Counting Down releases in just over two weeks, so I figured it might be time to post a few excerpts! And, you know, let you all know I have a book coming out soon. 😀
It’s up for pre-order everywhere:
Amazon | Amazon UK | B&N | Kobo | iBooks | Dreamspinner Press
Read the first chapter at Dreamspinner Press.
In this excerpt, Marc and Henry are swapping worst date stories. Marc’s worst date may or may not be based on an actual date I might or might not have been on…
“Tell me about your worst date.”
“Hmm, worst date.” Marc consulted the clock in his head before dredging up a seven-year-old memory. “Kate Merton. That was New Year’s Eve too. I made the mistake of going home for the holidays, and my parents told me I was taking Kate to the party at the country club.”
“Told you?”
“Mr. and Mrs. Winnamore request your presence….” Marc scoffed. “That’s an invitation to breakfast.”
“Chummy.”
“You have no idea.”
Henry’s ankles closed around his again and held this time.
“I already knew Kate,” Marc continued. “We grew up together in a way. I mean, I didn’t do a lot of growing up at home. I was shipped off to prep school as soon I was old enough.”
“How did you get from prep school to BU?”
“My one act of rebellion.” With a quick smile, he returned Henry’s ankle hug. “Or my first, I guess. Staying in Boston and choosing my own career does not sit well with Mr. and Mrs. Winnamore.”
Henry snorted softly.
“So, Kate. We saw each other some summers. She’s…. If I had to get married, she’d be a good choice. Even my parents agree on that one.”
“If you had to get married.”
Marc shrugged.
“The date?” Henry prompted.
“I was pissed at my parents, so I got drunk. Sailed right past friendly to nasty. Or maybe friendly wasn’t an option that night. I was loud, abrasive. Rude.”
“You, rude?”
“Heh. Seriously, you have no idea what an ass I can be.”
Henry’s silence suggested he might.
“Worst part was that Kate tried really hard to enjoy herself. She made excuses for me and managed to pull me away before at least one fight erupted.”
“Wow. How drunk were you?”
“I tried to have sex with her on one of the pool lounges. In full display of the dining room windows.”
“I think you’re describing Kate’s worst date ever.”
“Probably.”
“How far did you get?”
“With what?”
“The sex. Did you moon the dining room?”
A laugh pushed out of Marc’s throat, surprising him. “You know, I don’t recall. Though I do sort of remember the feeling of a cool breeze on my ass. So it’s entirely possible I did. But with the inside being lit and the pool deck dark, it was probably a pretty private affair.”
His parents had certainly never mentioned it. Thank Christ.
Another silence from Henry, this one weighted with questions. Marc nudged his foot.
“Did you know, then, that you might be gay?” Henry asked.
Marc shook his head. “No. I mean… no. It wasn’t that I was in denial. I didn’t secretly watch gay porn or anything. Not then.” That habit had started after Henry arrived at Beck and Meyer. “I was just angry. I wanted to like Kate. I did like her. I’ve liked a lot of the women I’ve dated. But none of them….” Marc paused again as a blush crawled up to his cheeks. None of the women he’d been out with, or slept with, excited him the way Henry did. He’d never obsessed over the physical characteristics of any of the women he’d dated, and the act of sex had always felt mechanical.
Kelly Jensen 
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