Contemplating Friendship

Cactus One

I am going on a two week vacation starting on Thursday. I’m looking forward to visiting with very close friends who I haven’t seen in forever! I’ve reached a pivotal birthday this year, and I decided life is too short not to seek out friends that feed our creative selves. Friends who are a joy to be with, who energize the people they associate with because they are warm, open and positive.

I’ve been very lucky to have met some very great people – and to forge some deep friendships. Soulmates in a way, and I’m talking about a connection that goes beyond the physical or sexual. Someone when you first meet and they just ‘get you’. Rare and special and worth nurturing.

When I write romance, I like my couple to be friends, even if they get off to a rocky start. Sure, the sex is always good, because it’s romance, right, but to be truly satisfying, there needs to be a deep connection and a synergy between the two lovers. I’m editing my Woodland Village series to republish the on Amazon. I’ve finished Blue Skye and Ryan’s Harbor and now working on John’s Match. John and Scott have a very rocky start to their relationship!

Here’s a bit of an excerpt when John does a good deed and brings home Scott’s drunk son. Scott doesn’t see it that way:

Scott slipped his hand under his son’s arms and lifted him to his feet, his glare pinning John. “What the fuck did you do to my son?”

John snapped, having enough of playing Good Samaritan. “Saved him from being road kill. I found him drunk, blocking my car door. I didn’t want to leave him stranded in a parking lot.” He wouldn’t mention what his son had been doing on his car.

“That’s not what it looks like to me.” Scott peeled back his son’s eyelid, practically growling. “He looks stoned. What shit did you give him?”

John stepped back. “I don’t take drugs or give them to unsuspecting men.” He bit back using the word “twink.” He hated that particular term. Nothing was wrong with young healthy men wanting a good time.

Even under the dim light, Scott’s eyes blazed. “My son isn’t some goddamn rent boy.”

“Jesus Christ, man. Aren’t you listening to a word I’m saying?”

Rob groaned, and his head wobbled on his father’s shoulder. “Don’t feel so good…” Then his head thumped down, and the guy passed out.

“I’m putting him to bed. You”—he pointed to John—“stay put.”

John bristled under the command. He should get the hell out of there, but the bastard was his neighbor. All he needed was all-out war between him and this asshole.




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