Arriving at Love’s Door

Book Cover: Arriving at Love's Door
Editions:ePub, Kindle, PDF

Will reconnecting after more than a decade apart rekindle their love? Or will they not like each other at all?

Unexpectedly, two-year college English instructor Joseph Rutledge gets a letter from Quentin Richards, the boy who sat in front of him at a charity school for wayward boys. Joe vividly remembers Quentin comforting him in fifth grade during an unprecedented earthquake. What could have been a lasting friendship with the boy he loved dissolved under Joe’s inherent shyness.

Little does he know Quentin too remembers the traumatic day of the earthquake and has relied on his memories of Joe’s comfort to buoy him during rough times. After recovering from a debilitating incident at the Olympics, Quentin’s keen to get together with Joe and writes to ask him out.

Will their memories of each other be enough to spark a relationship? Or do they each remember a person who never really existed?

Available on:
Publisher: JMS Books (https://www.jms-books.com/)
Editors:
Lourenza Adlem
Cover Artists:
Written Ink Designs
Genres:
contemporary, MM, romance
Tags:
college graduate, community college, contemporary, earthquake, future, gay romance, LGBTQ+, MM, non-series title, Olympics, renewing old friendships, runner, second chance, second chance at love, second chance love, small town romance, track and field
Excerpt:
    • Twelve months later, the dreaded annual performance review weekend of looking back at the past year and forward to the next one began Friday night with a welcome dinner. The Mogrovejo and Paredes Counties Community College Consortium managed seven two-year colleges in a predominantly rural area in the Northwest United States.

 

    • Since I graduated from college, I’ve taught English composition at two of the colleges and probably would until I retired.

 

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    • Attending the yearly recap, team building, and planning for the future was required for department heads such as myself. It was an extremely boring two days for those of us who’d been-there, done-that for the past eight years. Same people, same problems, no additional funds, no real hope for the future except for incentives the individual instructors could give their students.

 

    • At least the new area casino which was sponsoring this year’s symposium offered more entertainment than listening to my fellow instructors bitch and moan during the session breaks.

 

    • We had convened in the hotel foyer and had been milling around, talking about the casino and by-passing discussions of the recession year and the consequential budget shortfalls. A call to dinner had galvanized us into a booze-fueled crowd ready for food.

 

    • Following behind a group of others who were chattering away, I was stopped at the door to the dining room.

 

    • “Dr. Joseph Rutledge?”

 

    • Although I never got my PhD and am not a doctor, I nodded and stepped out of the way of the crowd which was moving toward the white-clothed tables and uncomfortable-looking chairs.

 

    • “I’m here to escort you to your seat at the head table.” He pointed at the stage.

 

    • “Oh, uh, no. There must be a mistake. Um, I’m not speaking or presenting or anything. I’m not even a PhD, a doctor. I think maybe you should check your records.”

 

    • When he looked down at the paper in his hand, I melted into the crowd and found a seat next to an English instructor from another college.

 

    • The scuttlebutt around my table was the Consortium had scored a coup by landing a well-known athlete to head up a new, revolutionary regional sports medicine program.

 

    • The women at the table were excited because according to rumor, even though the new program director was a man, he was an advocate for women athletes and their education as well.

 

    • Finally, the hall doors closed and the lights dimmed, signaling everyone had made it to the ballroom and was to be seated. The casino had opted to serve us. No plodding buffet lines this year. But as we settled down, no waiters hustled into the room with trays of food. Instead, the PA system clicked on and a shrill screech assaulted us.

 

    • “Ladies and gentlemen, may I have your attention?” As if the noise hadn’t already made us sit up and react. “Will Doctor ...” the sound of a hand covering a microphone, “Will Mr. Joseph Rutledge please come forward to the stage? Mr. Joseph Rutledge?”

 

    • Reluctantly, I rose as everyone looked around for the mysterious Mr. Rutledge.

 

    • “Joe! What in God’s name ...?” my fellow instructor started to ask.

 

    • I shook my head in bewilderment.

 

    “I have no idea.”

 

COLLAPSE

Fragile as Glass

A scrying stone says after his gift is destroyed, a famous songwriter will fall in love. Will the stone’s prediction come true?

Glass artist Ashton Snell is delighted when superstar singer/songwriter Hunter Davidson walks into his shop looking for a gift for a friend. On a whim Ashton looks through a scrying glass to see what’s in store for Hunter in the future. The stone shows a vision of the glass unicorn gift shattering and Hunter falling in love. Should Ashton tell Hunter what he’s seen?

Before he can decide, Hunter asks him to lunch. Ashton agrees although he’s surprised someone as celebrated as Hunter would want to be seen with him. Despite living with it since birth, Ashton is still self-conscious about his limp. Hunter, however, doesn’t seem to notice it.

Could their lunch be the beginning of a lasting friendship? Or will their attraction turn into something more?

Published:
Publisher: JMS Books (https://www.jms-books.com/)
Editors:
Lourenza Adlem
Cover Artists:
Written Ink Designs
Genres:
contemporary, MM, romance
Tags:
contemporary, family, future, gay romance, glass art, glass blower, lampwork glass art, LGBTQ+, MM, musician, non-series title, novella, rock star, San Francisco
Excerpt:
    • I handed him the bag. He put his hand over mine for a few seconds, long enough to make me shiver and wish I was someone else. Someone who could attract a man like him.
    • “When do you take off for lunch?” he asked abruptly.
    • The question was as surreal as the entire encounter had been. I shook myself.
    • Since it was a few minutes past twelve, I had planned to close the shop and eat after he left. The sign at the door said the shop was closed from noon to one, which was mostly true. I was a little nonplussed about his question and what I should answer.
    • “No, wait. That’s not what I wanted to ask.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Would you go out to lunch with me? Now? Today?”
    • He looked pleased with himself, which was funny because he was a well-known celebrity, one of those performers who people recognized even if they couldn’t remember his name. I was flattered. And flustered. No, a thousand times no. But wait. Why not? I couldn’t come up with an answer. This was a once in a lifetime chance.
    • “Uh, yeah, sure.” I tried to keep my internalizing hidden. Between my clamoring thoughts and pounding heart, I wasn't sure I could. “I just need to lock up since I’m the only one here until later.”
    • “Great.” He beamed like I’d done something to make him extraordinarily happy.
    • As I turned off lights and made sure the shop was secured, he strolled around the displays again. The first time, he’d seemed intent and focused on finding the perfect gift. This time, his fingers tapped lightly against the sales bag as if he were drumming to a song only he heard.
    • Without his stage makeup, he looked like an ordinary customer, which startled me. Weren’t superstars a breed apart? His status as an icon was slipping. I was enchanted by the change.
    • His onstage signature curly, floppy, brilliant red hair was now cropped short and looked almost mouse brown in the low light of the shop. Without eyeliner, his face was ordinary, unremarkable. His jeans, T-shirt, and blazer, all in shades of blue, were the uniform of men over thirty. No wonder he hadn’t been followed and had no entourage. He looked like a lot of the guys walking around the city.
    • When I finished closing up and moved to the front door, he hurried over to me.
    • “Where to?” he asked. “I’m not familiar with this part of the city. Let’s go somewhere not too public, if it’s all right with you. I’d like to talk. Trade ideas.”
    • Trade ideas? What did I know about music or songwriting? This promised to be a really short conversation.
    • “Sure. No problem,” I said as I locked up and pocketed the keys. “Arnold’s is a couple blocks away. I think you’ll like it.”
    • Arnold was the Americanized version of the Greek chef’s name. He and my grandfather were about the same age and best friends. My father and his son, another Arnold, were their tagalongs.
    • My mother was appalled by the elder Arnold because he constantly told her she was a disgrace. Why were the men in her family so skinny? Did she not feed them? She would stomp away while Arnold laughed.
    • “Your mother takes herself too seriously,” he’d tell me. “She should dance and sing more.”
    • Which was the other part of my mother’s disgust with Arnold. He, my grandfather, and my father would sit on the front porch of our house at night after he closed his tiny restaurant. There they’d drink ouzo, belt out folksongs, and challenge each other to perform fancy dance steps.
    • Mother threatened to call the police to quiet them with a warning, but she never did. Nor did the neighbors who could often be found watching and egging the men on.
    • Because he made me nervous, I told most of this to Hunter as we walked to Arnold’s. The story had no real point. As we neared the plain storefront with the plate glass window, my words slowed, then stopped. I was out of breath, trying to keep in step with him like a normal person.
    •  with a stylized depiction of applause -- clapping hands and arms waving -- under it.
      • I gestured to the elaborately written

    Arnold’s

    • “We’re here.” I was nearly panting.

 

COLLAPSE
Reviews:Sadonna on Love Bytes wrote:

This was an interesting story and went off in directions I didn’t anticipate. There are aspects of the story that were not really resolved, but that didn’t detract from the relationship that Ashton and Hunter are building. Yes, there are obstacles, especially with Ashton’s self-consciousness of his limp, but both men grow in their outlook here.

I don’t want to spoil the plot here, but let’s just say that things aren’t always as they appear, particularly for celebrities. Ashton is surprised that someone so famous would be interested in him at all. They go from friends to more as Hunter shares his real self – not the celebrity version – with Ashton.

Overall I enjoyed this story and the secondary characters were quite well drawn as well. In fact, I can see how their stories might be interesting too 😉 Ashton and Hunter may seem like very different people on the surface, but their artistry and personalities really do mesh. Once they get out of their own way a bit 🙂 Recommended. 4 Hearts

Fay on MM Bookworm Reviews wrote:

❤️ Awww I loved Aston and Hunter in this.
Aston 34, comes from a long line of glass artists with his shop selling to tourists and visitors.
When, well-known Hunter walks into his shop magic happens.
A gorgeous story of sand turning into glass and creating something beautiful for love.

Serena on Rainbow Book Reviews wrote:

This is a very cute, if somewhat angsty in places, story about two artists who feel a deep connection when they meet but don’t quite know what to do about it. Well, they sort of know what they want to do about it, but Ashton cannot believe anyone could love him and Hunter does not see how self-conscious Ashton is. Both need to learn to listen to their heart – and the other man – before anything more than friendship can develop.

Ashton is a talented glass artist, born into a family of successful glass artists and with a talent to “see the future” in what his family calls scrying stones they collect at the beach. When musical superstar Hunter first comes into the family store, Asher checks out Hunter’s future and what he sees, a gift destroyed, makes him assume all kinds of things that get in the way of him opening up to Hunter. That, and his belief that his limp will stand in the way of a relationship (like it has done before), mean he is more hesitant than he might be otherwise.

Hunter may be a famous musician, but he is looking for a human connection when he meets Ashton. He also makes a few assumptions, but his almost relentless interest in Ashton is stronger than what might get in the way of the two men getting to know each other.

I loved the descriptions of all the glass art in Ashton’s store, how each piece is unique, and how connected he is to his father and grandfather. Hunter “not seeing the problem” with Asher’s disability is as endearing as it is problematic – because there are things to watch out for that Hunter has to learn about.

If you like stories about artists who can be off in their own world but still want to have a real relationship, if misunderstandings at the beginning of a relationship are your thing, and if you are looking for a happy ending despite obstacles, then you will probably like this story.

Melanie M on Scattered Thoughts and Rogue Words wrote:

Rating: 4🌈

Fragile as Glass by Pat Henshaw is a wonderful, slightly mystical romance in JMS Books LLC’s Gay Advent Calendar this year.

Henshaw does such an excellent job in creating the character of glass artist Ashton Snell, complete with compelling history that explores and helps the reader really understand him, his personality, including his disability, and the slightly magical gift that he inherited from his grandfather. Ashton is so well written that he and this narrative need a longer story to completely dive into all the many elements and characters this author has created here.

The other main character is singer/rock star/songwriter Hunter who just isn’t as layered a character but has the ability to grow into something special. He’s intriguing but there’s so much to Ashton that anyone would be a lesser individual with this story. There’s not enough pages for equal development.

He comes with a good backstory, two side characters ( a bodyguard and his boyfriend , a chef) that I also wanted more of. Especially Gil, that bodyguard, because in a tv show or on stage, he’s what’s called a “scene stealer”. He’s that dynamic.

There’s also something fascinating going on, plot wise, that Henshaw pulls together here. After giving us an idea of the intriguing place where Ashton lives, a home turned compound that his grandfather started and has filled with artists. Ashton has two long time friends,fellow artists, and the author begins a storyline about a changing new dynamic between them, not a welcome one.

It’s a great plot. But that’s not what the story is about, and it has nowhere to go. It’s dropped. But I certainly was glued to this aspect of the story and it’s still there in my mind, going back over what the author might have done with more pages to really explore this aspect of Ashton’s life.

The romance between Ashton and Hunter is magical, quick, with a dramatic moment and then a sweet ending. That seems a bit rushed. But that is my preference for longer stories in general and this is in keeping with the spirit of the story.

Fragile as Glass by Pat Henshaw is a lovely story. It’s got so many interesting elements and well done characters that I wish it was twice its length or a prequel for more of this universe to come.

It’s another win for this author and the delightful press, JMS Books LLC. Check them out!