Title: Death of a Bachelor
Category and Genre: Adult, Gay Romance
Word count: 81,000
When snooty professor Cathal Kinnery meets blue-collar chef Damon Eglamore at a gay bar, they hate each other immediately. So it’s not hard to imagine Cathal’s horror when Damon marries his best friend. When Damon’s wife dies, however, things only get worse for Cathal: not only is he losing his best friend, but her final wish is that he stay with Damon and make sure the other man makes it through his mourning.
Cathal has no intention of getting truly involved in Damon’s life–after all, they can’t speak two words to each other without getting into a shouting match. After a few weeks of living alongside Damon, though, he finds that Damon’s problems run much deeper than grief. Damon doesn’t know who he is without his wife, and as Cathal helps Damon figure it out, he slowly comes to find he wants to be part of a family again. But can the two of them actually get over their own fears enough to admit that they can help each other?
It’s going to take a cross-dressing Shakespeare production, a baking competition complete with concussions and a five foot tall T-rex cake, and Damon’s own son coming out to make the two men stop yelling long enough to find out.
First 250 Words:
The man sitting at the end of the bar was older than Damon, maybe twenty-four. He had a thin, fox-like face and long, dark hair that he twirled around a finger as he wrote on a napkin. A martini sat untouched in front of him, and his eyes were lost in thought. Definitely gay, but he wasn’t… intimidating. Unlike every other man who wasn’t on the dance floor or making out with someone else.
Damon sat down next to him and gestured to the bartender for a beer. He was already a little drunk, but if he wanted to relax, he’d have to get a lot drunk. The other patron continued writing what looked like a math problem. He finished his equation, considered it, and then scribbled the whole thing out, his brow furrowed. Scowling, he drank the martini at one go. Only then did he glance in Damon’s direction. “Fuck off,” he said, biting the olive from the swizzle stick. “I’m not looking for company tonight. I came here to get drunk.”
Damon colored, but he kept the embarrassment from his voice. “Why’d you think I came here for anything different?”
“There’s plenty of room, but you sat by me.” He looked at Damon, taking him all in, and his eyes narrowed further. The scowl fit his face too well, and Damon didn’t appreciate his scrutiny. “And guys like you don’t come here for the conversation.”