The Easy Way Out

Blog post days–what most people would refer to as “Tuesday”–come around way to often sometimes.

Sometimes it’s hard to think of something fresh and interesting to blog about every Tuesday. Especially when my brain has been mush for a few weeks now with so much work and life being what it is for all of us.

So, this blog post day, I’m taking the easy way out. I’ve given a synopsis and final book cover reveal on Twitter here…but how about a free peek at a scene from A STRAIGHT LINE (my next release, which I co-authored with J.D. Wade of THE ADVISOR fame)?

Below, you’ll find the book cover, synopsis, and a little sneaky-peeky to give you an idea of what to expect from the book.

Enjoy!

Harry looked positively unsettled from our interaction in the bedroom, which only made my eyes roll back in my head as I shuffled over and lifted myself up onto one of the empty stools on the other side of the island.

            “Drama queen.” I mumbled.

            “I’m sorry, darling.” Uncle Harry quipped, the highball glass halfway to his mouth. “Lower your voice. Everything is positively deafening over the whisper of your outfit.”

            Uncle Vic slapped at Uncle Harry’s shoulder reproachfully as he listened to the person on the other end of the phone.

            “I get it.” I grumbled. “My clothes are boring and plain. I’m a bad gay man. Shoot me.”

            “I would need to lay down drop cloths first, but you seem to be wearing them.” Harry sniped before taking another sip from his drink.

            “Sooooo bitchy,” I said.

            “My dear nephew,” Harry lowered his glass as Vic finished up his phone call, “I don’t point out the glaringly—and offensively—obvious fashion faux pas I see to not be called a bitch.”

            My eyes were rolling once again.

            “Thank you, that would be lovely,” Vic said into the phone. “Goodbye.”

            Vic pressed a button on the phone screen with his thumb and laid his phone down on the island before turning his attention to me.

            “You look handsome as always, Russ.” He smiled. “Don’t let this old fart tell you otherwise.”

            “Old fart?” Harry nearly choked on his drink. “I’m simply trying to get the boy to understand LSP, Victor. Is that so wrong of me?”

            “L…SP?” I asked.

            “Lesbian Safety Precautions.” Uncle Vic waved me off as he turned to Uncle Harry. “Stop it. Drink your bourbon and relax. The caterers will be here in thirty minutes. Things will be fine.”

            “It will be nearly six o’clock then, Victor!” Harry was scandalized. “The party starts at seven!”

            “Professionals can set up in minutes, Harry.” Victor reached over to pat his hand. “Stop worrying so much.”

            “Fine, fine.” Harry lifted his drink again, his head still wobbling slightly. “But you know Dan and Rafi will show up early enough to qualify as hosts.”

            “Just as I know Bang Bang will be hours late.” Uncle Vic agreed. “That reporter from The Gazette will be here at six-thirty to talk about the party and the end of an era.”

            “What’s Lesbian Safety Precautions?” I asked.

            Uncle Vic rolled his eyes as Harry sipped his bourbon.

            “Your Uncle here,” He jabbed a thumb in Harry’s general direction, “has a theory that the lesbians will absorb any wayfaring young gay into their inner circle and get them to do their bidding. He has a severe dislike of—”

            “Distrust!” Harry corrected him.

            “—distrust of lesbians.” Vic shrugged. “Though we count many as friends. It’s probably old age and senility, honestly, and—”

            “The year before I met your Uncle Victor,” Harry interjected, “I was spending a summer—”

            “Lord help us.” Vic sighed.

            “—in New York. I was very shy then—”

            “If you can believe that.” Vic added.

            “—and totally hopeless when it came to approaching other guys at the bars. So—”

            “Now he just drags them around the dumpster behind Taco Bell.” Vic winked at me.

            “—I struck up a conversation with a seemingly harmless lesbian—cute as a button, no taller than my shoulder, honestly—”

            “Which used to be higher.”

            “—if you don’t shut the hell up, Victor!” Harry snapped. Uncle Vic smiled at me, then turned to busy himself at the sink. “Well, we got to talking, one thing led to another, and I found myself in upstate New York helping a legion of lesbians raise a barn for some commune they planned to start. Upstate New York, Russ! To think of it now—”

            “I’m surprised you can remember it.” Vic mumbled.

            Luckily, Uncle Harry didn’t quite catch what Uncle Vic had said.

            “—makes me shudder. If it hadn’t been for their exceptional abilities in procuring weed and finding the best artisanal cheese shops, it would have been a total loss. Either way, I still returned home after summer with a bowl cut, two pairs of Dr. Martens from a thrift store, and still a virgin!”

            “Imagine.” Vic mumbled again. “That was once pure.”

            “I didn’t see a single cock the entire summer!” Harry stated with finality before raising his glass one more.

            “Don’t say ‘cock,’ Harry.” I winced.

            He gave a dismissive wave before slamming the rest of his bourbon.

            “Look, I’ll change if it’s that big of a deal.” I shrugged.

            “Don’t you dare, Russ,” Uncle Vic said, shooting a look at Uncle Harry. “Tonight is a celebration of being exactly who we are for the last forty years. You look very handsome.”

            “You look like you want to raise a barn and ruin my summer. Which could be my last.” Harry corrected him. “But I suppose Victor is right. This party is about all of us and not just your dreadful shirt. Maybe a nice kerchief or—”

            “I’m not wearing a kerchief.”

            Harry started to open his mouth again.

            “Or a pocket square, ascot or cravat.” I stopped him. “I’ll look like a rainbow if you had your way with my outfit.”

            Okay, so that wasn’t totally fair. Both of my uncles looked completely party ready without looking as though they were about to take the stage on a cruise ship. Uncle Harry, still wiry, but a bit shorter with age, had on black slacks, an emerald green button down, and a nice blazer over it. Uncle Vic, tall and broad, was adorned similarly, but red was his chosen shirt color. They looked like Christmas without the overdone parade. Without asking, I knew that they had coordinated with the other older gay men who were coming to the party so that they all wore a shirt with a color of the rainbow. I could imagine the Instagram pictures that would appear in the morning.

            “Let me just go see what I have that will suit you.” Harry was off his stool and out of the kitchen before I could object.

Tremendous Love & Thanks,

Chase