Author Name: A.M. Arthur
Book Name: The World As He Sees It
Series: Perspectives
Book: Two
Can be read as a standalone
Release
Date: October 20, 2015
Pages or Words: 283 pages, 83,000 words
Categories: Contemporary, Fiction, M/M Romance, Romance
BLURB
Love knows no
limits…but fear could keep them from seeing it.
Gabe
lives a double life. As Gabriel Henson, he works multiple jobs to support his
remorseless, alcoholic mother. As Tony Ryder, he does internet porn for extra
cash and regular safe sex without complications.
Yet
when he encounters a scared young man freaking out in a night club, he’s
compelled to reach out. Ever since then, the memory of that young man has
haunted him.
Tristan
Lavelle lives his life thirty minutes at a time. After a traumatic brain injury
three years ago, he gets through his day recording his life in spiral notebooks
and sticky note reminders.
A
month after Tristan’s embarrassingly public meltdown, another chance meeting
with Gabe sparks a warm, emotionally fulfilling email relationship. Both men
crave more, but fear of the next step stands between them.
Until
Tristan gets the opportunity to take part in a clinical trial that could
improve his memory—if the side effects don’t kill him. But for Tristan, the
possibility of a real life with Gabe is worth any risk…
EXCERPT
The late hour didn’t diminish the sweltering August heat, and
Tristan worked up a good sweat walking. Shane and Noel both looked crazy sexy
in their club clothes, and even sexier walking side by side. He was happy for
Noel. Happy his best friend was in love and enjoying himself.
He was also stupidly, insanely jealous.
He stuck close with his stupid, insane jealousy because the
streets were teeming with people of all ages, heading into and out of the
different restaurants and clubs. They turned down a quieter side street that
was more like an alley. Halfway down the block a few guys hung out against a
stone wall, most of them smoking cigarettes. An industrial door with no sign or
markings was being guarded by a big, burly bear of a man in a black leather
vest.
“Hey, Officer Carlson,” the bouncer said. He had a deep
voice to match his broad body. “Nice to see you again.”
“Hi, Mr. Henson,” Noel said.
“Bear, son. Everyone calls me Bear.”
“Right. This is my friend Tristan Lavelle.”
“A right pleasure.”
Tristan shook Bear’s hand, surprised by the gentle grip. “Hi.”
He glanced at Shane, who didn’t seem at all annoyed at being left out. “Um,
that’s Shane. Noel’s boyfriend.”
Bear grinned. “Yeah, I know that one all right.”
“You do?” He reached for a notebook he didn’t have, then
looked at Noel for answers.
“Shane dances here once a week,” Noel said. “He got the job
through Bear’s son Gabe.”
“Oh.” He didn’t bother asking if he’d already been told
that. Probably. Every single piece of information that was mildly important to
his life had been repeated to him at least, oh, eighteen times. Minimum.
“Enjoy yourselves, boys,” Bear said. “First drinks are on
the house.”
“Thank you,” Tristan replied.
Noel pulled the door, and what had been a distant bass
became an impressive thumpa-thumpa in Tristan’s chest. The interior of the club
was wide and deep, with a high ceiling decorated in strands of red and blue
lights. Strobes and other lighting flashed around the dance floor, which seemed
to make up most of the floor space. A small U-shaped bar stood to the right. In
the rear were what looked like raised platforms. Two hot guys in red
short-shorts were gyrating together on one of them.
This is the kind of
dancing Shane does? Shit.
He was probably twenty kinds of hot up there.
Someone jostled past them, reminding Tristan to keep moving
forward. Noel was hustling them straight for the bar. Tristan couldn’t drink
alcohol because of his antidepressants and anxiety medications, and Noel was
driving so the only person able to drink much was Shane.
Lucky bastard.
Not that Tristan was going to mourn his dry night. Men.
Everywhere around him, a sea of hot men. All kinds of eye candy. Every age,
height, weight, shape and body hair amount. He observed and mentally drooled
over the flesh on display. The air smelled of liquor and sweat and sex, and
good Lord he was starting to get lightheaded from it all.
Noel nudged them closer to the bar. A middle-aged man with
gray hair and a pink sequined vest gave them all a big, toothy smile. “Noel and
friends,” he said. “Richard Brightman, pleased to officially meet you, Tristan.”
“Hello,” Tristan said. Officially
meet you implied they’d interacted before, but the man’s name meant nothing
to him.
“I’m Bear’s husband. We own the place.”
“Oh. It’s a great place. I’m pretty sure this is my first
time. I like it.”
Noel flinched.
Okay that was wrong.
When was I here before?
“So what are we drinking tonight?” Richard asked. “First
round on the house. Samuel Adams for you, Shane?”
“Yeah, thanks,” Shane replied.
Richard knows because
Shane works here.
“I’ll have a vodka tonic,” Noel said. “Tris?”
“Virgin margarita,” Tristan said. He loved margaritas, and
while a virgin wasn’t as good as one with Patrón, he couldn’t mix with his
meds.
“Coming up,” Richard said.
The music changed to a faster, sharper beat. Tristan’s hips
rolled in tiny motions, instinct bringing out his love of club dancing. Of
getting into it with another dude, all writhing bodies and gyrating hips. Arms
and legs. Sweat and heavy breathing.
Wonderful arousal stirred in his gut, heating his blood
already. He might not be getting laid tonight, but damn it, he was going to
have some fun.
“Hey, you guys made it,” said a sexy, sultry voice.
Tristan glanced over his shoulder to see who the voice had
spoken to, only to find himself staring into a pair of kind, dark eyes. Kind,
dark eyes belonging to a stunningly handsome face. Black hair. Tan skin. Tall
and well-built. A walking wet dream who was smiling like they were old friends.
Holy fucking hell,
he’s gorgeous.
“Hey, Gabe,” Shane said.
Gabe.
Those kind, dark eyes never broke from his, and Tristan
couldn’t look away. Gabe was a stranger, and yet somehow familiar.
His eyes. The eyes I
see. We’ve met.
“We’ve met,” Tristan said before he could think twice.
Gabe’s eyebrows twitched. “Yes, we have. Do you remember
that?”
“I remember your eyes.”
ABOUT
THE AUTHOR
A.M. Arthur was born and raised in the same kind of small town
that she likes to write about, a stone's throw from both beach resorts and
generational farmland. She's been
creating stories in her head since she was a child and scribbling them down
nearly as long, in a losing battle to make the fictional voices stop. She credits an early fascination with male
friendships (bromance hadn't been coined yet back then) with her later
discovery of and subsequent love affair with m/m romance stories.
When
not exorcising the voices in her head, she toils away in a retail job that
tests her patience and gives her lots of story fodder. She can also be found in her kitchen,
pretending she's an amateur chef and trying to not poison herself or others
with her cuisine experiments.
Contact
her at am_arthur@yahoo.com with your
cooking tips (or book comments).
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GIVEAWAY
A. M. Arthur is a new author for me. I have the first in the series, and will be adding this one as well. It sounds like it's gonna be sad, but good as well.
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