Chapter 44 of The Voice In The Forest


Hi everybody! 

I am meeellllttttting! It’s so hot I am becoming a bad rendition of the Wicked Witch of the West but that b*tch had water…



But, how are all of you? Are you melting too? How is your summer going?

Well, I have been ridiculously busy and trying not to sweat into a puddle of goo as I push to get as much done as possible.

For example, my little cousin’s wedding rehearsal is today. Yes. I should be getting ready for that, especially because I am performing the ceremony and I need to put the final touches on it.

No time like the ten minutes before time.

all the books!

I am still behind, but I’m working on it.

At the end of the month Cultivating Marigold will be coming out. And right now, there is an activist for abortion rights, a teenager, who is slaying all the records for fundraising for the cause.

So, I thought I would help her out. This teenager was targeted for harassment by a congressman who said ugly things about her looks. In response, because the youth have this internet game on lock, she has raised close to $500k in under 48hrs that will all go to abortion funds.

If you feel so inclined, her link is here.

But, next month is also Brewed Anew month!

Brewed anew

I’m excited for this book.

This is the third in the Comfort Food Romance series and this is Marcus and Shane’s story.

Remember, these books are Hallmarkian LGBTQIA books. And, I will have more to share about this book coming out soon.

For now, I will warn all the readers of this news letter that this next chapter of The Voice In The Forest has some light steam although it’s not the full schmexy times.

The voice in the forest

He kissed me with his whole being.

Maybe it was because he was a ghost, maybe it was the decades of being alone, maybe it was because he was permanently frozen as a young man who was unable to live a full life when he had his body because of the confines of his name.

But never in my life had anyone kissed me as if I was the whole world.

I sank down to the bed, not sure if he lowered me to it, or if I dragged him down with me. His mouth didn’t leave mine, his tongue caressing mine and his teeth nipping at my bottom lip.

With one hand, he cupped my cheek, while the other tugged on my hip, pressing me against his body even with the blanket between us.

My hands roamed over his back, marveling at the strength of the muscles I found there and the solid weight of him as he moved.

Pulling back from me, breaking the kiss, he stared into my eyes, his breath tickling against the wet on my lips.

“You are so beautiful,” he whispered, his voice sending a shiver running through my body and set my nerves on fire.

“How is this real? How are you real?” I asked, “Please tell me this is real.”

Leaning to the side, he kissed my cheek and whispered in my ear, “Real.”

Then he moved and kissed my other cheek saying, “Is this real?”

Finally, he touched his forehead to mine and let out a sigh.

“Ara, you are the realest thing I’ve ever known. And I don’t care if some people think I don’t exist. You know I do. That’s enough for me.”

Before he done speaking, tears built up in the back of my eyes. But these weren’t the same as the many I shed for my mother or for all the myriad things I cried about prior to meeting him.

No, for once, I wanted to cry happy tears.

I clung to him, balling the back of his shirt up in my hands.

“Montgomery, I know I shouldn’t, I know I’m supposed to help you to…”

He crashed his mouth into mine, silencing me and all the turmoil in my mind.We shouldn’t do this. I knew that.

The way he moved against me as his mouth trailed kisses from my mouth to my jaw and onto my neck shouldn’t elicit a gasp from me that made him groan in response.None of this should be happening.

I was supposed to help him move on, to leave me, and go about the process of dying the way he was always supposed to.

“Stay,” I moaned as his mouth found the hollow above my collar bone and his hand trailed a feather light touch along my side, brushing the edge of my breast.

He made a plaintive moan sound against my skin that broke my heart because we both knew there was no way for him to promise me that even if he wanted to.

“As long as I can,” he mumbled, tugging my shirt aside, allowing his mouth access to more of my shoulder. His words became a tattoo on every part of my body he touched, a tattoo as invisible as he was to the rest of the world.

But I saw him, I felt him, and he wanted to stay as long as he could to be with me, to be like this.

Maybe that would be enough. Maybe I could take that with me after he was as gone from me as he was from everyone else.

I tugged his face back up to mine, claiming his mouth with a kiss that held every frantic thought running through me and every desperate piece of my heart that screamed to keep him with me as long as I could.

“Ara,” he said into my mouth, his hand running down under the blanket to where my sleep shirt rode up and his fingers met the naked skin of my thigh.

Sucking in a breath at the contact, I tugged on his shirt, wanting to feel his skin as he felt mine.

He groaned into my mouth and it sent heat coursing through my body again as he tightened his grip on my thigh and I moaned against his lips in response.

“If you had been with me,” he said, trailing kisses along my neck and run-in his hand along the skin of my thigh.

Been with him… he meant when he was alive. If I had been alive then along with him. He didn’t need to say it, and I was glad he didn’t. The thought of the distance of our lives made the ache behind my love for him so much worse.

Pulling away from me, his mouth left my skin, and his hand left my leg.

Even in the dark, with just the ambient light from the woods helping me to see, it was clear in his eyes that he felt it too. This was more than some tragic need for someone we couldn’t keep. This was more than two lonely people grasping onto another.

He loved me too.

“I would have to wait till we were married to hold you like this,” he said, smiling and his eyes shining even as a tear fell down his cheek.

“You would have married me.” It was a statement, not a question. And his nod was the simple truth. “And I would have loved you. Desperately.”

Touching his cheek, wiping away his tears with my thumb, he took in a shuddering breathe and leaned down to kiss me again.

But this kiss didn’t hold the same heat, this kiss didn’t hold the same promise of touches and more. Instead, this kiss felt as if it was the sealing of the vows we would never get to make.

Pulling away from his lips, I tugged the blanket back over myself and leaned my forehead against his again, staring into his eyes.

“I do love you,” I said.

He crumpled into my arms, holding me tight as tears streamed down his face.

“I love you,” he said, and I could hear the unspoken wish because my soul wanted it too.

We both wished it was enough to give us a chance for this to be as real as we wanted it to be, and as real as our feelings were.

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