Title: Scarred
Author: Mia Kerick
Publisher: NineStar Press
Release Date: December 31, 2018
Heat Level: 3 - Some Sex
Pairing: Male/Male
Length: 68500
Genre: Contemporary, contemporary, PTSD, dissociative disorder, stalking, kidnapping, homophobia, family issues
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Synopsis
Even in paradise, beautiful faces can
hide scarred souls.
ONE tropical island.
Placida Island’s gentle ocean breezes
and rolling surf beckon to those who wish to reside in remote tropical
serenity.
TWO men living in self-imposed exile.
Wearing twisted ropes of mutilated skin
on his back and carrying devastating damage in his soul from severe childhood
abuse, Matthew North lives alone in a rustic cabin on the shore, avoiding human
contact.
Gender fluidity his perceived “crime”
against family and friends, Vedie Wilson flees his childhood home so he can
freely express his identity.
THREE persecutors seeking their warped
view of justice.
Vedie’s past refuses to stay in the
faraway city he left behind when family members, intent on forcing him to
change, threaten the precious peace he’s found.
TOO MANY scars to count.
Their beautiful faces masking deeply
scarred souls, Matt and Vedie live in hiding from the world and each other.
Can they unite and embrace each other’s
painful pasts, leaving the scars behind, to find love?
Excerpt
Vedie
By ten, I’m sweaty as a deckhand from
bussing tables on the beach, and I’m sorely in need of a brew or six. But
seeing as I’ve got no cash to burn, I’m gonna have to leave my coworkers—who’re
revving up over by the tiki bar—to their night of hard partying. I grab my
leopard-print backpack from the hook on the back wall of the bar and head to
the men’s room to turn into the other me.
And just as I figured, Joey’s waiting on
me there. “You gonna come party with us tonight, sweet Vedie?”
“No can do, Joey, much as I want to.”
Safe inside a stall, I pull off my sweaty green The Only Tiki Hut on Placida
Island work T-shirt. As soon as I replace it with a dark red, stretchy lace
off-the-shoulder number, I can breathe easy. Next, I strip off my khaki shorts
and yank on my favorite black velvet pair. Even though I’ve gotta ride my bike
home, I kick my high-tops into my backpack and slide on a pair of jeweled
flip-flops. After taking a quick piss, I head out of the stall and plant my ass
in front of the mirror beside Joey, who’s standing there like he’s got nothing
better to do than count the drips of water leaking from the faucet.
“Lookin’ good, pretty Miss
Vedie…mmmhmm…”
No matter if I’m dressed like a dude or
a lady, Joey always stares at me like I’m a juicy bowl of strawberry
shortcake—he licks his lips, and I know he wants to take himself a nice big
bite of a flavor he can’t get at home. Then he slaps his hand hard against my
thigh, and creepy-slow, it climbs my leg. It’s headed for my ass cheek, or my
name ain’t Vedie Wilson.
“Hands out of the cookie jar, Joey, my
man.” I don’t appreciate it when any dude gropes me without asking for
permission first. But the sad truth is I’m never gonna want Joey’s hands on me.
While he gawks, I pull a shimmery hairband out of my bag and wrap it around my
head to hold the damp dreads off my face. “Got yourself a sweet tooth, looks
like, Joey. You’d be wise to get your ass home to your sweet wife, not that you
asked me for no words of wisdom.”
“Not gonna even think about goin’ home
’til I had me some fun,” Joey replies, jamming his hand in his pocket—probably
to keep it from curving around my ass.
When I bend to rinse the sweat off my
face, he stays quiet and doesn’t goose me. Maybe this time he heard what I told
him about getting his ass home to Mrs. Joey. But more likely he’s checking out
my butt.
“Baybeee…uh-huh…mmmhmm…nice ass you got
there in them sweet little shorts…”
I sigh real loud, “I’ve got some shit to
do here, big dawg, so if that’s all you wanted.” The only way to get this guy
to take a hike is to tell him point-blank that he’s gotta head on out. “Catch
ya on the flip side.”
He leans in so close his scratchy beard
brushes my neck, and I shiver in the bad way. He takes a deep sniff—I guess he
likes the smell of sweaty dude—and then finally bails. And right about now, I
sorely wish the tiki hut restaurant had one of those one-person anything goes
restrooms—for a dude, a lady, or whoever you feel like at the moment—but at
least now I’m finally alone in the men’s room.
I pull out my makeup bag and quickly
powder my nose so it doesn’t shine in the moonlight, and I glide a deep shade
of maroon over my lips. But I take the time to be an artist with my eyeliner
and mascara because I figure eyes oughta say something. When I look good enough
that I’d wanna do me if I got hot for ladies, I figure I’m looking good enough
for public viewing. And my new perfume smells like the freedom I’ve got down
here on Placida Island—coconuts and wildflowers and the ocean and honey. I
spray it on heavy all over my neck and chest.
As I saunter out of the men’s room, I
don’t miss that it’s funny how I went in here looking all-dude, but coming out,
you could mistake me for a lady. Ha! More like a red-hot, sexy mama—smooth and
silky everywhere except for the four-day beard.
I’m a guy, though, even when I’m dressed
this fine. And in my opinion—not that anybody gives two shits what I think—the
combo of smooth legs and a stubbly chin says, in your face, assholes! I don’t
have to choose how I show myself to the world anymore.
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Meet the Author
Mia Kerick is the mother of four
exceptional children—one in law school, another at a dance conservatory, a
third studying at Mia’s alma mater, Boston College, and her lone son still in
high school. She has published more than twenty books of 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-five 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 the emotional
growth of troubled young people and their relationships. She has a great
affinity for the tortured hero in literature, and as a teen, Mia filled
spiral-bound notebooks with tales of tortured heroes and stuffed them under her
mattress for safekeeping. She is thankful to NineStar Press for providing her
with an alternate place to stash her stories.
Her books have been featured in Kirkus
Reviews magazine, and have won Rainbow Awards for Best Transgender Contemporary
Romance and Best YA Lesbian Fiction, 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 Kerick is a social liberal and
cheers for each and every victory made 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 or visit at
www.miakerickya.com to see what is going on in Mia’s world.
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