Until September by Chris Scully - Cat's Audiobook Review #mmromance #audible @RiptideBooks @pauleynyc ~ '

Until September

Written by: Chris Scully
Narrated by: Michael Pauley
Length: 7 hrs and 51 mins
Unabridged Audiobook

Release Date:06-13-16

As a teenager, Archie Noblesse clawed his way out of the poverty, heartache, and abuse of the reservation and left his family behind. Desperate to shake the shadow of his past, he reinvents himself as Archer Noble, an outspoken blogger and controversial author who lives only for himself. But when his beloved sister dies, Archer is saddled with guardianship of his niece and nephew.

Elementary school teacher Ryan Eriksson is devastated when his best friend Marguerite is killed, leaving her two young children orphaned. Helping Archer with his new responsibilities eases his grief, but when Archer offers him custody of the children, Ryan's left with an impossible choice: get the family he's always wanted, or respect Margie's wishes and convince Archer to give parenting - and his heritage - a chance.

To buy time, Ryan promises to stay for the summer, hoping that Archer will change his mind and fall for the kids. But Archer's reluctant, and the growing attraction between him and Ryan complicates matters. Legal decisions must be made, and soon, before Ryan returns to school. But with hearts involved, more than just the children's future is on the line.

Buy links: Riptide | Amazon Audio | Audible | iTunes

"Charming way to spend a day. Gotta love the kiddos"

Overall

Performance

Story

Cat gives this one 5 Meows with a 5 Purr heat index...

When Archer leaves home, he never thought he would be back, especially like this. He is a tough as nails blogger that is against gays getting married and monogamy. mainly because of his upbringing. Ryan is his polar opposite a stereotypical gay man that wants the marriage, picket fence and kids. He was recently broken up with a few months before his wedding date. One of his best friends and Archer's sister is tragically killed upending both men's lives.

Though the story is set on a tragedy it is a lovely story of opposites attract, a slow building friendship that turns to lovers and an allover sweet romance. Michael Pauley did a great job narrating with so many characters and especially tow kids. He pulled me into the story and kept me there till the end.

I highly recommend giving this one a listen!

Excerpt from Until September...

Chapter One

Twenty Years Ago

I hope you rot in hell, you sick motherfuck.

Sixteen-year-old Archie Noblesse took a long, defiant drag on his cigarette. He was hidden by the dumpster behind the community center but getting caught was the last thing on his mind at the moment. No one cared what he got up to. His grandfather would have smacked him upside the head—it had never taken much to get his moosum going—but he’d passed on years ago, so Archie stubbornly puffed away.

A good chunk of the one thousand-strong band was inside the center for his uncle’s wake, but Archie hadn’t been able to pretend for another minute. He shuddered at the thought of enduring it all again tomorrow for the funeral. If only they knew you like I did, you fucking pervert. Maybe they had. The reservation was full of buried secrets; you only had to scratch the surface. But no one ever did. No one wanted to.

He felt ready to shatter at any minute. The anger he usually kept in check was churning in his gut like molten lava in a volcano’s crater. It was pushing at his chest, ready to spew from his lips. The thought of his uncle’s saggy gut and sour breath made him shudder; the limp dick that, thank God, he couldn’t get up half the time. Although that had never stopped him from trying. Or making Archie try.

A door opened. The gentle Cree hymns, all too familiar on the reservation, poured out.

“I thought you’d be here,” said his sister Marguerite as she peered around the edge of the dumpster. Technically, she was his half sister, although he never thought of her that way. They had different fathers, both anonymous strangers, but Margie had gotten lucky—given her much lighter-colored skin and narrow face, hers had obviously been white.

As a child, Archie used to dream that his father had been a white businessman from the east who had come through Winnipeg, but he was a whole lot wiser now. Rich, white men used a better class of prostitute than their mother. And the mirror didn’t lie; Archie hated his almond-shaped eyes and round face for marking him pure Cree as much as his tanned skin. His father was probably some drunk from the reservation. Sonia had never told him who it was, and as he had gotten older, he’d figured that she probably didn’t even know.

Sometimes Archie was jealous of Margie for her light skin. He didn’t want dumb Indian blood. But he kept his secret to himself. It wasn’t her fault, and most of the time he loved her, loved her like he’d never loved anyone else on this earth.

Margie plucked the cigarette from his fingers and crushed it beneath her scuffed shoe. “Smoking’s bad for you.”

“So’s this place.” It was his favorite saying.

“Kookum says you should be inside.”

“Gran can kiss my ass. I’m not spending another minute with that fucker.”

Margie leaned her slight weight against his side, and Archie wrapped his arm around her narrow shoulders, noticing how the fabric of her secondhand dress pulled tight. At thirteen years old, she kept outgrowing her thrift-store clothes.

He would do it all again, make the same sacrifices, if it meant Margie was safe. He’d been her protector since birth, keeping her quiet while Sonia entertained in the next room, or on the nights she never came back to the apartment at all. He’d shoplifted formula from the store when there wasn’t enough money for food, so Margie wouldn’t go hungry. When Sonia made the mistake of leaving them alone in their rented-by-the-month motel room for three days, and the CFS finally caught up with them again, he’d thought it would be different than all the other times; this time they were being sent to live with family and now they’d be safe. But on the isolated northern Manitoba reservation Archie had found himself in a different kind of hell. Sure they had food on the table, and a roof over their heads, but there were new dangers.

While Margie had adjusted to life on the reservation quickly, making new friends as she always did, it had been more difficult for Archie.

Grandma Betty, Kookum as she insisted on being called, had her own problems, like an abusive alcoholic husband and a drug-addicted son with a fondness for little kids. She couldn’t protect herself, let alone Archie and Marguerite. Uncle Russ had been the only person to take an interest in him. At first, he’d been fun—when he wasn’t high that is. He’d show up every few weeks, hang around for a couple of days—long enough to score some drugs, or when he couldn’t afford that, a bag of paint thinner or glue to sniff—and then disappear again. He treated Archie like a grown-up: taught him how to shoot a pellet gun and smoke a cigarette. But then one night he drove Archie out to the middle of nowhere, and what little hope and faith Archie had left in the world had died.

Afterward, when his uncle had zipped up his pants and boasted that no one would believe Archie if he told, Archie had known, with a sinking heart, it was true. The local RCMP detachment was half an hour’s drive, and folks around here would never help him. He was an outsider. And what if they sent him away? Split him and Margie up? So he’d stayed quiet, and after a while it hadn’t been so bad. At least it had kept Margie safe.

Archie was tainted goods—he accepted that now. But Margie still had a chance.

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