Before You
folder
Original - Misc › -Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
57
Views:
20,077
Reviews:
556
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
1
Category:
Original - Misc › -Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
57
Views:
20,077
Reviews:
556
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
1
Disclaimer:
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
Chapter Fifty-one
Edits have changed the partial. Please and thanks for a re-read.
A/N : Some of you may have received my email. Just taking a moment to post up some news. Until You has received a nomination to compete in the 12th Annual Preditors & Editors Readers’ Choice Poll for best published erotica for 2008. The voting requires name and email. I have voted supporting other authors numerous times. I assure you, this is a pro-level contest and not a mailing list generator. I have never gotten spam because of it.
Please take a moment of your time and vote. Don’t forget to confirm.
Having a slash romance win would help open the way for m/m romance writers looking for publishers. It shows there’s a market. As an editor myself, I want to start a new line for them.
http://www.critters.org/predpoll/novelerot.shtml
Thanks ever so much.
~ K ~
CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE
Roth gazed down as their air transport slowly lowered. From the bird’s eye vantage, he watched the period reproduction Blood Vengeance glide from the harbor. Big and dangerous-looking despite her recreation service, she cut the blue-green water with powerful grace. Her sails filled with wind, crew and resort guests moved over the deck.
It made him wonder what his ancestors must have seen, the world they lived in.
Touchdown via helicopter on the concrete pad of the villa’s watch tower roof. Most people flew or sailed to Jamaica before hopping a second transport. Nathan, Joseph, Roth, Adam and their modest army of FBI agent guards had arrived directly.
They descended the turning steps of the coquina watch tower. Roth smiled, watching his traveling companions sort of gawk at the luxury and historical richness.
Staff greeted them with enough enthusiasm to make Joseph preen, Nathan and Adam flush. Roth chuckled inwardly. Looking to Gitte, one of the current managers, he waved. “Bridgitte, sweet, I have the tree house reserved with meals for two, and the Eighteen-eighty-four cottage for my friends.”
She embraced him, whispering, “You’re returned to us, Roth.”
Savoring the connection and her scent, he replied, “I am. Make sure they have all considerations. On me.”
Staff met them on the front lawn with a tour buggy. They got in, knowing luggage would come delivered via staff.
Roth inhaled, dragging the scents of sea, frangipani, rose, and the Caribbean air into his lungs. This island called to him with the blood of his ancestors. The gloriously fallen and elegantly aged. He loved it here, shared an undeniable tie with all his family to always consider this sandy soil the womb of the Garretts and their kin.
Joseph glanced around as they rode toward the town. “This place is amazing.”
Adam, holding Roth’s hand, increased his grip briefly, though held quiet. He wondered what his lover thought about it all. Hopefully, the man would relax and find escape here.
Nathan said, “I guess I get your family’s influence now.”
He smiled. Nathan had aided in the rescue of Roth’s brother, Ridge. A few minor miracles had accompanied it. “We’re very blessed.”
At town center, Adam seemed in awe of the treatment they received and the island in general. Roth had considered their relationship lately and contacted staff via his laptop. He arranged a lovers’ experience. His man deserved pampering.
Nathan and Joseph went off to their retreat.
Roth and Adam’s transport bumped over sand ditches to the tree house.
His partner kept silent during the tour.
Then, “This house is an architectural marvel.”
He admired the residence built around a living tree, considering how an outsider might view it. “A familial treasure.”
The driver hurried to open windowless half-doors and welcome them. “Mr. Garrett, expect your luggage within the half hour.”
He replied, “Thanks.” Tipping the man, he walked his lover to the lift. Roth closed the gate. “Up we go.”
In the kitchen, a fifth of Stoli reposed on a bed of chipped ice with twin square-cut rock glasses waiting. Adam poured a healthy measure of vodka and helped himself to a half sandwich from a chilled platter. Roast beef, lettuce and tomato showed in the layers.
Roth smiled as he met his lover’s gaze. “Feeling more free?”
Nodding, Adam chewed and swallowed before replying. “I had started to feel like an inmate.” He sipped Stoli. “In a mental ward.” He polished of the sandwich with admirable speed.
Roth smiled watching his man’s appetite, poured himself a glass of liquor. “Let’s walk on the beach,” he lifted his libation, “with these.” The agents they had traveled with roamed the island like guard dogs. Island coast security patrolled in speed boats, heavily armed, radar-equipped, with jet ski skirmishers capable of dispatch at a moment’s notice. No one from the Napolitano faction could manage a hit.
The womb of the Garrett family cradled them.
They shed their shirts, socks and shoes. Jean-clad, they descended in the lift and walked out to where sand met sea. Roth shifted his glass to his other hand and reached to lace Adam’s fingers with his own. “I only shared this place with her.” He lifted his drink and took a long swallow. The cold fluid sent a mushroom cloud of warmth up into his head. “She’d approve of you.”
Adam halted, causing him to as well. His lover separated their grasp and bent to pick up a much-worn shard of peach and pink-hued shell. “Your brother-in-law, Jason?”
“Yes.” Just hearing the name did something to Roth. The man had saved his brother’s life at risk of his own. He adored him.
Straightening, Adam offered the warm piece of shell. “He wears a necklace that I remember through the haze.”
“It’s hers.” Roth accepted the shard, rubbing its smoothness, wondering at its age. He slipped it into his front pocket.
“I wish I could hate her.” Adam’s admission emerged softly.
His heart jerked. “Why?”
“Because you loved her first.” Adam’s large, liquid violet eyes met his. “I think about her a lot.” The warm foamy surf washed over their feet, and a seagull cried overhead. “I think she taught you to love because she knew I would need you so desperately.” He swilled liquor, lifted his glass, muscles along his strong jaw working. “To Katherine. Our Savior.”
Roth’s throat closed. He had no words, so he lifted his drink in salute.
A/N : Some of you may have received my email. Just taking a moment to post up some news. Until You has received a nomination to compete in the 12th Annual Preditors & Editors Readers’ Choice Poll for best published erotica for 2008. The voting requires name and email. I have voted supporting other authors numerous times. I assure you, this is a pro-level contest and not a mailing list generator. I have never gotten spam because of it.
Please take a moment of your time and vote. Don’t forget to confirm.
Having a slash romance win would help open the way for m/m romance writers looking for publishers. It shows there’s a market. As an editor myself, I want to start a new line for them.
http://www.critters.org/predpoll/novelerot.shtml
Thanks ever so much.
~ K ~
CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE
Roth gazed down as their air transport slowly lowered. From the bird’s eye vantage, he watched the period reproduction Blood Vengeance glide from the harbor. Big and dangerous-looking despite her recreation service, she cut the blue-green water with powerful grace. Her sails filled with wind, crew and resort guests moved over the deck.
It made him wonder what his ancestors must have seen, the world they lived in.
Touchdown via helicopter on the concrete pad of the villa’s watch tower roof. Most people flew or sailed to Jamaica before hopping a second transport. Nathan, Joseph, Roth, Adam and their modest army of FBI agent guards had arrived directly.
They descended the turning steps of the coquina watch tower. Roth smiled, watching his traveling companions sort of gawk at the luxury and historical richness.
Staff greeted them with enough enthusiasm to make Joseph preen, Nathan and Adam flush. Roth chuckled inwardly. Looking to Gitte, one of the current managers, he waved. “Bridgitte, sweet, I have the tree house reserved with meals for two, and the Eighteen-eighty-four cottage for my friends.”
She embraced him, whispering, “You’re returned to us, Roth.”
Savoring the connection and her scent, he replied, “I am. Make sure they have all considerations. On me.”
Staff met them on the front lawn with a tour buggy. They got in, knowing luggage would come delivered via staff.
Roth inhaled, dragging the scents of sea, frangipani, rose, and the Caribbean air into his lungs. This island called to him with the blood of his ancestors. The gloriously fallen and elegantly aged. He loved it here, shared an undeniable tie with all his family to always consider this sandy soil the womb of the Garretts and their kin.
Joseph glanced around as they rode toward the town. “This place is amazing.”
Adam, holding Roth’s hand, increased his grip briefly, though held quiet. He wondered what his lover thought about it all. Hopefully, the man would relax and find escape here.
Nathan said, “I guess I get your family’s influence now.”
He smiled. Nathan had aided in the rescue of Roth’s brother, Ridge. A few minor miracles had accompanied it. “We’re very blessed.”
At town center, Adam seemed in awe of the treatment they received and the island in general. Roth had considered their relationship lately and contacted staff via his laptop. He arranged a lovers’ experience. His man deserved pampering.
Nathan and Joseph went off to their retreat.
Roth and Adam’s transport bumped over sand ditches to the tree house.
His partner kept silent during the tour.
Then, “This house is an architectural marvel.”
He admired the residence built around a living tree, considering how an outsider might view it. “A familial treasure.”
The driver hurried to open windowless half-doors and welcome them. “Mr. Garrett, expect your luggage within the half hour.”
He replied, “Thanks.” Tipping the man, he walked his lover to the lift. Roth closed the gate. “Up we go.”
In the kitchen, a fifth of Stoli reposed on a bed of chipped ice with twin square-cut rock glasses waiting. Adam poured a healthy measure of vodka and helped himself to a half sandwich from a chilled platter. Roast beef, lettuce and tomato showed in the layers.
Roth smiled as he met his lover’s gaze. “Feeling more free?”
Nodding, Adam chewed and swallowed before replying. “I had started to feel like an inmate.” He sipped Stoli. “In a mental ward.” He polished of the sandwich with admirable speed.
Roth smiled watching his man’s appetite, poured himself a glass of liquor. “Let’s walk on the beach,” he lifted his libation, “with these.” The agents they had traveled with roamed the island like guard dogs. Island coast security patrolled in speed boats, heavily armed, radar-equipped, with jet ski skirmishers capable of dispatch at a moment’s notice. No one from the Napolitano faction could manage a hit.
The womb of the Garrett family cradled them.
They shed their shirts, socks and shoes. Jean-clad, they descended in the lift and walked out to where sand met sea. Roth shifted his glass to his other hand and reached to lace Adam’s fingers with his own. “I only shared this place with her.” He lifted his drink and took a long swallow. The cold fluid sent a mushroom cloud of warmth up into his head. “She’d approve of you.”
Adam halted, causing him to as well. His lover separated their grasp and bent to pick up a much-worn shard of peach and pink-hued shell. “Your brother-in-law, Jason?”
“Yes.” Just hearing the name did something to Roth. The man had saved his brother’s life at risk of his own. He adored him.
Straightening, Adam offered the warm piece of shell. “He wears a necklace that I remember through the haze.”
“It’s hers.” Roth accepted the shard, rubbing its smoothness, wondering at its age. He slipped it into his front pocket.
“I wish I could hate her.” Adam’s admission emerged softly.
His heart jerked. “Why?”
“Because you loved her first.” Adam’s large, liquid violet eyes met his. “I think about her a lot.” The warm foamy surf washed over their feet, and a seagull cried overhead. “I think she taught you to love because she knew I would need you so desperately.” He swilled liquor, lifted his glass, muscles along his strong jaw working. “To Katherine. Our Savior.”
Roth’s throat closed. He had no words, so he lifted his drink in salute.