Mordant replied comfortably. “I’ll come. It’ll be fine.” He turned to the paramedic. “I’ll go and get my kit and meet you at the wagon, all right?”
The paramedic nodded, talking to Mordant over Pink as if Pink wasn’t there. “Yeah, we’ll wait,” she said and looked down at Pink again. “Come on then, matey, let’s get you loaded.”