nearly as long, in a losing battle to make the fictional voices stop. She credits an early fascination with male friendships (bromance hadn’t been coined yet back then) with her later discovery of and subsequent love affair with m/m romance stories. A.M. Arthur’s work is available from Carina Press, SMP Swerve, and Briggs-King Books.
When not exorcising the voices in her head, she toils away in a retail job that tests her patience and gives her lots of story fodder. She can also be found in her kitchen, pretending she’s an amateur chef and trying to not poison herself or others with her cuisine experiments.
Contact her at am_arthur@yahoo.com with your cooking tips (or book comments). For updates, info and the occasional freebie, sign up for her free newsletter: https://vr2.verticalresponse.com/s/signupformynewsletter16492674416904
A series of failed relationships with women has left Detective Nathan Wolf still single at thirty-four—because he’s too scared to admit to his longtime crush on his best friend James.
Read on for an excerpt of Getting It Right,
the next installment in the Restoration series
by A.M. Arthur.
Getting It Right
by A.M. Arthur
Chapter One
Never said I’d let you fuck me...Get off...Let go!
Ezra’s words chased themselves around James Taggert’s mind as he stalked down the sidewalk, away from Pot O Gold, desperate to stuff his hands into his too-tight jeans pockets to keep them from trembling. Never in his life had he acted like such a selfish asshole and allowed a situation to get that out of control. He stopped a few blocks from the bar he’d abandoned and leaned against the cool bricks of a closed Mexican grocery store. He needed to apologize to Ezra, but he was too embarrassed and too drunk to make it as genuine as Ezra deserved.
His phone was at his ear, the other end buzzing.
“Jay?” Nathan Wolf’s voice was a balm to his frazzled nerves. “What’s wrong? It’s after midnight.”
“Price is getting out.”
“Shit, when did you find out? Where are you?”
Having a best friend who knew all of his sordid backstory made times like this so much easier. “This afternoon. I’m outside the Pot. I’m fucked-up, Nate, and I did something. Something bad.”
“Stay put. I can be there in under ten.”
The phone call ended, but the calm of talking to Nathan was taking some of the edge off his panic. He tapped a cigarette out of the crumpled pack in his back pocket. Thumbed the lighter. He took a long drag, letting the smoke fill his lungs to choking before releasing it hard through his nose. The stinging helped sober him up a bit more. He stared at the smoldering end of one of his worst habits.
I really need to quit. Again.
He’d quit five times in the past ten years, but kicking a habit he’d picked up at fourteen was hard. And not even a serious consideration when the cigarette in his hand was the only thing keeping him from pacing like a lunatic while he waited for Nathan. He shouldn’t have come out tonight at all, not after the news he’d gotten, but what else was he supposed to do when he found out Stephen Price had made parole? Sit home and stew until the anger made him crazy? He’d dressed up, splashed on his best cologne and come down to his favorite watering hole for peach mojitos and cock. Irish pub by day and popular gay bar by night, Pot O Gold was his preferred destination for both.
He had walked in, ordered his first drink from Riley, one of his favorite bartenders, and then perused the pickings. A lot of familiar faces. A lot of guys he’d already fucked. He didn’t have a rule about fucking someone only once, but too many repeat performances and some guys got a little clingy. He wanted sex, not a relationship.
Ezra Kelley had caught his attention immediately. He’d seen Ezra around the Pot on and off for the past year or so, sometimes alone and sometimes with other people. Bar chatter said Ezra was a good fuck. James had taken in the tall, lean body, the spiky blond hair and silver stud in his eyebrow. Even the purple sleeveless top that matched the strange purple contact lenses had turned him on. Perhaps because Ezra was the exact physical opposite of what James really wanted and could never have.
He had claimed Ezra quickly. Dancing with him, drinks in hands, practically fucking with their clothes on. James downed more mojitos than he usually allowed himself, because the rum brought numbness. Numbness from the pain of