Please welcome the lovely Amy Lane to the blog today!
A Man Who Can Fix Things
By Amy Lane
Z.A. Maxfield used to say writers were like magpies. We pulled little bits of this and that from our lives, wove it together into a whole different shape, and that’s the nest we built in fiction. I love that analogy, but sometimes I am really surprised at what threads I drag from my real life to my imaginary life, and what kind of house I make from my hopes and dreams.
See, my bathroom has been falling apart for years.
The floor is… uh… well, once there was a floor under the tile.
I’m taking my life into my hands every time I pee.
It has been the unspoken addition to all of the plans my husband and I make for his work sabbaticals: We’re going on vacation and I’m going to a book conference and we’re going to see movies (AND WE’RE GOING TO FIX THE BATHROOM!)
And yet it has not happened, because neither of us are mechanically inclined and both of us are the type of people to go, “Oh, hey, isn’t in the stars, let’s fuck off and do something else.”
But it’s obviously haunting my dreams.
Because when I dreamed of Bobby Green, the big farm boy with the ten-inch cock, I’d left a couple of clues for myself in the previous books. He had to have a girlfriend to start with. He and Reg didn’t hold hands in public, even in front of the other Johnnies guys, even when they were crazy about each other. He was the kind of guy who knew who you could get to replace windows, because everybody has that friend, right?
Mate and I don’t have that friend.
We want that friend.
Bobby is that friend. He starts out his courtship with Reg by visiting his house and fixing it up. He starts with the bathroom, moves on to the kitchen, the baseboards, painting, fixing the blinds—hell, by the end of the story he’s finding someone who can make cabinets so Bobby can install them and rebuilding Reg’s porch.
And for Reg, he’s beyond perfect—because hey, he helps Reg take care of his sister, and woo-hoo, there’s sex to boot!
So I started out crafting a confused kid, but in the end I apparently crafted a dream guy for myself. It wasn’t his youth or his beauty that made him a dream, and my own Mate has kindness to spare. I’ll be honest– it certainly wasn’t his, uh, memorable member either.
It was the fact that here, finally, was a guy who would fix my house.
I hope Bobby is your dream guy too.
Vern Roberts couldn’t wait to turn eighteen and get the hell out of Dogpatch, California. But city living is expensive, and he’s damned desperate when Dex from Johnnies spots him bussing tables.
As “Bobby,” he’s a natural at gay porn. Soon he’s surrounded by hot guys and sex for the taking, but it’s not just his girlfriend back in Dogpatch—or her blackmailing brother—that keeps him from taking it. It’s the sweet guy who held the lights for his first solo scene, who showed him decency, kindness, and a smile.
Reg Williams likes to think he’s too stupid to realize what a shitty hand life dealt him, but Bobby knows better. What Reg lacks in family, opportunity, education, and money, he makes up for in heart. One fumbling step at a time, they connect, not just in their hearts but in their bodies, where sex that’s not on camera, casual, or meaningless, becomes the most important thing in the world.
But Reg is hampered by an inescapable family burden, and he and Bobby will never fly unless he can find a way to manage it. Can he break the painful link to his unrealized childhood and grow into the love Bobby wants to give.
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About Amy Lane
Amy Lane is a mother of two grown kids, two half-grown kids, two small dogs, and half-a-clowder of cats. A compulsive knitter who writes because she can’t silence the voices in her head, she adores fur-babies, knitting socks, and hawt menz, and she dislikes moths, cat boxes, and knuckleheaded macspazzmatrons. She is rarely found cooking, cleaning, or doing domestic chores, but she has been known to knit up an emergency hat/blanket/pair of socks for any occasion whatsoever or sometimes for no reason at all. Her award-winning writing has three flavors: twisty-purple alternative universe, angsty-orange contemporary, and sunshine-yellow happy. By necessity, she has learned to type like the wind. She’s been married for twenty-five-plus years to her beloved Mate and still believes in Twu Wuv, with a capital Twu and a capital Wuv, and she doesn’t see any reason at all for that to change.
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