A ripped, dark-haired young man sprawls against some shelves. Shirtless, his dirt-encrusted abs exposed, with his fly unzipped, his dirty jeans have slipped down to his thighs, revealing white designer briefs and teasing mesh fly. On the shelf behind him, are storage boxes full to capacity, a small portrait of a serene, dark-skinned man rounds out picture frames, loose photographs, and pair of a heavy-duty work gloves.
It has been one of THOSE days where everything goes wrong from the start of the morning until the end of the day. Besides the alarm clock malfunctioning, my hair has decided to defy gravity in clumps today taking on many intriguing shapes while the rest of my hair lies flat and behaves.
Something clearly has happened to my boss last night. He is so prickly it’s like he has a stick so far up his ass that I can see it in the back of his throat as he yells at me. (My job: up to you but hopefully very dirty and physical)
And while everything is going to shit and I am at my worst who walks in but a virtual GOD of course!
Can you help me win him even not at my best? (oh please no kids and if there’s a rescue scene that brings them together that would be great!!)
Genre: contemporary, with a small mystery
Tags: blue collar, graduate student, interracial, cross-dressing, Aboriginal history, antiques
Word Count: 16,635
Thank you ever so much to Sara Winters’ Goodreads: The Collective, the M/M Romance Don’t Read in the Closet team, and my amazing, not so quietly suffering betas: Eric Alan Westfall, Astrid, Anna, Jay D. Clark, and most especially, brutal and generous Kiracee, and my editor Raevyn. All errors are mine. Big hugs to Goesta Struve-Denscher, I miss you.
The historical portions of this story are constructions of real historical accounts; Angus and Reynard, alas, are figments of my imagination.
EVENT: Love’s Landscapes