All For You by Andrew Grey | Cat's Release day Review, Excerpt & #giveaway @Dreamspinners @andrewgreybooks ~ '

The only path to happiness is freedom: the freedom to live—and love—as the heart wants. Claiming that freedom will take all the courage one young man has… but he won’t have to face it alone.

In small, conservative Sierra Pines, California, Reverend Gabriel is the law. His son, Willy, follows his dictates… until he meets a man in Sacramento, and then reunites with him in his hometown—right under his father’s nose.

Reggie is Sierra Pines’s newly appointed sheriff. His dedication to the job means not flaunting his sexuality, but when he sees Willy again, he can’t escape the feeling that they’re meant to be together. He’ll keep Willy’s secret until Willy is ready to let the world see who he really is. But if going up against the church and the townspeople isn’t enough, the perils of the work Reggie loves so much might mean the end of their romance before it even gets off the ground….

Buy links: Dreamspinner | Amazon

Cat gives this one 5 Meows with a 3 Purr heat index...

Reggie is the new Sherriff in Sierra Pines. He meets a young man out of town and runs interference for him in a bar but is surprised to see him in his office with his father Reverend Gabriel, who seems to run the town.

Reggie was appointed to the sheriff's office to clean up after a dirty sheriff and he has his work cut out. Some things don't add up with one of the deputies but he can't fire him without proof.

Willie shows up and they slowly become friends, though Willie wants more. Reggie says they need to take things slowly. Soon things start to spiral out of control.

I loved this story. I loved all the characters especially Willie. The story has a realistic small-town feel. You can feel the tension. There is a slow burn between Reggie and Willie but it's oh so sexy.

if you like small-town drama, Sherriff's, coming out, twists and an allover good romance this is for you. I hope this is the start of a series!

Excerpt...

“HOW’S THE new job?” Casey asked as Reggie Barnett, the newly appointed sheriff of Sierra Pines, California, approached his friends at Barney’s.

Reggie rolled his eyes and lowered himself into the only available seat in the place with a sigh of relief. “Can’t I at least get a beer before you start the Spanish Inquisition?” he asked, wiping his eyes to get the dust out, trying to take a second to let some of the huge list of issues with the department fall away for just a few hours.

“No one expects the Spanish Inquisition!” his friends parroted back in full Monty Python style.

Reggie chuckled, releasing some of the tension. He should have known seeing the guys would be good for him. They had gone to college together. Casey was now a lawyer and building a solid reputation. Vick was a hospital pharmacist. And Bobby, the smartest of them, who had graduated top of the class at Davis, was now at Berkeley finishing a master’s and planning on a PhD in mathematics. Numbers simply sang to him. All four of them had roomed together junior and senior years. Reggie smiled, remembering the action that small two-bedroom apartment had seen during that time.

Bobby placed a beer in front of him, and Reggie took a long drink, then sighed.

“That bad?” Casey commented over the din of dozens of overlapping conversations and pickups in progress, as well as music that tried to give the place atmosphere—and failed. This was a bar, not a dance club, thank you very much. Eventually someone seemed to get a clue and turned off the music.

“Worse,” Reggie answered. “So much worse.”

“That’s why you were appointed,” Bobby—a beanpole-tall man with geeky glasses and a smile that would stop traffic—said, gently patting him on the back. “You’re the best, and that’s where they needed you.”

They all teased each other, but there was no hint of that in Bobby’s eyes.

“What’s so bad?” Casey asked, playing with his vodka and soda, twirling the glass in his fingers. He always had more energy than any of them, and it seemed to leak out in small movements all the time.

Reggie took another drink. “For starters, I have three deputies.” He held up his fingers, ticking them off as he went. “One is a drunk. I haven’t caught him drunk on duty, but that’s just a matter of time. I have seen him staggering home after he spent all evening at a bar. The second is so new, he asks a million questions all day long. At least he might be savable. My predecessor didn’t train him for anything other than to give out speeding tickets. And the third….” Reggie rolled his eyes dramatically. “He thinks he’s God’s gift to the department and doesn’t see why he wasn’t given the job of sheriff. I have a feeling he’s as dirty as a pile of dog shit. No proof, just a feeling.” He drained the beer, and Bobby got him another one.

“I take it you aren’t driving?” Vick said over his glass of Diet Coke. He was the quietest of all of the gang and never drank. He hated the taste of alcohol, said it tasted like battery acid to him. The group paid for his drinks, and he made sure they all got home safely at the end of the evening.

“Nope. The car is in the lot and I can pick it up later. I don’t need to be back until eight on Monday, so I can drive back tomorrow afternoon.” Reggie took another drink. Life was good for a few hours at least.

“Awesome.” Bobby swung his arm around Reggie’s neck. “I’m crashing with Casey.”

“You’re at my place,” Vick offered with a smile. “I even have a proper guest bed now so you don’t have to crash on the sofa.”

“My back and ass thank you,” Reggie tossed back. “Sometimes I think I’m getting old.”

The others groaned in unison. “Please,” Bobby said in his queeniest accent. “None of us is over thirty yet, so we aren’t getting old. Personally I want to enjoy my last years of twinkdom.”

Reggie snorted loudly. “You are not and have never been a twink.” He turned toward the door as a man in his very early twenties came in. “Now, that’s a twink,” he said, motioning as the guy took a few more steps, looking at everything, back practically plastered to the wall as though he were afraid someone was going to come up behind him and take his virginity any second.

“No, that’s a scared little rabbit,” Casey said with a grin. “Remember the first time we came to a gay bar? I think we all looked like that, only it was the four of us, so we huddled together, whispering, looking for all the world like fresh meat for the wolves. Course, we had each other, and tongues as sharp as whips.”

“Still have that,” Vick interjected, making a whipping motion with his hand and nearly falling off his chair. He didn’t need to drink to be a klutz.

Bobby picked up Vick’s glass and smelled it, wrinkling his nose. Then he tasted it and set the glass back down. “Just soda.” They laughed at Vick as Reggie looked back to where the kid stood near the wall, eyes as big as saucers.

God, he remembered how that felt. The freedom of taking those first steps out into a world that might let you be who you were, but scared someone was going to see you—or worse, no one was going to say anything. Then, after a little while, the jitters gave way to more basic instincts as you hoped against hope that someone cute would stop and talk to you, because the real reason you screwed up your courage and came was to get laid.

“What’s the plan to turn around the department?” Casey asked, and Reggie grunted, watching the kid. He had sandy blond hair, and even from across the room, Reggie could tell his eyes were blue, like Lake Tahoe on a sunny day. He was, in a word, magnificent, with an air of innocence around him that made him even more appealing.

“I don’t think Reggie came here to talk about work,” Bobby said. “Give him a chance to unwind, relax, and eye-fuck the hell out of the guy over there.”

“I was not,” Reggie growled as he turned back to the group.

“He is really super cute,” Casey said, making to get up from his chair.

“Leave him alone. He doesn’t need any of your bad lines and lawyerly smarminess sliming all over him.” Reggie sent “back off” vibes to everyone at the table, and they all suddenly found their drinks very interesting. Not that he was going to do anything. That guy was too young, and Reggie wasn’t looking to spend half the night taking a guy to school.

Reggie had a strict zero-tolerance, don’t-shit-where-you-eat rule, so he never dated anyone in towns where he worked. No dating, no fucking, no drama, no intrigue. He’d always worked in smaller towns and had gone to either Sacramento or San Francisco when he needed some company and wanted to fuck a hot guy through the mattress. He didn’t get many chances and probably wasn’t going to in the future, so he wanted to make the most of the evening.

Reggie turned back to the blond, who had moved farther into the club and was sitting at one of the small drink tables. He was adorable. His chair was pressed to the wall, and he had the table positioned in front of him like a shield.

Oh, to be that young and innocent again.

“Stop looking. I don’t think chicken is on your menu tonight,” Casey teased.

Andrew Grey is the author of nearly 100 works of Contemporary Gay Romantic fiction. After twenty-seven years in corporate America, he has now settled down in Central Pennsylvania with his husband, Dominic, and his laptop. An interesting ménage. Andrew grew up in western Michigan with a father who loved to tell stories and a mother who loved to read them. Since then he has lived throughout the country and traveled throughout the world. He is a recipient of the RWA Centennial Award, has a master’s degree from the University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee, and now writes full-time. Andrew’s hobbies include collecting antiques, gardening, and leaving his dirty dishes anywhere but in the sink (particularly when writing). He considers himself blessed with an accepting family, fantastic friends, and the world’s most supportive and loving partner. Andrew currently lives in beautiful, historic Carlisle, Pennsylvania.