Title: It Could
Happen
Author: Mia
Kerick
Release Date:
June 5th 2017
Genre: New Adult,
MMM Romance
BLURB
Three misfits, mismatched in every way—Henry Perkins,
Brody Decker, and Danny Denisco—have been friends throughout high school. Now
in their senior year, the boys realize their relationship is changing, that
they’re falling in love. But they face opposition at every turn—from outside
and from within themselves. Moving to the next level will take all the courage,
understanding, and commitment they can muster. But it could happen.
Henry is a star athlete and the son of religious parents
who have little concern for the future he wants. Brody is a quirky dreamer and
adrenaline junkie, and Danny is an emo artist and the target of bullies.
Despite their differences they’ve always had each other’s backs, and with each
of them facing a new and unique set of challenges, that support is more
important than ever. Is it worth risking the friendship they all depend on for
the physical and romantic relationship they all desire?
In this unconventional new adult romance, three gay teens
brave societal backlash—as well as the chance that they might lose their
treasured friendship—to embark on a committed polyamorous relationship.
Purchase: Amazon US | Amazon UK | DSP (ebook) | DSP (paperback)
Find It Could
Happen on Goodreads
EXCERPT
That was when Henry forgot all about keeping quiet,
jerked at the door handle like a madman, and yelled, “Let us in! Let us in!”
It was like a miracle when the door slowly swung open.
Danny stood in front of us wearing this strange, old-fashioned, white-nightgown
thing he must have found at a thrift shop, because they sure don’t sell them at
the outlet mall where I shop. If he were clutching a candleholder, he would
have looked like an orphan in a Dickens’ novel. Danny’s fine black hair was
rumpled and stuck to his head, and, like Henry said, his eyes were both
blackened and swollen. His bottom lip was puffy too.
“What the fuck?” Henry didn’t shout it. He just asked.
Then he rushed to Danny and hugged him. I couldn’t see Danny at all because he
was swallowed up in Henry’s embrace, so I used the time to collect myself. I’m
the one who’s supposed to keep my act together. I swallowed over and over until
the lump in my throat went away, and when Henry finally let Danny go, I closed
the door and told them to sit down on the bed.
Danny was oddly obedient. He took Henry’s arm and led him
to the bed. While they pushed back the rumpled sheet and blankets and sat down,
I stood in front of them and asked, “What happened to you, Danny?”
He said, “Nothing,” flopped back on the bed, and pulled a
pillow over his head.
So I asked again, “What happened to your face?”
The pillow muffled Danny’s voice, but it sounded like he
said, “It’s not just my face.” Henry reached down and pulled the nightgown up
to Danny’s knees. His legs were covered in cuts and bruises, as though he’d
been kicked in the shins too many times to count.
“I’m gonna fuckin’ kill him.” I think Henry was the one
to say this, but it could as easily have been me.
EXCLUSIVE EXCERPT
Here is an exclusive excerpt about Danny, Henry, and Brody’s
Accepted Student Visit to Prospect University.
I was surprised when I woke up this
morning and I wasn’t in my bed. I was even more surprised when I opened my eyes
and saw a very close-up view of tight, black curls. Henry’s scalp was so
close to my nose I could smell his Henry smell. He was still out cold, though,
with his sweaty forehead plastered to my left shoulder. The frosting on the
cake was my right hand curved around Danny’s chest—as in, I was holding on to
his right pec. Like it was a boob. On top of his T-shirt, but still, it was a
surprising situation to find myself in.
I made the unsurprising choice to
stay as still as a tree—you know, on a day with no wind—because I want to make
the closeness last.
But soon I had to fight the urge to
stretch. I tend to be overly active, and stretching out my muscles when I wake
up is a habit that has apparently turned into a need. Plus you can’t fart when
you’re in close quarters like that, and the amount of beans I consume as a
protein source leads to excessive gas.
On top of all that, nature called my
name because I sucked down every last drop of an extra- large caramel soy latte
right before we fell asleep on the common- room floor. But since I was caught
between a rock and a hard place, or, more accurately, between the forehead and
right pec of my two boyfriends, I didn’t move a muscle. And I tried like hell
to enjoy that moment of unexpected intimacy—even if I was the only one awake to
enjoy it.
At that point Henry rubbed his nose
against my bicep. It was memorable enough to write down because of how
completely un- Henry-like it was—so spontaneous and unaware. And again I was
surprised.
Then my hand—the one cupped over
Danny’s pec—involuntarily flinched. It wasn’t a boob squeeze. I was not feeling him up. It was merely an unintentional and unified
movement of all my finger muscles, probably a result of my fierce need to pee.
I knew that if I didn’t answer nature’s call, I was going to embarrass myself
in a very wet way, which wasn’t how I wanted to start an accepted-student
overnight at my first— only—choice college.
So I tried to slide my hand off
Danny’s chest as my first move to extricate myself from that awesome tangle.
“Stop fidgeting,” Danny murmured.
“I’ve got to pee. I’ve almost waited too long.” I decided to be brutally honest.
“Jesus,” he said and rolled away from
me.
I took advantage of the moment, slid
out, and headed to the bathroom.
The three of us were staying in a
three-bedroom, one-bathroom suite in a huge brick dormitory at Prospect
University. Although we requested to be placed in the same suite, we’d each
been assigned to share a room with a stranger, so we ended up sleeping on top
of Henry and Danny’s sleeping bags with my sleeping bag draped over us on the
common-room floor, instead of in our assigned bunk beds. The floor was hard and
uncomfortable, but the company made up for it. We didn’t think there was enough
privacy to fool around, but being close to one another all night long was good
enough—not that we weren’t all horny as hell by the time we fell asleep.
When I got back to the common room,
Henry was awake. “Morning, Perky. Hmm... you don’t look too perky,” I said to
him. “I’m hungry, I guess,” he said, but I knew that coming with us was
hard for Henry to do. But he did. For the first time, Henry told his parents
what he was going to do, instead of the other way around, and they didn’t like
it one bit. I’m pretty sure he’s still dealing with having bucked their
authority, because Henry’s a pleaser, and all he ever wanted was to make his
parents proud—until we became us. And now there’s something he wants
more.
“You sure you’re doing okay?” I
dropped onto the nest of sleeping bags, right beside where Henry was lying on
his belly, and put my hands on the bare skin of his back. It felt so weird that
I could do that, but Henry’s mine, and I can touch him if I want. As long as no
one wanders into the common room and catches us.
I rubbed his back, and he moaned
softly, which was the lure that drew Danny in. Danny slid over so he was on his
belly right beside Henry, and he put an arm across Henry’s lower back. I moved
one hand to Danny’s shoulder and squeezed. It was amazing to have Henry’s big
muscles under one palm and Danny’s wiry ones under the other—and to know they
were both mine.
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About the
Author
Mia
Kerick is the mother of four exceptional children—a daughter in law school,
another in dance school, a third studying at Mia’s alma mater, Boston College,
and her lone son still in high school.
She writes LGBTQ romance when not editing National Honor Society essays,
offering opinions on college and law school applications, helping to create
dance bios, and reviewing English papers. Her husband of twenty-four years has
been told by many that he has the patience of Job, but don’t ask Mia about
this, as it is a sensitive subject.
Mia
focuses her stories on emotional growth in turbulent relationships. As she has
a great affinity for the tortured hero, there is, at minimum, one in each book.
As a teen, Mia filled spiral-bound notebooks with tales of said tortured heroes
(most of whom happened to strongly resemble lead vocalists of 1980s big-hair
bands) and stuffed them under her mattress for safekeeping. She is thankful to
Dreamspinner Press and Harmony Ink Press for providing alternate places to
stash her stories.
Her
books have won a Best YA Lesbian Rainbow Award, a Reader Views’ Book by Book
Publicity Literary Award, the Jack Eadon Award for Best Book in Contemporary
Drama, an Indie Fab Award, and a Royal Dragonfly Award for Cultural Diversity,
among other awards.
Mia is
a Progressive, a little bit too obsessed by politics, and cheers for each and
every victory in the name of human rights. Her only major regret: never having
taken typing or computer class in school, destining her to a life consumed with
two-fingered pecking and constant prayer to the Gods of Technology.
Contact Mia at miakerick@gmail.com. Visit her website for updates on what is going on in Mia’s world, rants,
music, parties, and pictures, and maybe even a little bit of inspiration.
Thank you for posting today xx
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