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by Vivien Dean
Category: Erotica/Gay-Lesbian Erotica/Dark Fantasy
Description: Thomas Durling escaped his small-town upbringing for over ten years, until a single phone call draws him back. Told his mother has been diagnosed with early onset Alzheimer's, Thomas returns to the small northern Michigan town he once called home to find a mute stranger named Andre taking care of her in his stead. On the surface, Andre seems harmless enough, but Thomas has enough problems trying to deal with his mother's illness. He doesn't need a gorgeous young man to distract him, especially in a town that already drove him away once with its homophobia.
But Andre Nezat has nowhere else to go. A wolf without a pack, he's been on the run since witnessing his father's murder, always looking over his shoulder, never looking ahead. Taking care of Thomas's mother has given him a welcome sanctuary, as well as a place he can call home for a couple months. He wants to stay, but more importantly, he wants to help, even if Thomas isn't ready to accept that they can actually be friends...
Genres: Gay / Dark Fantasy / Werewolf / Shapeshifter
eBook Publisher: Amber Quill Press, 2010
eBookwise Release Date: February 2012
12 Reader Ratings:
Available eBook Formats: OEBFF Format (IMP) [185 KB]
Reading time: 115-162 min.
At Pastor's call, the young man glanced back, and all the air disappeared from Thomas's lungs. Stranger or not, Andre was stunning. A long, angular jaw, just like the rest of him. Bee-stung lips women would kill for. And eyes such a pale blue, they felt electric, all the way across the yard.
"This is Thomas, Amy's son," Pastor said as they approached. Andre straightened, and while he easily matched Thomas's height, he held himself like a skittish animal, ready to bolt at a moment's notice. "Thomas, this is Andre Nezat."
Thomas held out his hand. "It's nice to meet you."
A moment of hesitation. Andre's gaze dropped to Thomas's offering. Long, almost girly, eyelashes became more visible as they fanned across his cheeks.
But the shifted attention did the same to Thomas's, driving it downward to catch on the young man's exposed throat. Instead of a smooth column to match the rest of him, Andre's neck was a map of scars, bone-white against his tanned skin, puckered with age. Thomas jerked his eyes away as soon as Andre lifted his again, but curiosity burned inside as they finally shook hands.
"I don't suppose you know sign language," Pastor said.
"No." He couldn't look away. Andre couldn't be deaf. He'd turned around at the sound of Pastor's voice. "You can't speak?"
With a shake of his head, Andre reached into his front pocket and pulled out a small notepad, its pages bent and crinkled from having been shoved into his jeans repeatedly. A stubby pencil appeared as if from nowhere, and he scribbled out a message to hold out in front of him.
If you want me to go, I will.