Anthem

This is the easiest two weeks of summer: both of my kids are at camp, and I have hours to myself at home. I’ve gotten a lot done in just two days, and I’m back to drafting a new manuscript. I don’t have enough to share yet, though. Maybe once we get to August.

Meanwhile, I’ve submitted a few things, and I’m participating in some online writing groups. I had a phase of feeling like a complete hack, which I’m sure all of us do from time to time. But finishing a short story and having it beta read made a world of difference.

On to the WIPpet. I’m still in Anthem, and guess what? Our guys are about to have their worlds collide. If you recall from last week, Andre wasn’t in the best spirits. This part immediately follows the previous snippet. (Just to remind you all from before, Trevor and Andre don’t know each other’s real names yet.)

WIPmath: 15 = 1 + 5 = 6 paragraphs

Andre slumped against the wall, closing his eyes and leaning his head back. He didn’t want to move. The thought of rearranging his body drained him of all his emotional energy.

Not yet having his television and other components set up and not in the mood to turn on his laptop—which wouldn’t have Internet until Tuesday anyway—he pulled out a book. It was a dense technical tome, exactly the sort of thing he needed in order to relax his mind and remove himself from any other thoughts. He dragged himself up the stairs, hauling the book.

Even the routine of undressing, washing up, and turning down the covers set his teeth on edge and made his head throb. There was no way to escape the grief that clung like vines, wrapping themselves around his chest and squeezing until he was sure they would press the life out of him. He’d been convinced moving back to the city was the right thing to do, but now he questioned it all. The ache was deeper, a longing for everything he’d left behind mere hours earlier.

He curled on his side, the book splayed open on the bed beside him. For a few minutes, he stared at it, the words running together on the page. Andre closed it again, intending to sleep, but it was too early and he wasn’t tired. He sat up and reached for his phone, where he had a couple of podcasts stored. Plugging in his earbuds, he opened the app and searched for one he wanted. Most of them were on technical issues or gaming, all requiring too much thought. The history of jazz one reminded him too much of Dahlia. He settled on something called Discoveries in Worship, which sometimes had interesting commentary on contemporary church music.

“Hey, this is Trevor Davidson of Harvest Church in Boston. Tonight’s topic is bringing fresh perspective on old songs.”

Andre turned up the volume. He’d heard Trevor before; he appeared on the podcast about once a month, usually to talk about songwriting or how technology had changed the way church bands led worship. Trevor’s mellow voice continued. Feeling more awake, Andre sat up and devoted his full attention to the podcast. He smiled and settled in to listen to the rest of the hour, pleasantly distracted from his loneliness for the time being.

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Welcome, Wednesday! It’s officially the first day of summer vacation. We’ll see how much I actually get done with two kids home full-time for the next couple of months.

As promised, here is the video from the dress rehearsal of their Irish dance recital. This is there hard shoe dance. I’ll try to get their dance drama posted before next week if I’m not too busy breaking up fights. My son is the taller boy, all the way on the left. My daughter is the one next to the other boy. Their studio is the only non-competitive one in the area (that’s a whole other story).

On to this week’s WIPpet.

We’re back with Trevor and Andre because I’m not ready to switch over yet. (I know! I know! I promise more Cat for you when I’m done with all the edits for Anthem, but it’s tricky due to spoilers.) You may recall we left our guys deciding “not here” in the middle of the dance floor. As you can see from the snippet below, they clearly found somewhere to go. It probably wasn’t their best option, and there will be consequences neither of them intended.

WIPmath: 24th = 2 + 4 = 6 (- 1 because it’s the first day of summer vacation) = 5 paragraphs

Leaning in, Andre kissed Trey full on the mouth. Trey hummed against his lips, returning the light, tender embrace. Andre withdrew and gave Trey a peck on the cheek. The blush was back, but the look of ecstasy on Trey’s face slid away when their eyes met, replaced by panic. He began breathing rapidly again, but it was clearly no longer from pleasure. Fumbling a little, he tucked himself away and zipped his fly.

“You okay?” Andre asked, touching Trey’s trembling hand.

Trey shook his head and pulled his arm away. “I have to go,” he mumbled.

He yanked at the latch on the door and finally managed to get it open, nearly banging it into Andre’s nose on the way out. Andre hurriedly dragged his jeans back up and rushed after Trey. It was obvious the poor guy didn’t know how he felt about what they’d just done, and Andre didn’t want to leave things that way. By the time he got out into the hallway, there was no sign of Trey.

Andre leaned against the wall and blew out his breath. His pocket vibrated, and he pulled out his phone. It was a text from Julian asking where he was and how things had gone with “that blond hottie.” Andre ran a hand over his face before sending a text back saying, “I’ll give you your five dollars in the morning.” He shoved his phone back in his pocket and closed his eyes, knowing he would have to endure Julian’s questions the entire train ride home. Huffing, he pushed off the wall and walked slowly out of the hallway.

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It’s Wednesday! This weekend marks the last of the Big Events for my kids. Unfortunately, that means two dance recitals in one weekend. The cool thing is the dance drama they’re doing for Irish dance. Then one more week of dance classes (party time!), less than two weeks of school, and…summer vacation! (For them, not really for me.) As much as I love watching my kids perform, it’s also nice to have it behind us.

I’m working on several projects at once, since I have several things due this summer. I’m not sure how much more I’m going to post on Anthem and whether I’ll switch to another project or stick with this since it’s still in edits. I’m absolutely dying to share a bit of my Top Secret Project, so I’ll probably give you a teeny, tiny teaser at some point.

This week’s snippet follows last week’s. Andre has asked “Trey” (aka Trevor) to dance, and they may or may not be getting a bit carried away with New Year’s Eve festivities. This is steamy but not explicit, though there’s an implication something else might follow.

WIPmath: 6/10/15 = 10 + 15 = 25 – 6 = 19 sentences

The music and the booze coursed through Andre, and he leaned in closer. He and Trey were pushed together partly by the crowd and partly of their own volition. Inhaling deeply, he took in the scent of Trey’s skin, a heady combination of sweat, soap, and alcohol.

Andre took a chance. He leaned up to speak into Trey’s ear. “It’s customary to kiss someone at midnight.”

Trey’s breath tickled his face. “And how close are we to midnight?”

“Close enough.”

Trey slid his cheek against Andre’s, the rough stubble creating delicious friction just before their mouths joined. It should just have been a brief kiss, something to welcome January first and no more. Except once they’d started, it was like wildfire. Andre sensed a change in Trey, almost an animal hunger. He kissed Andre feverishly, and Andre returned it with equal intensity. In a matter of seconds, they were tangled in each other, panting, their mouths and hips moving together and Trey’s tongue exploring Andre’s. Trey’s palm made slow circles on Andre’s back, and Andre ran his fingers under Trey’s thick blond hair to touch his neck. For the next several minutes, Andre focused only on how good Trey’s body felt against his, the sounds of the band and the crowd fading into the background.

When Trey tried to slip a hand under Andre’s shirt, Andre gasped, and something clunked back into place. “Not here,” he said between breaths.

Well, if not here, then where? Because you know there’s a where. I promise, there’s a where—I’m just not giving the details in a snippet. Sorry to disappoint anyone who was hoping for something a bit hotter; you’ll just have to use your imagination.

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Happy Wednesday! I’m posting optimistically, meaning I hope to get to everyone’s WIPpet this week. But with so much going on, I can’t promise. We’re in the final two weeks of performance season. In less than two weeks, we will be done with everything—rehearsals, concerts, recitals—until September.

In other big news, my son’s school just announced next year’s musical. They’ll be doing The Sound of Music. My kiddo wants to try out as one of the von Trapps. We’ll see how it goes. Either way, both my kids are super excited, as that’s one of their favorite musicals.

For this week’s WIPpet, I’m still in the same scene. I’ll post this and one more next week, and then I have to find a new section to draw from because SPOILERS! If you recall, Andre just made a not-so-nice comment about the band (who happen to be Trevor’s roommates), and Trevor agreed. There’s a reference here to a woman named Dahlia, but if I tell you who she is, that would be—you got it—spoilers.

WIPmath: 6 + 3 = 9, plus a bonus = 10 paragraphs

Intrigued, Andre tilted his head. “What do you like, then?”

“If I’m out to be entertained, I like a little jazz. I wanted to be a jazz pianist when I was a kid.” He laughed. “Don’t know why I’m telling you this.”

Andre tilted his chin. “So, you play?”

“Yeah. Not jazz, though. At least, not anymore.” Trey silenced himself by taking a drink.

“I like a little jazz myself. There’s a great place not that far from here. Weekends, they have open mike. You should check it out sometime.” Andre’s throat tightened. He hadn’t meant to let it slip; the jazz cafe was where he’d met Dahlia. He brushed the memory away.

“Maybe I will.”

The music changed, and Andre set his empty glass down on the bar. The new song was tolerable. He turned to Trey and said, “So what do you say? You in the mood to dance?”

Trey shrugged. “Yeah, okay.”

He downed the rest of his beer surprisingly fast, and Andre raised his eyebrows, but Trey didn’t seem to notice. He followed Andre away from the bar and out among the crowd. It was too tightly packed for Andre’s taste, but he focused on Trey, and in no time they were moving to the music. Trey was surprisingly agile, leaving Andre content to let him lead. It didn’t take long to be caught up in the rhythm and the motion; they moved closer together, and Andre draped an arm around Trey’s shoulder. Trey stiffened, but he gradually relaxed into it and slipped his arm around Andre’s waist.

Whether it was the alcohol or the heat or the press of Trey’s body against his own, Andre wasn’t sure, but the tension felt good and his whole body was alive. The vague thought that he now owed Julian five dollars popped into his head, but he brushed it off so it wouldn’t spoil the moment.

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Hello, Wednesday, my old friend. I can’t believe it’s been another week already. I’ve mostly spent my time combing through my selection of short story competitions/open calls, deciding what to submit and where. I sent a couple off, and the one that really made me nervous involves an author friend of mine. There’s an extra layer when you know the person but they’ve never read your work because you usually write in different genres. This also marks the third time I’ve stepped out of my usual world of literary m/m to try my hand at something new.

Other than that, life goes on. We have three weeks until recital/concert season ends and just over four until school lets out. There’s so much to do between now and then, it’s not even funny. When it’s all over, I’ll be the one shriveled in a corner somewhere (because it’s too dang hot for a blanket fort anymore).

On to WIPpet. I’m sticking with this scene because this whole novel is one long spoiler. This all happens in the first few chapters, so I can share. The following is immediately after last week’s excerpt. You may recall that Julian pushed Andre in Trevor’s direction; this is the result. For anyone not from New England: Moxie is like root beer only yucky.

WIPmath: 5 + 26 + 2 + 0 + 1 + 5 = 39 sentences.

He sidled up to the other guy, whose eyes widened comically when he saw Andre. He opened his mouth like he was about to say something, thought better of it, and clamped his lips shut. Andre shook his head. They were both out of their element, and knowing that put him at ease.

“Hey,” he said. He nodded at the guy’s glass. “What are you drinking?”

“Moxie,” the man said then snorted. “Boring. Sorry.”

“You in the mood for something stronger? How about just a beer?”

“Uh…sure.” The man blushed again.

Andre ordered a couple of Sam Adams. When they showed up, he held his out to the blond man. “Cheers.” They clinked. “What’s your name?”

“Tr—Trey,” he stammered.

So, they were playing that game. Andre could spot a fake a mile away. “Fine, then, Trey. I’m…Antoine.”

Trey—or whoever he really was—ran a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry. I suck at this. I was just going to stay home and mope tonight, but my friend dragged me here.” He waved at the band. “We know those guys.”

Andre didn’t ask how they were associated. Instead, he nodded. “We seem to be in the same boat.” He took a swig of his beer and leaned closer. “Would you be offended if I said your friends aren’t that good?”

Trey jerked, and his eyebrows shot up. His lips curled upward on one side, and his eyes glinted with mischief. “Not at all. I thought it was just me.”

Well, I mean, with a name like Creepy Crullers, did you expect them to be good?

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