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Drawn, a Hammer novel
by Sean Michael
Category: Erotica/Gay-Lesbian Erotica/Romance
Description: Giles is an artist, a man who is intense and totally focused on his art. In fact, a lot of people including some of his own family, think he's a little bit crazy. Harrison meets the artist as Giles is running away from setting up a showing at a gallery, totally freaked out. Harrison is immediately intrigued. He doesn't think Giles is crazy, but he does believe that Giles needs someone like him, or more accurately, him, to help Giles focus on more than just his art. Giles isn't exactly easy to convince that Harrison is the man to do the job, though. Oh, he likes Harrison well enough and the sex is wonderful, but this BDSM stuff Harrison talks about is just a game, right? And Giles is worried that all the time he's spending focussed on Harrison is damaging his art. After all, you have to suffer for your art, right? Can Harrison convince him that Giles can have love, happiness and Harrison in his life as well as be a great artist or will Giles' worries about his artwork drive them apart for good
eBook Publisher: Torquere Press/Top Shelf, 2011 www.torquerepress.com
eBookwise Release Date: August 2011
 
41 Reader Ratings:
Available eBook Formats: OEBFF Format (IMP) [248 KB]
Words: 54973
Reading time: 157-219 min.
"Giles? What are you doing? Where are you going? Giles?"
He threw the canvas, watched it sail across the gallery floor. Then he ran, hitting the door so hard it shattered, glass going everywhere.
He didn't even look back at his sister and manager, Marisa's screeching filling the air. "Giles!"
No. No more. Not right now.
None of the canvases looked right. None of the pieces hung right. The light was wrong. The mood was wrong. He couldn't do this anymore.
He turned the corner and running harder, sandaled feet slapping the pavement. If he ran hard enough, fast enough, he would silence the thoughts screaming in his head.
Giles turned another corner and careened right into what felt like a wall. Only it moved, turned, and six and a half feet of muscle stared down at him, hands grabbing his arms to steady him.
"Sorry. Sorry." Big. Whoa.
"Are you all right?" Mr. Big had a great voice. It kind of lodged right in his balls.
"Yeah." He shook his head. "You?"
"I'm fine. It takes more than a slender man like you to knock the wind out of me." One big hand cupped his head, fingers stroking on his scalp.
He blinked up, the touch surprising, stunning, completely inappropriate. "I. I. Thank you? I mean, I'm sorry. I mean..." He was very confused.
Mr. Big jerked his head toward the right. "There's a pub there. Why don't you come in with me? Have a seat for a few minutes."
"With you? But..." He shook his head to clear it. "Didn't your mother tell you not to talk to strangers?"
A low chuckled filled his senses. "After sitting together for a while, we won't be strangers anymore. I'm just worried. You seem... confused."
"No. No, just--" He heard his name, his sister's voice. "A beer would be good." ENDEXCERPT
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