Welcome Birthday Guest Amy Lane!

Romance heroes tend not to have celebrated quite as many birthdays as most of the people who write them–but Larx and Aaron are different. They’ve both had children from prior relationships, and aren’t quite the spring chickens we’re used to in a romance. But what they lack in youth, they make up for in heart. Please enjoy this brief foray into the world of Bonfires. 

 

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The Smallest of Presents

 From Bonfires 

By Amy Lane

 

 Larx did Aaron a solid and took him out to the frostie for a turkey burger while Larx was supposed to be “distracting” him.

“I appreciate this,” Aaron mumbled into the Formica table, embarrassed. Larx’s metabolism was lightning fast—probably because, for a forty-eight-year old man he moved almost constantly—so he didn’t have to worry about going home to a house full of pizza. But Aaron—who spent half his life in his cruiser and the other quarter doing paperwork—was not nearly as active.

It was a thirty-pound difference between them, and in spite of their almost daily morning runs, Aaron was embarrassed how hard he had to work to keep his waist trim.

“I’m not sure how taking you out to eat before you eat is going to help you out,” Larx said kindly, taking a bite of his double cheese.  “But if I get ground beef in my body this week and nobody at home knows about it, I’m game!”

Aaron glared at him. “Is your cholesterol even—“

“Totally within range,” Larx said, licking ketchup from the corner of his mouth. “I know. You hate me. Hate me into the mattress after the party.”

Aaron groaned and took a virtuous bite of his turkey-burger, full-on-salad and ketchup only. No mayo. God, he used to love mayo. “How could you plan a party for me?” he asked, wishing his hands weren’t greasy so he could tug at his hair. “Forty-eight. Who has a party for a forty-eight-year-old—“

“I’m going to be forty-nine next year,” Larx said, wiping his face. “And then you know how old I’ll be?”

Tension bled out of Aaron’s shoulders. “Twenty-eight forever,” he said, smiling slightly.

Larx’s eyes were a deep, limpid brown—but when he rolled them, it wasn’t the color that caught Aaron’s attention. It was their expressiveness, and right now he was expressing “Pure bullshit.”

“We’re not kids,” Larx said, taking another bite. “We’re grownups. We’re even in… uh, the middle of our grownupness. Own it, baby. They don’t call them the golden years because we all get gorgeous tans.”

Aaron scowled—and took another bite. He couldn’t stomach pizza anymore. Cheese, onions, super greasy meat—was a recipe for gas and disaster, and he hated to be the guy who gave himself extra lift off the couch. But if he didn’t eat something he’d be gorging on pizza that was better put in the fridge for the two male teenaged eating machines who lived in their house.

And maybe a piece for the dog, who thought he was one of them.

“Why do we call them the golden years?” Aaron asked suspiciously. “And don’t we have to wait until we’re retired? Because I’ll call them the golden years if we’re traveling the country in an RV with a dog and a refrigerator full of beer.”

Larx’s eyes got big and dreamy. “Could we go up into Canada? I’ve always wanted to travel Yonge Street from coast to coast.”

“It doesn’t go from coast to coast,” Aaron said through a full mouth. “It doesn’t even go over a thousand miles. People thought it did because it got mixed up with another road in Ontario.”

Larx pouted. “Well, that’s a disappointment. But I still want to see it. And we can go on that other road in Ontario. And we can see Vancouver and Victoria. And Europe. I mean, I backpacked around Europe before I got my credential, but I want to go back with someone cool and spend entire days in places. And Mexico. And you know, Jimmy Carter is in his nineties and still doing habitat for humanity. You want in on some of that action? Because I always thought being old and useful beat being young and stupid by a mile. We could start shelters for emancipated minors and LGBTQ kids who got kicked out and—“

Aaron started to chuckle. “Slow down there, buddy. We haven’t even turned fifty yet.”

Larx’s grin was all teeth. “According to our kids, you haven’t even turned forty-eight.”

One last bite of burger left. Aaron finished it off, sort of enjoying the plain taste of unsalted turkey. When you’re young, you don’t really savor actual food—you think if it doesn’t have five hundred sauces on it, it’s boring. But Aaron had just had a date with Larx in a small town frostie, eating a turkey burger and talking about the future, and that had been the best part of his week—and of his birthday.

Youth really was wasted on the young.

“So, pizza.” Aaron had to make sure now that he’d officially ruined his appetite.

“And ice cream and pudding cake and—“

Aaron rubbed his stomach, feeling gassy already. “There goes sex,” he muttered, and Larx guffawed.

“Please. If gas even slowed either of us down we never would have kissed. Now let’s get home, you can open your presents, and we can go to bed and kiss.”  Larx stood and tossed their garbage, then grabbed his hand and hauled them out of the frostie. Back in October when they’d first started seeing each other, neither of them would have dared to have this conversation in a public place, and Larx certainly wouldn’t have grabbed his hand.

But times changed—children grew older, their parents grew old—and things got better when they were worse.

Today, Aaron’s boyfriend could take his hand in a small-town diner when he wouldn’t have dared four months ago.

The piled snow attested to January in a mountain town, but Aaron was driving the cruiser and it had great traction and chains. He negotiated the icy roads expertly while Larx sat in the passenger seat and talked at length about all the things he hadn’t done yet but he was saving for when the two of them could go together.

Yeah, sure. They’d have more wrinkles—and probably more gas—but they’d be together.  He’d have a companion who got him, who liked his smile, who wanted to touch him in public. The older he got, the simpler the things that made him happy. Like the turkey burger, having a companion at his side as his children moved up and away from him seemed like a luxury he’d never appreciated as a young man.

They pulled up in front of the house, where their kids waited with balloons and pizza and a whole lot of refined sugar and carbs—the trappings of a young man’s party because their kids were young and wanted the best for him.

“Wait,” he said softly, putting the car in park and tugging Larx’s chin a little until Larx was facing him.

“What?” Larx asked, but he was smiling a little, his mouth parted, so he knew what.

That didn’t make the touch of their lips any less sweet, or his taste any less warm, any less exciting, any less wonderful.

He pulled back and Larx’s smile went ear to ear. “Happy birthday,” he said softly.

“Forty-eight. Best year ever.”

“Wait until fifty,” Larx said, with all the confidence in the world. “I’ll really knock your socks off.”

They went in for another kiss, and as Aaron got lost for just one more minute in Larx’s arms, he wondered what they could possibly do to top a turkey burger at the frostie and necking in the front of the car.

 

 

 

 

Catnapped 15

Sorry I was feeling sick yesterday!

The rest of the week passed quickly. Nevio still hadn’t requested blood and Jacques spent most of his time in his lion form lying in the garden.

He flicked his tail from side to side and he lay on the large rock Nevio had placed to the left of the flowers. Apparently the gardeners were worried about the state of the greenery with his big lion ass in the way.

Sunshine beamed down on him as Jacques lolled about in the bright sunshine enjoying the heat against his fur.

“You are just a big lazy lion, aren’t you?”

Jacques lifted one eyelid to examine the vampire standing beside his rock. He yawned, exposing his sharp teeth.

“Yes, yes, you are quite intimidating. If you are done with your nap your tutor is going to be here in an hour to discuss some boring, dusty history with you. I thought you might want to be ready for that.” Nevio’s disdain came across clearly.

Jacques chuffed his disapproval before standing then jumping down from his rock. If he nudged Nevio a bit it was perfectly accidental, or he would claim, if asked.

“Brat,” Nevio scoled in a surprisingly affectionate tone.

Heading inside, Jacques didn’t bother to reply. He made it all the way back to his room before he wondered why Nevio hadn’t sent a servant to inform him.

After a quick shower and change into fresh clothes, Jacques located the library where his sessions were going to be held. A man in a tweed jacket and khakis stood in the room, a low table between him and the door. Jacques couldn’t make out what was on the table. A covering blocked his view.

“Oh, there you are. Well I’m assuming it’s you. You are Jacques Caldera are you not?”

“Yes, and you are?”

“Felix Underson.”

“The explorer?” Excitement shot through him. He hadn’t dared to hope to have someone this prestigious teaching him.

“Yes, that would be me!” The explorer beamed at him. “I’ve heard you want to work in a museum.”

Jacques nodded. “That’s been my dream since my dad took me to the Smithsonian as a child. I want to preserve our history.” He blushed beneath Felix’s understanding gaze.

“Quite right. As do I. I’ve spent the past ten years trying to uncover histories lost treasures from remote locations. All the ordinary valuable items are returned to their home cultural center so it can be shared with all.”

“And the ones that aren’t ordinary?” The hairs on the back of Jacques neck rose as Felix lifted the cover off the table.

“I bring them with me to discover their secrets and I’ll be using them as a teaching tool. What better way to learn about history than to learn everything that has happened in the past good and bad. You see, Jacques, may I call you that?”

Jacques nodded, his mouth too dry to answer.

“I’m going to teach you to be a true historian. Unlike those that try to whitewash history and make it all about the pretty trinkets and heroic battles, I’m going to show you the evil underbelly so you have a more rounded education. You can only learn so much history from books before you have to go out and explore on your own. Unfortunately for you, you’ve been put into a rather restrictive environment while still expecting you to learn about the world. It is my job to make sure you can get the education you need.”

“I appreciate that sir.” Jacques tried not to show his unease. Surely Nevio would leave him alone with someone who meant him harm.

“I knew you would.” Felix flashed him an approving smile. “That’s why I saved my best hexed objects for you.”

“Oh, um thanks.” Curiosity had him stepping forward. He blamed his inner feline.

Three items lay on a bed of red silk.

“All three of these have a dangerous curse of some kind. It is unusual to find in lost temples or tombs protection against theft or intrusion.”

The best solution to Jacques mind it to just leave it there.

Welcome Birthday Guest Keira Andrews!

“Don’t werewolves have birthdays?”

Sitting at their little table, Adam looked up from the cake, its candles casting a golden, flickering light over his blank, bearded face. “Well, yes. I was born on a day.” He scratched absently at his chest, hair tufting from the V-neck in his white tee.

Parker huffed impatiently, anxiety tugging at his gut. Had he done the wrong thing? Maybe it made Adam think of his family. Happy birthday! Here are some crappy memories of your dead parents and sisters! Yay! “You know what I mean. Did you guys not celebrate this stuff?”

“No, we did.” Adam stared back at the cake on the table. Wax dripped down the colorful candles onto the slightly lumpy chocolate frosting.

The sailboat swayed on the gentle waves. They were belowdecks in the sitting area, blissfully alone. Not that Parker didn’t appreciate their fellow survivors, but he loved getting away with Adam. No regular human people, no werewolves, no infected creepers to eat their faces—just them and the sea.

Adam asked, “How did you even know?”

“It’s on your license.” Parker tapped his fingers on his thigh, his foot jiggling, then toyed with a loose thread on his faded jeans. Their wallets were shoved away in a drawer since there was no use for money or ID in a zombie apocalypse. He reached for the cake. “This is stupid anyway. It probably tastes like crap. I’ve never baked before.”

But Adam gripped the sides of the plate. Staring at him in that intense way that made Parker imagine Adam was seeing right into his soul, Adam stood and leaned over the table, lifting his hands to cup Parker’s face and kiss him deeply.

Tongues meeting, they explored and tasted, breathing each other in until Parker’s head swam, lust sparking in his veins. His jeans became uncomfortably tight in the crotch, and he moaned. Adam released him, still leaning close. His golden eyes glowed, the wolf side of him apparently into this whole birthday thing.

His breath brushed across Parker’s lips. “Thank you. For…everything.”

“Sure. It was no big.” Parker swallowed hard to banish the lump in his throat. “You too. Now you’d better blow out those candles before you light your chest hair on fire.”

Laughing, Adam released him and stood straight. “We wouldn’t want that. You’re awfully fond of my chest hair.”

“I really am. It’s your best feature.”

Still smiling, Adam closed his eyes for a moment, took a deep breath, and blew.

 

Amazon

To live through the zombie apocalypse they have to survive each other first.

College freshman Parker Osborne is having the worst day ever. He humiliated himself trying to pick up a cute guy, he hasn’t made any friends at school, and his stupidly hot jerk of a TA gave him a crappy grade on his paper. He’s going to drop Adam Hawkins’ film class and start fresh tomorrow after he’s had a good sulk.

But Parker’s about to find out what a bad day really looks like—if he can survive the night.

A virus is unleashed, transforming infected people into zombie-like killers. After these quick and deadly creepers swarm campus, Parker only escapes thanks to Adam swooping him onto the back of his trusty motorcycle. Now they’re on the run—and stuck with each other.

When they’re not bickering, they’re fighting off the infected in a bloody battle for survival. Their only hope is to head east to Parker’s family, but orphaned Adam has a secret he’s not sure Parker will accept: he’s a werewolf. Can they trust each other enough to find some light in these dark days?

This gay romance from Keira Andrews features enemies to lovers, a really stressful road trip, two young men finding love in the zombie apocalypse, and of course a happy ending. Book one in the Kick at the Darkness m/m shifter romance series.

Duke Betrayed on Pre-order at Amazon!

AMAZON

Duke Betrayed is finally up for pre-order on Amazon. It releases Saturday!

Previously Released

When Duke Hellbur is accused of smuggling Thresls and selling them off to interested buyers, he undertakes a trip to prove his innocence. In order to retain his humanity, Hellbur bonds with a medic named Balaze…who didn’t exactly give his assent to the binding of their souls.

Balaze admired the Duke whenever he visited the castle, but finding someone attractive and wanting to be theirs for eternity aren’t the same thing. After surviving the death of his first Thresl mate, Balaze isn’t exactly eager to go through that pain again. However, the Duke doesn’t take no for an answer.

Those who are guilty will have to be uncovered if the two men ever plan on finding peace with each other. When Hellbur and Balaze go off on an interplanetary adventure, can they find common ground, or will their enemies tear them apart?

Welcome Birthday Guest Andrew Grey!

Birthdays aren’t a big deal for me.  But I’m going to tell you of one that was both fun and embarrassing.  A few years ago Dominic and I were on a cruise over my borthday and he had told them when my birthday was.  I wasn’t aware of it at the time.  So on the day, at dinner, our server bring me out a huge special dessert from the captain’s table and then half the dang dining room staff gathered around the table to sing happy birthday.  It was totally embarrassing and one of the sweetest things ever.  Dominic it seemed was totally thrilled that he’s surprised me and I got over the embarrassment quickly.  There were no presents or candles, but I’ll always remember that day for what’s truly important.  THE DESSERT  Smile  It was amazing!!!!!

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Blurb

The attraction between Brent Berkheimer and Scott Spearman peels the wallpaper, but Brent is Scott’s boss, and they’re both too professional to go beyond flirting. Their priorities realign after Scott is badly injured in an accident that costs him his hearing, and Brent realizes what is truly important… he wants Scott.

Scott first pushes Brent away, fearing a new romance will just add to his problems, but perhaps he will find unexpected strength and solace in Brent’s support as he struggles to communicate with the world in a new way.

Just as they decide the chance of a happy future together is worth the risk, Scott and Brent discover darker challenges in their way—including evidence that the “accident” Scott suffered may not have been so accidental.

Welcome Birthday Guest Kim Fielding!

Celebration

by Kim Fielding

 

Ante had grown accustomed to awakening to the aroma of sugary baked goods, but he remained in bed a few extra minutes to savor it. He’d never had much of a sweet tooth when he was alive, and now his diet was even more limited. Yet he’d come to associate this smell with his recent bounty of good fortune. It felt good to take a bit of time to wallow in his happiness.

Ah, but why wallow alone when he could have the very best of company?

Ante hopped out of bed and quickly slipped into jeans and a sweater. Although he couldn’t actually feel the autumn chill, he still heard his mother scolding him to bundle up. She’d no doubt be pleased to know that she still had an influence, even though she’d been in her grave for over a century and a half and her mortal remains were six thousand miles away.

After a quick glance at the window—yes, the sun had almost set—he padded down the stairs, smiling at the way the third step emitted a tiny creak. Peter kept threatening to fix it, but Ante liked the slight imperfection.

Peter sat at the kitchen table, carefully spreading white frosting onto a cake. He greeted Ante with a wide smile. “Morning.”

“Evening.”

“Something like that. Sleep well?”

“Yes. I am a bit achy, however.” Ante grinned.

“I told you that position was gonna make you sore.”

“I am not regretting it.”

“Me either. Besides, your supervamp healing’ll kick in as soon as you eat.”

Ante nodded and headed toward the fridge, where he kept his blood supply. But Peter hopped up, grabbed his arm, and dragged him to the table. “Nope. Sit.”

“But—”

“Sit.”

Knowing the futility of arguing with Peter, Ante obeyed. Then he gestured at the cake. “Who is this for?”

“Me.”

“An entire cake? That is excessive even for you.”

Peter poked Ante’s shoulder. “It’s a special occasion.”

“Oh?”

Instead of answering, Peter hurried to the fridge and pulled out a covered plate. He flashed an enigmatic smile over his shoulder before sticking the plate in the microwave and then rummaging in a drawer. When the microwave beeped, he danced back to the table with the plate, which he set in front of Ante. Ante watched in bemusement as Peter removed the lid, revealing a stack of dark brown circles. They smelled… intriguing.

“What is this?” Ante asked.

Instead of answering, Peter stuck a small, colorful candle into the mysterious stack. He lit it with a match, making Ante flinch slightly. Ante and flames didn’t get along well.

“Explain, please?”

Peter shook his head. Then he took a deep breath and, to Ante’s complete astonishment, burst into song. “Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday dear Ante, happy birthday to you!”

“I, I—”

“Make a wish and blow out the candle.”

Despite his confusion, Ante knew exactly what to wish for: many more years with his beloved Peter. He exhaled heavily and the flame extinguished. “It is not my birthday,” he announced.

“When is your birthday?”

“I… do not know.” Members of his community hadn’t celebrated birthdays when he was alive. “Sometime in autumn.”

“Well, see? How about the day you rose from the grave? Do you know when that was?”

“I have no idea.” He’d been a soldier away at war. The date hadn’t mattered.

“Then we’ll celebrate today because it’s November 2.”

Ante had to think about this for a moment. “All Souls’ Day?”

“Can you think of a better time to celebrate a vampire? I mean, I guess I could have gone with Halloween, but I was already pretty busy then.”

Ante recalled Peter baking treats for their entire community, finding recipes to suit even those with very particular tastes. Except for Ante, of course; but that night Ante had fed on Peter, which was the most delicious treat of all.

Which raised the next question. “What is this?” He pointed at the candle-topped pile.

Peter looked smug. “Blood pancakes. They’re a thing in Scandinavia. Only I made these with human instead of pig. And I gotta say, I wasn’t tempted even a little bit to taste them, but I’m hoping you’ll enjoy.”

Ante shrugged, picked up a fork, and cut a thick wedge, which he shoveled into his mouth. At the same time, Peter dug into his own cake with his fingers, eschewing silverware entirely. “Well?” Peter asked with his mouth full.

“It is… interesting.”

“Gross interesting?”

“No. Just….” Ante took another bite and chewed slowly. “Different. In a good way.” After so many years of the same diet, some variety was pleasant.

Peter beamed. “Happy birthday.”

Ante reached over and grabbed Peter’s sticky hand. “I believe I could remain another thousand years on this earth, and as long as you are with me, I would never fail to be amazed and delighted.”

“Ditto.” Peter raised their joined hands to his mouth and kissed Ante’s knuckles. “Now hurry up and eat. I have presents for you.”

“Presents?”

Waggling his eyebrows, Peter gave him a joyful leer. “Gooood presents.” He inclined his head toward the stairs. “Up there.”

Ante jumped to his feet, hauling Peter upright as well. “Then I think perhaps the remainder of our delicacies can wait.”

Laughing, and still holding hands, they ran for the stairs.

 

***

 

Read more about Ante and Peter in Ante Up.

Dreamspinner | Amazon

 

Love is a high-stakes game.

A century and a half ago, Ante Novak died on a Croatian battlefield—and rose three days later as a vampire. Now he haunts Las Vegas, stealing blood and money from drunken gamblers and staying on the fringe of the powerful vampire organization known as the Shadows. His existence feels empty and meaningless until he meets beautiful Peter Gehrardi, who can influence others with his thoughts.

An attraction flares instantly, bringing a semblance of life to Ante’s dead heart. But the Shadows want Peter too, and they’re willing to kill to get him. As Ante and Peter flee, they learn more about themselves and each other, and they discover that the world is a stranger place than either of them imagined. With enemies at their heels and old mistakes coming back to exact a price, how can Ante and Peter find sanctuary?

 

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Book giveaway! One lucky commenter wins the e-book version of Love Is Heartless. https://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/books/love-is-heartless-by-kim-fielding-8031-b

 

 

 

 

Welcome Birthday Guest RJ Scott!

 

“Fucking cake is the bomb,” Scott said, and did this complicated hand wave thing that always left Corey mystified. Even more so when DK joined in and they ended up fist bumping. DK was supposed to be over that kind of thing, his wife had just had their second baby and he was a settled family man. Right?

Five years they’d been together as a band, and Wildcard had gone from SingUK winners to a global sensation that meant they were all very rich. Corey imagined those words in capitals in his head whenever he used them.

The cake was indeed, the bomb. Five layers of various sponges in the shape of a castle, which linked back to their latest music video, and which represented…

What?

Corey didn’t know what it represented. Did the band need reminding that they shot their last video in a castle? Maybe they did, and this was another complicated social thing that he just wasn’t getting.

“I think he’ll like it,” Corey said, when he realized that Scott and DK were staring at him expecting an answer. “I need to go and find Angel,” he said and left before they asked him his opinion on the shade of icing used on the third layer, or something else he’d have to make up an answer to.

He found Angel in their bedroom; the huge room with the views over the lake. Their lake. Lake Corey, as Angel had taken to calling it. They’d only been in this house for three months but this was his favorite room and the lake was his preferred place to sit and think. So much so that Angel had ordered in a bench and an awning thing that kept the Welsh rain off Corey’s head. They’d chosen this wild area of wales for a lot of reasons, the first being that Corey hated the city, the second that Angel loved Corey and did anything he could to make life easier for him.

Corey could deal with the crowds now, when Angel was at his side, and when he sung it didn’t matter how his brain worked as long as the words came and the music was there. Sometimes a person would get too close to him, but the band where there every time, forming a wall, and in the main people out there knew he didn’t want them to get too close.

“What’s wrong?” Angel asked when Corey went immediately into his large walk in closet. They had one each, and Corey’s was full of his trademark dark colors, a seat in the corner and a box of things he relied on. Like his notebook, and his guitar, and his pictures of happy times. This room was safe and quiet and the only person allowed in there with him was Angel.

“Do you think Toby will like his cake?”

Angel never frowned at his questions, or made him feel like an idiot. “Yes, he loves that whole gothic thing.” Angel brushed the nearest black leather jacket, “I think gothic looks good in this house,” he added, and smiled, “definitely on you.”

He held out his hands and Corey walked into his husband’s embrace, holding him tight and inhaling the familiar scent of hair product and shaving cream. Even though Angel’s hair wasn’t white blond now, and more of a silvery blond, it was still soft to touch.

He’d pulled all the stops out, familiar skinny jeans, but the long flowing shirt was a sapphire blue and his makeup was flawless.

All Corey wanted to do was kiss Angel until every inch of that perfect look was mussed up. He didn’t though, he stepped back and straightened his black shirt, checking it in the mirror. Angel stood behind him, his hands on Corey’s waist, looking over his shoulder at their joined reflection.

“Ready?” he asked and pressed a kiss to Corey’s neck.

“Ready.”

Toby arrived with his wife, blown away by the cake, and announced that they were expecting their first baby. Another member of the Wildcard family for Corey and Angel to spoil.

The party was loud, too many execs, too many blonds, too much air kissing, but after everyone was gone it was just the five of them, plus partners, and sleeping babies.

“Did you ever think…?” Scott began, a plate of cake on his lap. He was always the one to start the conversation, the memories of five years ago and SingUK. He was holding hands with his wife, Ebony, who he’d met through the show.

Corey reached for Angel’s hand and they snuggled close on the huge sofa, as the memories of how they became Wildcard began to form.

“Do you remember what Brianna did…”

Corey listened, and laughed and joined in with the things that he knew, and held Angel’s hand throughout.

“I love you,” Angel whispered, and pressed a soft kiss to his head.

Corey tightened his fingers a little and then tilted his face for a kiss. “And I love you.”

 

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When the only way to win is to hide who you are, how far are you prepared to go?
Reuben “Angel” Jacobs is one step away from giving it all up. Losing a place in the live finals of Sing UK almost kills him. He has no choice but to go home and work for the family business, even though it means giving up his dreams and proving his old bullies right.
Corey Dixon is a rocker at heart. Being on the spectrum means that making sense of other people’s ‘normal’ is hard in itself, let alone in the chaos of a high-powered competition. Singing is his safe space, the only way he can think through the noise in his head. Messing up his audition for the live shows means his journey is over, and it’s the worst day of his life.
The judges throw them a lifeline and create a boy band from the near-miss hopefuls. Angel, Corey, and three others are put together in a room and offered the chance to sing as a group. Agreeing to become part of the new band means Corey has to hide who he is and what Angel has come to mean to him.
Is winning worth the price Corey and Angel have to pay?