Prince Charming is the man next door.
Small-town business owner Jason Brewster has big dreams: world travel, adventure, and most of all, a passionate romance worthy of a fairy tale. But he doesn’t believe fantasies can come true….
Until Adam moves in next door.
He’s handsome, cultured, European, and best of all, interested in Jason. It’s like something out of the stories Jason loves.
But Adam—whose real name is Amadeo Montefalcone—has a secret. He's royalty, prince of the small country of Monterosia. Only he doesn't want to rule, and especially doesn't want the loveless marriage waiting for him at home. So he ran away in search of true love. With a man. And with Jason, he finds it.
But Adam can't run forever. The truth will come out. If Jason can forgive Adam’s deception, they might find their happily ever after.
Cover Artist: Alexandria Corza
House Line Dreamspun Desires | #66 , Series Small-Town Dreams
Genre Contemporary
Buy links: Dreamspinner | Amazon
Cat gives this one 5 Meows with a 3 Purr heat index...
Jason loves all things mythology related. He dreams of being swept up in Eagle wings like Ganymede. He runs a bookstore that is part restaurant. and writes books as well. He longs for a true romance but knows its hard to come by in his little town in Missouri.
Adam is really a prince from a small foreign country. He doesn't want to rule and marry and become king and produce an heir. He has his brother help him find a place to hide and find himself. His little house needs lots of work and is behind Jason's.
I loved this story. I loved both Jason and Adam. I loved the chemistry. Tim was such a big character but suddenly just disappeared I would have liked either more of him or something more conclusive.
There is a lot of foreign language in the book though most are explained. There is also the mythology. Normally I would complain about so many big words and stuff but it all worked in this story.
There are some twists and things I didn't see coming. The story is not predictable, it is sweet, charming and hot. Very entertaining!
Excerpt...
A BIG storm had blown through the night before. Jason Brewster had lain in his bed listening to it as it went from a distant rumbling to loud rolling booms that shook the house and the windows in their panes. But he’d loved storms since childhood, when his father had explained that if you counted the seconds between the flash of lightning and the thunder, you knew how many miles away the storm was. As an adult, Jason wasn’t sure if that was true, but the idea had delighted him as a kid.
He’d decided not to research it to see if it was true or not despite the fact that he was a research kind of guy. Why mess with a fun childhood belief? Did it matter if it was true or not?
But even better were his mother’s stories that storms were caused by ancient gods like Thor and Indra and Lei Gong and Taranis, and of course Zeus and Jupiter (who, wow, were the same god with two different names!). She said all the booming and shaking and flashing were the gods kicking up a fuss because they were angry that people didn’t worship them anymore or believe in them or even remember who they were.
“I know who they are!” cried Jason Evander Brewster, who was named after not one, but two mythological heroes. He knew it too. Because hey! He’d looked the names up in the library where his mother worked. She’d told him tales—he wanted more. Looking things up was fun!
“And that’s why you’ll never be struck by lightning,” she promised, and he would smile and go to sleep peacefully on even the stormiest of nights. Not just because he’d taken enough interest in finding out about the ancient gods—she told him they loved him for it—but also because he’d read articles on the odds of being struck by lightning, and it was pretty darned unlikely. One in 700,000 in the US in any one year. Pretty darned good odds!
“You are such a nerd,” said his twin sister, Daphne, who was also named from mythology. “Who even looks stuff like that up?”
He decided not to be upset by what she said. Maybe he was a nerd. But then he was sleeping at night, and a thunderstorm could send her running for their parents’ room.
Their mother’s name was Iris, and she was named after the goddess of the rainbow because her mother loved the old stories as well and had been the one to pass on that love to her daughter.
Some people in town swore Grandma had been a witch, and the idea that she could have been was just one more delightful “what-if?” in Jason’s life. What if she was? He didn’t know. He had almost no memories of her, as she had died when he was very little. And Mother! Why even though she went to the little United Methodist Church every single Sunday without fail, she didn’t have a single picture of Jesus, not one cross or crucifix, in the house. There were, however, little statues of Jupiter and Juno and Diana on her bureau. They were the only things in the house he and Daphne weren’t allowed to touch growing up, especially the coins and flowers and candy or cookies or even bread she left there before them. Once in a while, she even left a glass of her honey mead.
This only fueled their childhood imaginations all the more.
“What if Mother is really a dryad?” Jason might wonder aloud while alone with Daphne by the creek behind their house, or late, late at night under the covers with a flashlight.
“Or a naiad!” Daphne might suggest.
“Nah. A dryad,” Jason would argue. “She loves the woods but doesn’t like swimming so much.”
“What if that’s because she would turn back into a nymph if she got in the water?” Daphne would counter.
“Wait!”
Daphne waited.
“What if Daddy is really a satyr?” Jason asked, eyes widening at even the slightest possibility that such a thing could possibly be true.
He’d decided not to research it to see if it was true or not despite the fact that he was a research kind of guy. Why mess with a fun childhood belief? Did it matter if it was true or not?
But even better were his mother’s stories that storms were caused by ancient gods like Thor and Indra and Lei Gong and Taranis, and of course Zeus and Jupiter (who, wow, were the same god with two different names!). She said all the booming and shaking and flashing were the gods kicking up a fuss because they were angry that people didn’t worship them anymore or believe in them or even remember who they were.
“I know who they are!” cried Jason Evander Brewster, who was named after not one, but two mythological heroes. He knew it too. Because hey! He’d looked the names up in the library where his mother worked. She’d told him tales—he wanted more. Looking things up was fun!
“And that’s why you’ll never be struck by lightning,” she promised, and he would smile and go to sleep peacefully on even the stormiest of nights. Not just because he’d taken enough interest in finding out about the ancient gods—she told him they loved him for it—but also because he’d read articles on the odds of being struck by lightning, and it was pretty darned unlikely. One in 700,000 in the US in any one year. Pretty darned good odds!
“You are such a nerd,” said his twin sister, Daphne, who was also named from mythology. “Who even looks stuff like that up?”
He decided not to be upset by what she said. Maybe he was a nerd. But then he was sleeping at night, and a thunderstorm could send her running for their parents’ room.
Their mother’s name was Iris, and she was named after the goddess of the rainbow because her mother loved the old stories as well and had been the one to pass on that love to her daughter.
Some people in town swore Grandma had been a witch, and the idea that she could have been was just one more delightful “what-if?” in Jason’s life. What if she was? He didn’t know. He had almost no memories of her, as she had died when he was very little. And Mother! Why even though she went to the little United Methodist Church every single Sunday without fail, she didn’t have a single picture of Jesus, not one cross or crucifix, in the house. There were, however, little statues of Jupiter and Juno and Diana on her bureau. They were the only things in the house he and Daphne weren’t allowed to touch growing up, especially the coins and flowers and candy or cookies or even bread she left there before them. Once in a while, she even left a glass of her honey mead.
This only fueled their childhood imaginations all the more.
“What if Mother is really a dryad?” Jason might wonder aloud while alone with Daphne by the creek behind their house, or late, late at night under the covers with a flashlight.
“Or a naiad!” Daphne might suggest.
“Nah. A dryad,” Jason would argue. “She loves the woods but doesn’t like swimming so much.”
“What if that’s because she would turn back into a nymph if she got in the water?” Daphne would counter.
“Wait!”
Daphne waited.
“What if Daddy is really a satyr?” Jason asked, eyes widening at even the slightest possibility that such a thing could possibly be true.
B.G. Thomas lives in Kansas City with his husband of more than a decade and half, and that marriage has been legal since 2014! They share their home with their fabulous dogs, Sarah Jane and Oliver. He is lucky enough to have a lovely daughter as well as many extraordinary friends.
B.G. loves romance, comedies, fantasy, science fiction and even horror—as far as he is concerned, as long as the stories are character driven and entertaining, it doesn't matter the genre. Since he’s gone conventions since he was fourteen years old, he's been lucky enough to meet many of his favorite writers, many of whom inspired him to pursue his own writing dreams.
Excited about the growing male/male romance market, he decided to begin writing for the first time in years. Gay men are what he knows best, after all. He submitted his first story in years and was thrilled when it was accepted in only four days, and since then has had over thirty short stories, novellas and novels published.
“Leap, and the net will appear” is his personal philosophy and his message to all. “It is never too late,” he states. “Pursue your dreams. They will come true!”
Visit his website and blog at http://bthomaswriter.wordpress.com/. You can contact him there and he is always happy to hear from his readers.
It sounds like a fantastic read!
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