Kia Ora...

You never realise how much stuff you have...until you need to cram it all into boxes. So many forgotten things...and doubled up on things... but I'm slowly making my way through the house and shoving things into boxes in an order that probably only makes sense to me. Culling a lot things that we don't need any more, especially now that my kids are all growing up and becoming adults, though not quite to a Kondo standard of decluttering.

This week is the start of a new newsletter serial.... Running for Home (Switch Hitters 1) which I can't wait to share with you all. It is a story that has been languishing in my slush pile of story ideas (a pile that is of a considerable size) but never got finished as characters from other stories drowned those in Running for Home out. And maybe that was for the best as now this cast of characters get to spread their wings in a universe that has already been established.

But first...

Updates

Naomi Aoki

• I have hit publish on the paperback version of Winter Yakuza (Crime Reports Novella 1), and for Caught (Smoke and Shadows 1).

Mandy Greenwood

• I have started formatting Flex (Golden Decks Casino 1), the Crime Lords Series, and The Moutrams series for print.
• Preorder is still open for the O Deadly Night - MM Dark Charity Anthology... It is raising money for the Trevor Project.
• The Welcome to Greertown - Deleted and Bonus Scene compilation is currently being formatted and will be available soon.

MJ Green

• Runway Riot (House of Bolton 4) is still in the editing/formatting stage of the process.
• Until Death (House of Bolton Prequel) or also known as Albie and Gio's story is currently sitting at 11k words.

Bookfunnel Promotions

• Ruthless and Dark Romance Reads - Freebie Promotion
• Mafia Dons, Bad Boys, Bastards, and Possessive - Sales Promo

O Deadly Night: MM Dark Charity Anthology

Sometimes the happiest season of all is hiding the darkest secrets.

Twinkling lights and festive songs are in every shopping center and on every street corner. But what lurks in the dark alleys beyond the main street decorations? Who hides behind the joyful enthusiasts with a dangerous bah humbug attitude?

Join ten dark MM authors as they explore the darker half of the holidays while also spreading cheer and support to LGBTQ youth.

*O Deadly Night is a Dark MM anthology with all proceeds to be donated to The Trevor Project and featuring stories by:

Nicholas Bella

Abrianna Denae

Elouise R East

Taylor J Gray

Mandy Greenwood

Rorie Kage

Leigh Kenzie

Davidson King

Claire Marta

Faith Ryan

Preorder Your Copy Today!

Until Death (House of Bolton Prequel)

Newsletter Serial...

Running for Home (Switch Hitters 1)

• Retired Catcher x Pitcher
• Second Chance MM Romance
• Dealing with Career Ending Injury

TW: Depression, Anxiety/Panic Attacks

****

Chapter One

It was hard to sit above the field and…watch. To spectate the game from an unfamiliar position high above the diamond instead from crouched behind home plate. Mike knew it would’ve happened one day...far in the future when his love of the game had faded, and the age of his teammates was more than half his own.

But that wasn’t what happened.

Fate had been a cruel bitch.

Mike gripped his knee tight as he watched the team run onto the field and take up their positions while willing the pain shooting through it would stop. He struggled even harder to stop himself rising from his seat and walking out of the box, the stadium and not return…ever. And it was an urge that grew even more insistent when his gaze flickered to the man now crouched behind the plate, hating how easily he’d been replaced. Yet Mike knew the team couldn’t grind to a halt simply because he could no longer join them on the field.

And it was that unwavering ache in his chest that had seen Mike not watch a single baseball game at all in the last two years. Saw him avoid the papers, online sports media, and change the channel whenever an article about the sport he’d once love appeared on tv.

Mike shouldn’t be here.

He didn’t want to be here.

Not when he still wanted to be down there…right in the middle of it, calling every play, and making sure his team won.

Except the Switch Hitters weren’t Mike’s team anymore.

For five years it had been his job. Days spent crouched on the other side of the bullpen from the team’s pitchers and putting them through their paces while also coaching the relief catchers until they could make pitching calls that wouldn’t crater an innings. Games spent behind home plate staring at the mound where he stood, eagerly anticipating the heavy thwack of each pitch as it landed in his mitt.

His fingers tightened their death grip on his knees as frustration, anger, and regret slammed into Mike making it hard for him to breathe. It had been a mistake coming here… unable to tear his gaze away from the path of the ball as it flew from the pitchers hand to the catcher’s mitt. He wished that it was him down there, already cataloguing the mistakes the new pitcher was making, but his aching knee reminded Mike he wasn’t, and would never be again. But that didn’t stop his hand tingling as the memories of catching those pitches…

Fuck… he shouldn’t be here.

He shouldn’t have let his best friend talk him into coming.

Because Mike couldn’t do this. Couldn’t torture himself with the past… and a future that would never be his.

Panic rose in his veins. The world closed in around him. His vision blurred at the edges until all Mike could see was the pitcher standing in the centre of the diamond, ball clutched in his gloved hand while he directed the positions of the rest of the field. Ragged gasps of breath that added to the squeezing ache of his chest as Mikes heart thudded out a familiar erratic beat…

He needed to leave. Now.

There was a reason why he’d avoided baseball since he’d walked—been forced to walk away after his promising career had been torn away from him. His best friend should’ve understood that…and yet here Mike was staring out over the baseball field at his insistence.

Rising to his feet, Mike headed for the door, desperate to get away from the memories of his past and the painful glimpses of the future that no longer belonged to him. Every second here was another reminder why he’d run in the first place. And he’d almost made out of their row when a strong hand grabbed him, one that refused to be shaken off or let Mike leave.

“You’re not disappearing again, Mike,” Hunter growled, his hand not relinquishing his tight grip on Mike’s arm even after he’d sat back down. “Jordan—you remember him? You know the man you swore to love through sickness and health—he wants you here…he’s always wanted you here. You can’t keep fucking running away.”

“I don’t care what Jordan wants,” Mike hissed. “I don’t want to be here…and your brother is frankly no longer any of my concern.” He folded his arms over his chest, clenched fists hidden from Hunter’s sight as his fingernails dug into the skin of his palms. “And you’re wrong. Jordan doesn’t want me here. I’m no longer of any use to him,” he spat bitterly.

He caught his bottom lip between his teeth, trapping the rest of his anger behind it. Mike knew it was pointless to attempt to walk out of the box again, his best mate was as stubborn as he could be. Hunter wouldn’t hesitate to go after him, no matter if it made a scene and caught the eyes of any media lingering around the back hallways of the stadium. Their attention was one thing Mike wanted to avoid even more than the baseball field in front of him…all those annoying questions about his recovery and what he intended to do with his life now that he could no longer play baseball.

But he was grateful that they were seated in one of the stadiums corporate box instead of out among the fans. Mike did miss the atmosphere of game day, the smell of hot dogs and popcorn lingering in the air, and the sound of excited fans as the chanted Jordan’s name. Mike huffed. They’d once chanted his name too alongside Jordan’s…the media treating them like baseball royalty while their fans had claimed them to be ‘relationship goals’. He wondered if anyone sitting in the stands remembered him at all…and whether they still wished for a romance like his and Jordan’s.

Mike waited for another wave of panic to assail him along with the bittersweet memories and was pleasantly surprised when a sense of calm settled over him instead.

“You shouldn’t have left without talking to him.”

“What would it have achieved? I was-am broken. Useless. I’d have done nothing but hold him back. Everyone knows that!”

Hunter breathed out slowly, anger burning in his eyes. “Tabloids talk shit. They’ve always talked shit… you know this, Mike. But fuck”—scrubbing at his jaw— “Jordan is your husband! He didn’t deserve any of the shit you put him through.” Hunter heaved a sigh and flexed his fingers. “I don’t understand why he still insists on being married to you… because you might be my best friend, Mike, but it’s my brother’s heart you broke.”

Mike winced, a flicker of guilt passing through his eyes before he shuttered it away. It was the first time since Hunter had found him, hauled his arse out of the mess he’d successfully made of his life over the past two years, that Hunter had the uttered words ‘Jordan’ and ‘husband’ in the same sentence. Hell, when his best mate had arrived on his doorstep, Mike had expected the man to throw a punch right before handing over the signed divorce papers. And while Jordan might not have signed the paper that would end their marriage once and for all, yet, Mike knew it was only a matter of time.

“You need to stop wallowing in your own self-pity and realise that there are people who still care about you…people who want to help you… and if that doesn’t involve baseball anymore, then so be it.” Hunter shrugged. “But you need to get it through your thick damn head that we see you as more than Mike Killigan, Switch Hitters’ starting catcher… and maybe it’s time that you see yourself that way too.” His friend drew in a sharp breath and released it slowly. “You need to talk to him.”

“No. I can’t,” Mike uttered, his voice shaking while his fingernails had begun to draw blood.

He stared at the pitcher’s mound and watched as Jordan warmed up…wanted to yell at his husband to focus on the catcher in front of him and glance up to the private boxes between each pitch. Distractions cost games…and Mike was a distraction, even if Jordan couldn’t see beyond the mirrored glass of the private box.

“I made my decision back then… burnt bridges…and there is no rebuilding them, Hunter.” He rubbed at his chest, heart pounding not with panic but regret, aching with the loss of the man—the life he’d walked away from. “If Jordan won’t sign the divorce papers and end our marriage…amicably, then maybe I should file for it in the courts. I don’t want to turn it into a public debacle, but neither do I want to remain his burden.”

Mike knew it was the right decision, divorcing Jordan. Had been two years ago when he’d left the papers on the kitchen bench right before he walked out of their house. And it still was now.

But he couldn’t deny that the idea of it…the finality of it all still fucking hurt.

***

New to Greertown City?

Checkout the other stories set in this universe.

Crime Lords series starting with Kings

Golden Decks Casino series starting with Flex