With just two more books to go I again tell you about A.J. Downey and this time her fourth book (labeled 3.5). So, instead of the ‘about the author’ I’ve posted the past three times (Interested? Look under Authors on my page.) I am going to tell you what I know of this woman through my own interactions with her. We met online through a NaNoWriMo group. That’s National November Writing Month for those of you who aren’t in the know. It’s an event each November (Camp NaNo in July) where authors from all around the world get together to write 50,000 words in a month. Most of us donate to this event to benefit children’s reading and writing. (Check it out at NaNoWriMo.)
A.J. Downey is a person of lively and compassionate character who lives in Seattle, WA with her fiancé and cat. She sticks up for what she believes in and lends a helping hand when she can. She takes her writing and character attributes from the things she observes everywhere. She’s always studying people, situations, etc. This makes her characters realistic and easy to relate to. Her personality bleeds through the pages of her books allowing her readers an insight into her unique mind. I encourage you to take a peak at a few I’ve posted and the ones to come. Here I will provide the excerpt, summary, and a review. There will also be links available to purchase her books or read her blog. Enjoy and make sure you leave her a review if you read a book. Authors need those.
Squick has been a longtime fixture of The Sacred Heart’s MC. His boss, Trigger, is their Sargent at Arms after all. It took a while for him to put together a bike to become an official hangaround then prospect and he was pretty thrilled that his other boss, Zander, took the plunge with him. Still, Squick is hiding something, something big that could test friendships, destroy relationships and it has become a mask that is becoming increasingly difficult for him to wear.
Squick is miserable, there’s no denying it, and of course now that he is on the very cusp of patching in, that’s when Aaron walks in to his life. Suddenly it’s do or die… Come out to the club and lose the brotherhood and the only sense of true family he has ever known, or don’t and lose them anyways when they find out about Aaron. Squick doesn’t see a third option, and the deeper he gets in to his situation the more his misery compounds. Just what will he do?
“I knew I was different in about the fourth or fifth grade,” I whispered. “While most of the other boys were starting to notice Nikki Stratford’s budding tits, I was noticing how well Michael Donovan was filling out through the shoulders. It only got worse. I was into choir while the rest of the dudes were getting into sports. I liked drama and art class and the name calling started,” my voice hitched. These were not my favorite moments of history to relive. Like at all.
“I was fifteen when I came out to my parents and my dad first kicked my ass and then kicked my ass out.” Aaron made a sympathetic noise and I shook my head. “Don’t, don’t do that. I don’t want to be pitied,” I said and my voice came out harsher than I meant it to. Aaron cupped my face in his hands and forced me to look at him.
“Sympathize? Yes. Empathize? Yes. Pity you? What for?” he smiled and this tightness in my chest eased.
“What about you?” I asked, needing to get the topic of conversation off of me for a minute.
“About the same. I managed to hide it for the most part. I played baseball, took a girlfriend, went through the motions until I moved away from home. Got into college and everything is different in college,” he smiled like I should know and I shook my head. He looked surprised.
“Dad kicked my ass out when I was fifteen, remember?” I leveled Aaron with a steady gaze as I continued, “Disowned me; told my mother and my sister I was dead to them. I had this friend in high school, my only friend really, Sarah Warren. She and her mom took me in. Let me sleep on their couch for a while but Sarah’s mom was barely making ends meet. I tried to get out and find a job. Had to drop out of school… My art was what kept me going. I would draw as a way to escape.” I closed my eyes, this next bit was a bitch to talk about.
“When it got cold, I would beg for enough change… I needed a buck twenty-four. A buck twenty four was my ticket to paradise man. There was this shitty fucking diner and a buck twenty four would buy me a bottomless cup of coffee. Which not only warmed me up, but gave me a warm place to sit all day and helped when I got hungry. I learned pretty damned quick to lie my fucking ass off when somebody asked my age. I was fifteen fucking years old,” I scrubbed my face with my hands, breathed deep and breathed out.
I had done some shit, a lot of shit, that I am just plain not fucking proud of back then just to survive. You get fucking hungry enough or cold enough you’d do just about anything. I’d had to hustle, fucking steal, fight my way out of more situations… I’d done just about every drug known to man just to fucking forget where I was, who I was, what I was that had landed me in some of the shittiest fucking places. I didn’t want to think about it. I didn’t even fucking know why I was telling Aaron any of this… other than he was the first and only person I had ever, never lied to and I didn’t want to start now.
“You don’t have to tell me anymore right now,” he started when I’d been silent too long, “I just… I just want to know you Andy, you’re different than anyone else I’ve ever met. Truer, more honest somehow,” he looked at me, eyes bright and I scoffed. If only he knew how fucking far off the mark he was.
“I like you Aaron. Don’t know what it is about you but you’re fucking electric,” I told him and he smiled. We kissed and that charge thrilled through my lips and went straight to my cock.
“Make you breakfast?” he asked softly against my mouth.
“I’d like that,” I said and let him go.
Connie’s Reviews > Masked & Miserable
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