The Buckhampton Country Club and the Rogue Prince
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by Ryan Field
Category: Erotica/Gay-Lesbian Erotica/Romance
Description: Parrish Bundy has just lost his father, and gained a traveling circus, a chocolate factory, and plenty of power and money. As the heir to the Bundy empire, Parrish knows the rules- but now that he's in charge, he plans to make changes. And now that he owns one of the most prestigious country clubs in the east, The Buckhampton Country Club on eastern Long Island, he's finally able to let his hair down. Across the Atlantic in a small European country there lives a handsome young prince named Richard who is even more dissatisfied with his controlled life than Parrish. Richard has always been aware of his royal obligations, and he's always put his people and his country before his own needs- still he longs to know what it's like to be a normal gay man who has the ability to choose his own destiny. When the two men meet by happenstance, sparks fly in the hushed environment of the Buckhampton Country Club. But will social responsibilities, long-standing family rules, and deeply ingrained royal obligations ruin their chances to spend the rest of their lives together? And will they be able to overcome the harsh realities of being openly gay in the public eye in order to live their lives they way they want to live them?
eBook Publisher: Ravenous Romance/Ravenous Romance, 2011 2011
eBookwise Release Date: August 2011
2 Reader Ratings:
Available eBook Formats: OEBFF Format (IMP) [236 KB]
Reading time: 163-228 min.
All Other formats: Printing DISABLED, Read-aloud DISABLED
After his father's graveside service, Parrish Bundy crossed the Buckhampton cemetery alone and climbed into his limousine. His mother was living in Paris now. She didn't think his father would have minded if she didn't make the funeral. And Parrish didn't want to subject his brother to any unnecessary stress.
Parrish left his two fair-haired uncles and their wives standing in the hot June sun beside his father's grave with the other mourners. He left his two straw-colored male cousins with the minister and the elderly women from the church choir. He didn't shake any hands and he didn't wait around to listen to any condolences.
He did this partly because he wanted to get to the Buckhampton Country Club before everyone else arrived to be sure the luncheon that followed the graveside service was exactly as his father had planned before his death, partly because he couldn't wait to loosen his black tie and mess up his hair, and partly because he wanted to see the banquet manager about something especially important that couldn't wait.
The Bundy men had always worn their ash blond hair one length: slicked back over their ears. It was a tradition that had been handed down from Parrish's great-grandfather, from son to son. The way the Bundy men held their hair in place varied from one Bundy to another. Parrish's cousins used thick goopy gel; his two uncles used sticky, tacky hairspray from the drugstore that made their heads feel brittle to the touch. Parrish had been told his great-grandfather Bundy had used butter to slick his hair back. Supposedly, his grandfather had used petroleum jelly.
On that particular morning, Parrish had used plain tap water to comb his hair back. He did this so he could change it fast after the service. The minute the limousine door was shut, Parrish lowered an overhead mirror, ran his fingers through his thick hair, and started a tradition of his own that afternoon. He pulled a comb out of his black suit jacket and parted his hair on the right. Then he ran his fingers through it a few times, scrunched it up a little, and shook his head.
By the time the limo pulled up to the main entrance of the prestigious Buckhampton Country Club, Parrish's hair resembled that of any other normal twenty-five-year-old. When the driver opened the back door to let Parrish out, he gaped at Parrish's head and drew a quick breath. Parrish climbed out and patted him on the shoulder. "Don't worry, Alton," he said. "I'm just making a few small changes around here now that my father is gone. Nothing too big we can't handle."
The old man nodded and smiled. "Yes, I see that, sir. It's very becoming. I tried for years to get your father to stop combing his hair back but he'd never listen. He'd just laugh and change the subject. Tradition, you know."
Alton had been working for the Bundy family since 1960, long before Parrish had even been a thought in the universe. Alton was in his sixties now, with a tall slim physique, a thick head of wavy white hair, and a strong jaw. Though no one could ever prove it, rumor had it that Alton had been Parrish's father's lover for many years--since they'd both been young men in their twenties. None of this was ever discussed openly, especially not within the family. In the last four generations of Bundy men, the fact that more than a few Bundy men were gay--even though they'd been married and had procreated at least once--was one of those unspoken topics no one ever dared to mention aloud. Discretion in the Bundy family was even more important than slicked back hair, money, and power. The word gay, or homosexual, wasn't even mentioned when it came to the most effeminate of the Bundy men, like Parrish's Uncle Victor, who spent most of his time in Manhattan working with ballet dancers. They all referred to him as "artistic" and "very sensitive"--even his wife, a pink, dimpled woman named Alice Mae.