Stories

When artist and illustrator Louis leaves London and moves to his late uncle’s house in Northamptonshire, his intention is to simplify his life. He didn’t expect a cute painter and his toxic aunt, a burned-out ex who comes to visit but stays, and a grumpy gay policeman, not to mention men from his uncle’s dodgy past who seem to have criminal intentions and an obsession with an ancient artefact.

Today, with modern treatment and prevention, we often forget about AIDS and the toll it took upon the gay community. At the end of a long trip, Robert's final stopover is Minneapolis. There, he encounters a friend of a friend who had fallen to AIDS twenty-five years earlier. This is a sad story, and was difficult to write, and I've kept it on the back burner for over a year. Dedicated to a close friend who passed thirty-two years ago on his favorite holiday, Halloween.

This story completes a trilogy, following "A Class Reunion" and "Love, In the Ashes of Time."

Robert, a contract assassin, is asked to kill Senator Elias Hutchinson but refuses, wanting to leave his violent life behind. When another killer is hired for the job, Robert turns against his former employers, battling rival assassins, Chinese hitmen, a persistent Homeland Security agent, and a mysterious newcomer. As the threat from the organization’s leader, Mehment, grows, Robert races to identify and stop his replacement before it’s too late.

I'm Eli, an 18 year old university freshman. I join the school's gymnastics team in search of something new but find myself caught in a world of lust, dominance and kink that I never expected when I become entangled with my sexy Assistant Coach, Casper, all while hiding things from my equally sexy, straight, roommate, Mason.

Sam has cajoled and coaxed Max, and with the big day finally coming, he's footing the bill for a suit at a high-end menswear boutique. What neither counted on was the sleek salesman with the talented mouth offering one a very private fitting—while the other waits outside the dressing room door.

When your voice is too loud even to your own ears, then write the words down so they won't hurt that much.

So I realized writing helps more than talking, although I have no talent, I still want to call these poems.