The journey from an idea to a rough draft to a finished product is a long one. It was no different for Heavyweight. Along the way, I’ve posted teasers in various states of completion. I do this to get early feedback and get the buzz going, interest potential readers. You may have read them all along the way (thank you loyal blog followers!) or you may be new to the blog. I thought it might be nice for you guys to have all those teasers in one place…along with maybe a little something new.
As you can see in the sidebar, there are only 16 days until the book’s birthday! Let these teasers wet your whistle before the main course. If you like what you read, you can add Heavyweight to your Goodread’s To-be-read list or even pre-order from Dreamspinner’s site. Regardless of what you do, I hope you enjoy!
Remember, some of these were posted early in the process. They have no doubt been reworked, reworded and massaged since then, but the idea and feeling behind the scenes stayed the same. No major plot points or content was added or removed during the editing process.
How about something….a little steamy this time around?
“What’s the issue here, Ian? If you didn’t want to share my drink, all you had to do is say so,” he jokes.
I am so not in the mood for jokes. I can’t hold it back anymore.
“What’s the issue? What’s the issue? How about you flaunting your goddamn money? I may not have a shiny new car like you, but do I look like a fucking pauper? You won’t let me pay for my ticket. I try to buy food for everyone, and you all pass. Okay, fine, you’re not hungry. Then you go behind my back and drop fifty bucks on junk for a bunch of people who aren’t even hungry. Why? So you can show off your big allowance? Or so you can force feed me because Clay told you I don’t like to eat? Do I look like a skeleton? I don’t need a sugar daddy or a nursemaid.”
Julian has visibly paled and is shaking slightly. I don’t know if it’s from anger or shock. Seeing him in such a state has my rage immediately abating, heading south for the winter. Weary, I run a hand over my face.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to snap… I just… I’m exhausted and stressed, and to be honest, I’m not used to having people do things for me.” He’s still shaking like an autumn leaf in a strong breeze. Oh God. Did I break him? I grab his hand and half drag him around to the alley between the theater and the now closed drug store.
It’s dark, and no one can see us unless they step into the alley themselves. Without stopping to think of the consequences, I pull his shaking body close to me and wrap my arms around him. He fits perfectly against me, like a matching puzzle piece. I rest my chin on top of his head and tell him again I’m sorry for my outburst.
I realize his trembling has subsided. He’s not hugging me back, but he’s not trying to break free of my embrace, either. I’ve tread into very dangerous territory here. Unsure what to do, I slowly let my arms drop and take a small step back, where I meet the cold brick again.
What else is there to do other than apologize again and hope I didn’t royally fuck things up by hugging him? Hanging my head, I let the “sorry” slip through my turned-down lips and turn to leave the alley.
Before I can leave the shadows, his spry body is up against mine, pushing with such force that I can feel the rough texture of the bricks through my clothes. His long, graceful artist’s fingers are in my hair, roughly pulling my head down to meet his. Soft, warm lips meet mine in a gentle caress, unlike the frenzied actions of the rest of his body. He’s grabbing at my hair, rubbing up against me. My mind is in a complete fog.
It’s a fantasy come true. He nips at my bottom lip, surprising me. His wet, seeking tongue coaxes my mouth open, and I sigh as he explores the formerly uncharted territory. I’m acting on instinct, sending my own tongue out on an exploratory mission—Lewis and Clark have nothing on me. I taste the sharp tang of metal as my tongue touches his lip ring. It wakes me out of my hormonal haze.
Eyes wide, I push him away from me. My head spins wildly, looking to see if anyone has caught our tentative dance. Thankfully, there is no one waiting to cast stones at us. My head keeps shaking.
I have to do something. Say something. I know it’s going to hurt him, and God, the last thing I want to do is hurt him. I want to drag him down to the dirty ground and run my hands along the expanse of his sinewy frame, telling him how beautiful he is, how his kiss set my entire body on fire. But I can’t. I can’t let the secret out. No matter how much I want this man, how much I want to confide in him and learn about him and have him teach me… I can’t. I hope he can forgive me for what I’m about to do. I have to force the words past my still tingling lips. My traitorous tongue trips me up.
“Jules, I’m not… I’m sorry… but I’m not gay.”