Recent Release - Driven Together by Neil S. Plakcy

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Book Title: Driven Together

Author and Cover Artist: Neil S. Plakcy

Publisher: Samwise Books

Release Date: February 23, 2026

Tense/POV: First person/past tense

Genres: Contemporary MM Sports Romance

Tropes: Slow burn

Themes: Second chance at love, coming out

Heat Rating: 3 out of 5 flames

Length: 81 000 words/301 pages

It is a standalone book and does not end on a cliffhanger.

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They were each other’s first love—and the one that got away.

Blurb 

When journalist Wally Pulaski reunites with his college sweetheart Jonathan Hirsch, now a Formula 1 driver, old feelings ignite with dangerous speed. Jonathan is fighting for the championship of his life. Wally is assigned to cover the season, reporting every triumph and failure to a global audience that demands objectivity. Falling in love again could cost them everything they’ve built.

As the Formula 1 circus sweeps from Monaco’s glittering streets to historic European circuits and roaring modern tracks, Wally is pulled deeper into a world of precision engineering, split-second decisions, and relentless scrutiny. Behind the glamour lies a sport where careers are made and broken in fractions of a second, where every personal choice is magnified under the spotlight.

Balancing professional integrity with unresolved passion becomes a high-wire act. Media pressure mounts. Rivalries intensify. And the closer Jonathan comes to his dream, the harder it is for either man to pretend their hearts aren’t still in the race.

Driven Together is a second-chance MM romance set against the adrenaline and international spectacle of Formula 1. Combining the emotional depth of Tal Bauer and the sports-romance energy loved by readers of Rachel Reid, it delivers an intimate story of ambition, identity, and the courage to choose love in a world that never slows down.

As the season intensifies and the spotlight grows harsher, Wally and Jonathan must decide what they’re willing to risk for a second chance at the love they never forgot. Because in Formula 1, every fraction of a second matters—and so does every choice of the heart.

Ten years after losing each other, they have one chance to get it right—and this time, the stakes are higher than ever

Excerpt

I looked at him, really looked. Jonathan Hirsch, Monaco Grand Prix finalist, sitting in a dive bar in Monte Carlo at midnight, asking me to take a chance on something that might be wonderful or might be a complete disaster.

“Okay,” I said.

“Okay?”

“Okay, let’s see where this goes. Barcelona to Spa, five races to figure out if we’re brave enough to make this work.”

Jonathan’s smile was radiant. “That’s all I’m asking for.”

He kissed me across the small table, soft and sweet and tasting like beer and possibility. Around us, the bar continued its late-night rhythm, oblivious to the fact that a Formula 1 driver and a motorsports journalist had just decided to rewrite their carefully planned lives.

When we broke apart, Jonathan was grinning.

“What?” I asked.

“I was just thinking,” he said. “Once, we were too practical to try long distance. Now we’re going to try dating while you cover my races. We’ve either gotten much braver or much stupider.”

“Probably both,” I admitted. “But you know what? I’m okay with that.”

We finished our beers and walked back toward the harbor, where the parties still buzzed. Jonathan tugged me toward the paddock. Behind the glitter, the Monaco Grand Prix was already vanishing, piece by piece. Crews swarmed over the cars with military precision, wiping them down, draining fluids, and sliding them into padded crates as if they were Fabergé eggs instead of machines built for speed.

The air still vibrated with leftover adrenaline. The sharp tang of fuel, the sweet stink of rubber ground into the asphalt, the faint bite of hot brakes cooling in the night mixed with the briny breeze from the harbor, a perfume of glamour and grit all at once. Everywhere I turned, there was motion and sound: the staccato crack of impact wrenches, the slap of gloves on metal, the hollow thud of crates sealing shut. Cables coiled like sleeping snakes at the workers’ feet as garage walls folded into flat panels and tool chests slammed closed, the paddock dissolving from carnival into pure efficiency.

I couldn’t look away. One moment it had been champagne and music and color; now it was stripped to bare bones. Somehow that made it even more impressive. The glamour was temporary, but the precision and the discipline was permanent.

I breathed it in, dizzy with the noise and smells and sheer scale of it all. My first Grand Prix was ending, but even in its aftermath I felt the pulse of something bigger than myself, alive and relentless.

“By morning, you won’t even know we were here,” Jonathan said beside me in his Meridian jacket. “Barcelona’s only a few hundred miles. The trucks will drive overnight, and the setup crew will already be waiting.”

I nodded, picturing cars cocooned in trailers, engineers and mechanics scattering onto buses and budget flights while Jonathan and his teammates slipped onto a private jet with their race engineers.

The Monaco Grand Prix was over, but the season stretched ahead. Twenty-two more races, five more chances to figure out if second chances were worth the risk.

About the Author  

Neil S. Plakcy is an award-winning author of sexy, fast-paced MM romances including The Big Race, about which Joyfully Jay wrote “A truly enjoyable read.” He also writes the Ormond Yard series of Victorian MM romances, and the Love on series of sun-kissed South Beach romps. His website is www.mahubooks.com.

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Hunter’s Hidden Camera by Anthony Auswat

NEW RELEASE

Book Title: Hunter’s Hidden Camera

Author: Anthony Auswat

Publisher: Point Liberty Press

Cover Artist: Vangega 

Release Date: April 1, 2026

Tense/POV: first person, present tense, single POV

Genres: MM Psychological Thriller

Tropes: Forbidden desire, taboo obsession, slow burn, secret crush, friends to lovers

Themes: Coming of age, coming out, gay awakening, voyeurism, sibling rivalry

Heat Rating: 3 flames

Length:  68 000 words/318 pages

It is a standalone story and does not end on a cliffhanger.

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A high school track athlete with a perverse hobby. A college heartthrob with a secret life. A dark gay m/m thriller that will stop at nothing until everyone gets exposed.

Blurb

Hunter seems to have it all: brains, biceps, and a bright future beyond the halls of his oppressive high school. He also has a private obsession that he knows is wrong: secretly recording his older brother, Nash, with a spy cam. It starts as a thrill and morphs into a power trip. But one day, the video footage reveals something so disturbing that it cracks Hunter’s life straight down the middle.

Now he’s trapped in a nightmare where desire leaves fingerprints, loyalty pulls triggers, and the brother he thought he knew might be the most dangerous person in the room. To survive what he’s uncovered, Hunter turns to his best friend, Oscar, who may also be the man Hunter never knew he needed.

When the family you’re born into puts you at risk, the family you choose may be the only thing that keeps you alive.

Hunter’s Hidden Camera is an emotionally charged LGBTQ coming-of-age psychological thriller about hunger, shame, and the brutal cost of exposure.

Smile for the camera.

Excerpt 

M y brother has Big Dick Energy. He walks tall, as if he’s purposefully stretching out his body, a real-life Mr. Fantastic, his head held high but kind of cocked to the side, like he’s sizing up the world and impressed with what he sees. His arms swing almost carelessly, taking up more space around him than he needs. He’s got very visible swagger, his right foot landing on the ground a bit wider than his left one, landing a little crooked, as a way to make room for the almost always noticeable bulge in his pants.

But despite all this, despite the way he carries himself, he doesn’t come across as arrogant. His confidence is quiet. You can see it when you catch a glimpse of him alone, like when he’s cooking salmon and vegetables for himself for lunch or when he’s shooting baskets in the backyard. You can also see it in the way he interacts with others: the ease with which he talks to people, familiar and strange, and the friendliness he brings to almost every encounter.

I mean, I guess if you have a dick that big, life is all sunshine and blue skies and you want to be friendly to everybody. God, I hate him.

It’s not that I have a micro-penis or anything. I think I’m proportional, or at least average, or at least almost average, but it’s hard to tell because most of the dicks I see are in porn and that’s not the real world. I’m eighteen, my brother’s twenty-one, and I have now resigned myself to the fact that I’ll never catch up.

I’m thinking all this while digging in one of my brother’s dresser drawers, the one with all his underwear in it. He rotates between boxer briefs, trunks, and briefs, all different colors, some with patterns. He’s got designer brands like Calvin Klein and Diesel, but he’s also got some targeted at the youth market, from stores like Abercrombie & Fitch and Hollister. There are also a few very basic Fruit of the Loom and Hanes thrown in there, probably left over from his high school days.

Sometimes I wonder if his underwear works the same way a costume works for a superhero. Peter Parker is just Peter Parker, but when he puts on his Spider-Man outfit he is a man transformed. He is more confident, feels more powerful. Same goes for Iron Man, Ant-Man, most of them. Is my brother just a normal person, brimming with insecurities and worries, whose BDE only turns on when tighty-whities are wrapped around him?

My brother (his name is Nash) is away at college, currently a senior majoring in business, and my parents are on vacation in Las Vegas, so I have the house to myself this morning.

I grab one of Nash’s white Calvin Klein trunks. I’m jealous that he can rock these like a model. He wouldn’t look out of place next to Noah Centineo and Shawn Mendes, who broke the internet when their hot underwear ads were released. Again, it’s not that I’m out of shape or some kind of freak of nature. I’m actually pretty fit, pretty athletic, and pretty much the best track athlete at my school. It’s just that compared to Nash I feel like nothing.

About the Author

Anthony Auswat is the author of dark, demented, and deeply gay thrillers, including The Teacher Inside Me and Hunter's Hidden Camera, which were viral sensations online before they were officially published. He draws from personal experience and transforms it into genre storytelling. He lives in California, where he keeps a low profile and a high body count.

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And Then He Pressed Play: Track One by Robert J. Halliwell

RECENT RELEASE

Book Title:  And Then He Pressed Play: Track One 

Author: Robert J. Halliwell

Publisher:  Triple Scale Publishing 

Cover Artist:  Harrold-Vincent Villanueva

Release Date:  February 28, 2026

Tense/POV: Past tense, third person limited, dual POV

Genres: YA coming of age, MM Contemporary 

Tropes: Fish out of water, Shy-Sunshine, Idiots in love, exchange student

Themes: Found family, bisexual awakening, first love

Heat Rating:  1-1.5 flames

Length:  338 pages, 80 000 words

It is part 1 of a duology. It has a HFN ending with some heartbreak mixed in since the exchange program ends.

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Blurb 

It's 2006 and Sixteen-year-old A.J. Walker is openly gay, painfully Canadian, and very much out of his depth. He’s wanted to do his school’s exchange program for years, but now that he’s landed at an all-boys school in Glenbridge Ireland—an ocean away from Moose Jaw Saskatchewan—he’s starting to question his decisions. Armed with nothing more than his trusty Discman and an accent that makes him stand out, A.J. has one goal: get through the Irish school year.

Born and raised in Glenbridge, Bren O’Shea has never known how to sit still or keep quiet. He’s also never known a day without laughter. Even when things get bad, Bren always knows how to get a smile out of someone, whether they asked him or not. His mam always says he needs to think before he acts, but as long as his heart’s in the right place, what’s the harm in a bit of impulse?

Glenbridge is the sort of town where everyone knows everyone—and unfortunately for A.J. once someone thinks they know you, it’s hard to change their mind.

After a rocky start that ends in disaster, Bren and A.J. need to decide if it’s worth reaching out to someone who’s so different from you—especially when one of you has to leave in June.

Excerpt 

Save me!

The chorus to “Bring Me to Life” rang in A.J.’s ears as he leaned against the damp, moss-covered wall at the far end of Glenbridge Secondary School. Even though the volume on his whirring Discman was cranked to the highest setting, it wasn’t enough to drown out the absolute bedlam that roiled around him. He’d thought his eleven years of attending school had shown him all the shades of feral guys came in, but standing to face the churning sea of testosterone before him, those years of experience all but melted away.

He couldn’t say for sure whether it was the fact Glenbridge had no girls to act as a buffer, or if his new classmates just didn’t come with volume knobs. Whatever the reason, he was doubting the wisdom of signing up for the exchange program with each passing second.

The main attraction stood at the end of the yard farthest from his wall. At least twenty guys, ranging throughout all the grades by the looks of them, were playing some sort of game A.J. had never seen before. Everyone carried strips of wood that looked like a cross between stubby hockey sticks and baseball bats. As far as he could tell, the goal was to balance, hit, or otherwise carry the baseball-sized ball from one end of the field to the other and get it past the goalie, all while being as loud as possible.

Separate from this unknown sport, groups of students stood in clusters throughout the yard. This wasn’t much different from what he was used to at first glance, but on closer inspection, each group was in a state of constant motion. Guys were speaking with their hands, elbowing their friends or slapping each other on the back with every other word. They seemed to communicate exclusively by shouting, with accents that A.J. had trouble understanding—even without the music thudding in his skull.

There didn’t seem to be another quiet person for him to approach. Not one other guy off on his own, reading a book, listening to music, or acting like they hadn’t downed about five cans of Monster.

A.J. rolled his shoulders, and the fabric of his uniform bit into his neck. He’d thought by making sure his clothes were in pristine condition before setting out that morning, he was applying a layer of camouflage. A uniform made things easier—or at least it should have.

To his dismay, it looked like everyone else had shredded the handout without looking at it. Shirts were rumpled, sleeves were rolled up, and despite the leaflet’s mention of neutral footwear, he spotted more than a few pairs of brightly coloured Nikes milling about.

In the brief lull between songs, his eyes fell on one of the worst offenders of this near-universal breach of dress code. Flame-bright hair stuck out at every angle across his head, like he’d rolled out of bed and walked straight out the door. His blue and silver striped tie was so loose the knot thudded against his sternum whenever he was in motion—which seemed to be his default setting.

He laughed as he peeled back the top of a yogurt lid and flung it with a casual flick towards one of his friends. It landed with a good stick on the boy’s breast pocket—right over the school crest.

A.J. was wondering how hard the first boy was going to get punched when the second one’s lip twitched. He grabbed hold of the lid and, with surprising dexterity considering the size of him, flung it back at the first boy. It landed between his eyes with a splat that A.J. thought he heard above his music. The rest of the group exploded with laughter as the redhead peeled the lid off, still wearing his crooked smile.

Without warning, the yogurt-covered boy turned from his group to toss the lid towards a nearby trash can. A.J.’s eyes darted away and came to rest on a patch of clover. Had the other boy seen him staring? Classes hadn’t even started yet, and he was already acting like a friendless loser.

He was a friendless loser.

His fingers found the dial of his Discman again, yearning to crank the volume up past its limits.

He’d all but decided to cut his losses and head inside early when he heard it. The sound of a muffled voice, far too close to be there by accident.

Shit.

A.J. let his eyes linger on the clover before dragging his gaze upward. Sure enough, there stood the boy from before.

A stray streak of pinkish yogurt clung to his fire-spun eyebrows where the lid had landed. Tiny beads of moisture glistened on his pale skin, shining among the freckles spread across the bridge of his sharp nose. It was impossible to tell whether it was sweat or not. If A.J. had learned one thing about Ireland in the two weeks he’d been there, it was that the humidity never dropped below chicken noodle soup.

A.J. fumbled with the dial while the other boy’s head tilted to the side, like he was trying to figure out the plot of a show he’d dropped into mid-season. With his music humming instead of roaring, A.J. shifted his gaze to meet the boy’s hazel eyes.

About the Author  

Robert J. Halliwell was born in the magical land of Canada during the age of butterfly clips and jelly sandals. He spent his formative years watching spooky movies and being jealous of Belle’s library from Beauty and the Beast. Many people don’t know Robert is married to an American Cyborg or that he’s secretly in possession of the two cutest cats in the world. He can often be found playing Dungeons and Dragons, knitting, or struggling to keep his garden alive.

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Bachelorx: a Nonbinary Memoir by Skylar Lyralen Kaye

NEW RELEASE 

Book Title: Bachelorx: a Nonbinary Memoir

Author and Publisher: Skylar Lyralen Kaye

Cover Artist: 100 Covers

Release Date: April 1, 2026

Pairing: Nonbinary protagonist/lesbian and trans love interests

Tense/POV: present tense/alternating POV.

Genres: Literary memoir with graphic and autofiction elements

Tropes: Friends to lovers

Themes: Coming out, Dating and sex, search for love, queer divorce, neurodiversity

Heat Rating: 3 flames  

Length: 319 pages

It is a standalone book.

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A 60-something nonbinary queer abruptly leaves a 35-year sexless marriage to go on the apps and date, bringing along all their very vocal personalities.

Style

Worth noting that Bachelorx contains both graphic elements and fictional/mythopoetic elements. It’s intentionally outside the box, aiming for a true representation of neurodiversity while including comedy.

Blurb 

When nonbinary Orpheus leaves their much-loved asexual partner Tobi after 35 years, they have never dated sober, never had a casual girlfriend and never had sober sex. At the age of sixty-two, they’re good at marriage and not at anything casual.

They’ve been living out and proud not only as nonbinary, but also as plural, filming a queer web series.

They’re completely unprepared for middle aged lesbians and their complicated desires. Romance, flirting, love-bombing, control, seduction, desire roll into Orpheus’ life and wake up every possible opinion among their many vocal and vulnerable personalities.

Their very painful history gets woken up in all their inner people, too.

As teenager personalities revel in the “queer prom that never was,” as Orpheus experiences a first kiss with a much younger trans person and then goes on to make out with a woman who confesses trauma in between flicks of her tongue, as child personalities run for cover and the wise inner yoga teacher Kaye warns that none of them are ready to date, Orpheus dog paddles through the waves of dysfunctional urge-to-merge dating.

Then two friends die and their landlord sells their building. Their now ex Tobi totals their car and breaks their own back. 

Will a Eurydice appear, Orpheus wonders, as they search the apps.

Then she does, with a lump in her breast, heart problems, a live-in mother, disabled son and a need for a partner who will hold on, listen and take care of her no matter what comes, as they touch in a rush of a second adolescent joy.

At week six, Eurydice’s at passion. At week seven, she’s talking about adding an addition to her house.

And Orpheus, who will say that they’re plural but won’t show it, who resists commitment only in their silences, goes to every medical appointment, every work occasion, every family party, as their personalities argue about whether to stay, whether to go, whether anything could possibly be right with this woman they can’t get enough of touching.

Every hero must journey to Hades. In the story of Orpheus and Eurydice, innocence is sacrificed to experience. Life walks in when you open the door. No matter your age or circumstances.

Excerpt 

Chapter 1: Becoming Everything

The child Orpheus comes forward in a memory of sunlight. Walking the long line of the green painted two by fours that top posts connecting a chain link fence, they follow its border behind the suburban homes of their Ohio neighborhood. They balance easily, their 1960’s striped t-shirt warmed by the light. Around them insects and birds raise voices for them to listen. They never fall. Held to the earth by tentacles of energy they send to every living being, they ask Gaia to become one with all life, just for a while, just until the pain eases and they can rise alone into a liminal sky, turning poems into songs.

Not boy, not girl, not feminine, not masculine, not straight, not cisgender, not singular, not a member of any tribe that will lay claim to them, Orpheus learns early to become everything. 

* * *

That pandemic spring, I slump over my computer late into the evening with colleagues in California, figuring out how to get actors to film themselves while crew observes on Zoom. Outside the window, the moon hovers over treetops and telephone poles. At the far end of the street the commuter rails screeches by, empty of people. Staring forward into the computer screen, I compare lighting between sets in San Francisco and Pottstown, Pennsylvania. My director of photography assesses eyelines as I give notes to actors before calling for one last take to wrap the day. A multicolored collage of queer bodies appears on the screen as close Zoom. Androgynous nonbinary bodies like mine, trans masc like my spouse, cisgender women, old, young, BIPOC, full-bodied, thin, allo and asexual, appear with a background of pink, people like the ones I interviewed and whose stories I tell. 

I stagger into the bedroom. Pull off my jeans and fall onto the bed in boxer shorts. My spouse Tobi stands near the entrance to the kitchen, tapping a foot on the floor, a stained green button down over their full belly. They stare, deep-set brown eyes burning toward me, toes pointed out, just a little bowlegged.

“Five minutes, Orpheus,” they say. “You could at least give me five minutes.”

“I have to sleep.”

“Then in the morning.”

“I have to work. You know I have to work.”

“Get up five minutes early.”

“I can’t. I’m too tired.” 

They stomp into the kitchen, bang some cabinets. I cover my head with a pillow. 

The next day, Tobi, now wearing a stained brown shirt—their ability to spill food on themself still confounds me after three decades—turns on the Biden-Trump debate at full volume. Stomping over the hardwood floors into the bedroom, I grab the clicker from where it lies on the bed.

“Everyone on Zoom can hear you.” I turn the television off.

They grab the clicker and turn it back on.

I turn it off.

They turn it on.

I turn it off.

“Watch on your computer or somewhere else,” I tell them. “I am WORKING!”

Abandonment issues meet workaholic artist.

Two days later, Tobi leaves to stay in an Airbnb so I can work in peace. Sleep in peace. Not be triggered. 

They stay away for a month. 

When they come home, I bring up polyamory.

About the Author  

Skylar Lyralen Kaye, fae/they is a queer, neurodivergent, social justice and award-winning writer as well as a lifelong activist. They have a BA in English from the University of Arizona and an MFA in Theater fromSarah Lawrence College.

Kaye was nominated for a Pushcart Prize in Fiction in 1997 and was a finalist for the 2005 Massachusetts Cultural Council of thebArts Awards in Playwriting. They have published in literary journals such as Calyx, Persona, Phoebe, Girlfriends, Happy Magazine and the

anthology Out of the Ordinary, Children of LGT Parents as well having published the novella Priest Kid and most recently the novel Leaving Winter for a Desert Sky. Skye has had multiple theatrical productions of their plays as well as performing as a solo artist and running the theater company Another Country Productions. Their most recent awards include the 2021 NE Film Star Award as well as 13 film festival awards for the web series Assigned Female at Birth. In 2018 they won Best in Fringe at the San Francisco Fringe for the one person show My Preferred Pronoun Is We, in 2017 the Moth Story Slam and in 2018 the Boston Story Slam. Some other awards include: the 2015 Meryl Streep Writers Lab for Screenwriters and the 2002

Stanley and Eleanor Lipkin Prize in Playwriting.

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Dark Justice by Janice Jarrell

RELEASE BLITZ

Book Title: Dark Justice

Author, Publisher, and Cover Artist: Janice Jarrell

Release Date: March 17, 2026

Pairing: MM

Tense/POV:  Third Person 

Genres:  Contemporary dark/suspenseful gay romance

Tropes: Married Couple, Hurt/Comfort, Protector/Protected, Found Family, Trauma Recovery, Healing Journey

Length: 84 791 words/ 283 pages

Heat Rating: 3 flames:

It is the first book of a new series, The Unbreakable Vow.

It can be read as a standalone and does not end on a cliffhanger.

Goodreads

Buy Links - Available in Kindle Unlimited

Amazon US  |  Amazon UK  

The world may be burning–but here, in this moment, there is grace.

Blurb

Joshua believes love can bring Colin home. And even from across an ocean, Colin hears it calling.

Colin Campbell–Abrams went to Ireland carrying a weight his pack could never hold. Grief he couldn't name. Guilt he couldn't shake. A marriage he loved too much to destroy with the pieces of himself that remained.

Ireland didn't heal him; it offered him the grace that allowed him to heal himself.

In green hills and strangers' kindness. In ancient stones that remembered centuries of pain. In thirty seconds of unexpected sunlight breaking through gray skies. In the slow, stubborn work of putting one foot in front of the other until the man he used to be began to walk by his side.

The road taught him something Joshua had been trying to tell him from the very beginning: You don't have to be unbreakable to be worthy of love.

Some journeys you walk alone—not to leave, but to learn how to come home.

Note: This book contains depictions of violence, injury, and the on-page death of a character.

Excerpt 

The taxi rumbled up the narrow gravel lane, tires crunching over stones still wet from morning rain. Colin sat in the backseat, his head resting against the cool glass of the window. Trees arched overhead—familiar, ancient. A canopy of green that whispered welcome in a language older than sorrow.

The driver pulled to a stop in front of a large yellow house at the edge of town. Smoke curled from the chimney. A lace curtain fluttered in the front window. She was waiting for him.

Aunt Aileen stood on the porch, wrapped in her thick wool shawl, hands folded in front of her like she'd been standing there for years—like she'd always be standing there.

Colin stepped out of the cab. Shouldered his bag. Their eyes met. She didn't speak. Neither did he. She just came down the steps and wrapped him in her arms. He sank into the hug like a man who'd been treading water too long. Let his head drop to her shoulder. Let the tears come—silent, steady, unstoppable.

"There now," she murmured, stroking his back. "There now, mo chroí. You've come home to us, so you have."

Inside, the fire was already lit—the kettle already whistling. His room was made up just as he'd left it. Just as it had been all those years ago—when he'd come here broken and grieving after Kathy.

Nothing had changed. Nothing except him.

That night, he sat by the hearth while Aileen knitted in her chair across from him. No questions. No conversation. Just the soft crackle of the fire and the rhythm of needles clicking in her lap.

He hadn't known how badly he needed the quiet until it wrapped around him like a balm.

Tomorrow, he'd walk the park trails again. Visit Ross Castle. Breathe the green back into his lungs. But tonight? Tonight, he was simply home.

Morning light slanted through the kitchen window, warming the scrubbed wood table. Aileen moved easily around the stove, the clink of porcelain and the hiss of steam familiar, comforting. She placed a pot of tea between them, then poured it into two mismatched mugs—just like she had when he was a boy.

Colin sat, hands folded around the mug. He hadn't spoken much since arriving. She hadn't pressed him.

That was her gift—presence without pressure.

"Sleep all right?" she asked gently, settling across from him.

He nodded. "Some."

Aileen studied him over the rim of her cup. "You've lost weight."

"I've lost a lot of things," he murmured.

The silence between them stretched—not uncomfortable, but thick with memory. Colin looked out the window, eyes distant. "I keep thinking how much he loves it here," he said finally. "The light. The quiet. The way the wind sounds different in the trees."

Aileen waited.

"God, Ahn-tee, I want him with me," Colin whispered, his voice choked. "Not for me. For him. Because this place... it heals things. And he's hurting too."

She reached across the table and covered his hand with hers. "You carry him," she said. "He may not be sitting in that chair, but he's here, mo mhac. In your blood. In your bones. In your heart. In every step you take toward yourself."

His throat tightened.

"I don't know how to come back to him," he said. "I don't even know if I can." He looked into her eyes, his own welling with tears. "And that terrifies me."

Aileen gave his hand a squeeze. "And sure, didn't you come back here all the same?"

He nodded.

"Then that's your start, mo mhac. This land knows you well—it hasn't forgotten. And it'll help you remember yourself, so it will."

Colin looked down at the tea. It smelled of bergamot and comfort and just... home. The ache in his chest didn't fade—but it softened a little. He thought of Joshua's hands. His voice. The way he would murmur 'mo ghrá milis' when no one else could hear, and a warmth stirred beneath the sorrow, born from the memory of that gentle voice and the life waiting for him across an ocean.

About the Author

My name is Janice Jarrell. I’m a retired IT tech and grandmother living in Port Angeles, Washington, near the Olympic National Forest. I have two children, three grandsons, and I’ve been writing gay romance since I was twelve years old—only back then it wasn’t called “gay romance.” In the fifties, it was worth your life to admit to being gay, let alone confess to being a girl who constantly fantasized about relationships between men. I didn’t even know what a homosexual was. I just knew I loved the idea of boy-on-boy romance. I was that kid on a farm in a tiny Michigan village, watching Tom Corbett and his Space Cadets and all those guys on Combat and thinking: there’s something going on here.

I wrote slash fanfiction for about 30 years and produced over 300 stories—some a hundred-word drabble, some sprawling novel-length series. The feedback I received from readers, and the community that formed around those stories, became the creative home I’d been searching for my entire life. I still bless the internet for leading me to that artistic oasis.

Love’s Magic was my first step into creating my own original characters, and from it grew the interconnected worlds of my Revolutionary Heart and Fearless Heart series, featuring Colin, Joshua, David, Nate, Trent, Jeff, and the rest of the gang. Those books—along with collections like Trial Runs, Glory Days, Relevant Justice, Heart’s Treasure, and Rainbows Still Glow—follow these men through love stories that are messy, hard-won, and always, always worth it. I’ve also written stand-alone tales like Under the Midnight Sky and Beyond the Rainbow: Stories from Camp Pride, and I’m currently working on Dark Justice, the first book in my Unbreakable Vow series.

Many of my novels and short-story collections are available as audiobooks on Audible and other retailers, bringing my characters to life in a whole new way for listeners who love to experience stories on the go.

It’s been an amazing thing to watch the gay community’s growth over these past decades. In many ways my own journey has echoed theirs, and I’m deeply grateful to the activists who fought to win the rights and recognition the LGBTQ+ community has always deserved. I’m equally grateful to the gay romance community—readers, authors, publishers, and promoters—who are making my retirement years the most creative of my life.

When I’m not writing, I’m traveling, walking, knitting, crocheting, and generally plotting more trouble for my characters. And for the record: no matter what I put them through, I am a firm believer in HEA.

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