About Civil Liberties
Written by JJ Massa
69 pages / 24000 words
ISBN: 978-1-60370-338-3, 1-60370-338-1
Available file types - html, lit, pdf, prc
When cop Christian Parker meets D.A. Denny at a bar and takes him home, they have one steamy night of passion. That might be the end of it, but a deposition brings Christian back into Denny's life. Denny tries to deny his feelings for Christian, preferring to be a player, but when a family tragedy brings Christian down, Denny is there to comfort him.
Everything that can go wrong for these two does go astray, and Christian is ready to give up. When another tragedy threatens to tear them apart forever, though, it might just be Denny who has to convince Christian that he's ready to settle down. Can they struggle through everything life throws at them and find a way to stay together?
Review
Mychael Black, popular Torquere author, writes: Christian Parker hides in an out-of-the-way gay bar, hoping for a chance to at least catch a glimpse of the man he’s been lusting after. When the man comes in and finally introduces himself as Denny, the two leave together for an unforgettable night --for them both.
For Christian, Denny is the right man, the one he’s been waiting for. To Denny, however, what’s between them is strictly sex -- nothing more. If Christian didn’t already love Denny, it’d be easier to just walk away.
So what happens when they cross paths on the job, where both must hide who they are?
Civil Liberties is an awesome story of two men stuck on paths that prevent them from being who they really are. JJ Massa has a great gift for writing characters you can’t help but feel for, and she doesn’t let the story get bogged down -- it’s always engrossing.
If you like JJ Massa’s work, you’ll love Civil Liberties.
Sample
Christian Parker looked around the room carefully from his perch on the comfortable barstool. It was dark and quiet. There were no women to be seen and that was just how it should be. This was a gay bar, a men-only gay bar.
He made his way through the collected groups of men to a quiet end of the long bar, looking for a pair of piercing, black eyes. This was his forth trip to the quiet bar in three months. Twice before, he’d gotten lucky, he’d seen him, even talked to him--the owner of those eyes. The first time he’d come here, he’d been nervous, uneasy.
A gay bar was a risky place for a cop to hang out. Especially a cop who was relatively new in town. His precinct was in a different borough, and anyway, he left his gun and his shield at home when he came here, regulation or not.
Another night, he’d sat next to the other man not really sure of what he should do. Knowing you were gay and doing something about it--well that was an entirely different thing, wasn’t it?
In his younger years, he had engaged in a few teenaged circle-jerks. Even swapped hand jobs with other military brats at camp. It had never gone any farther than that, though. He’d wanted to do
more, really wanted to. The right man hadn’t come along yet.
Christian had tried to live the American dream. He’d been a star running back in college, had come away with a bachelor’s degree in criminology. He’d dated, had sex with women.
Yeah, he’d tried. His parents always asked if he was seeing a nice girl. His new partner at work teased him incessantly about all the women who flirted with him. He had curly, chestnut hair, eyes the blue of a perfect summer sky; he was the very image of a wholesome young man.
The problem was that wholesome young men were supposed to like wholesome young women, not each other. And Christian was attracted to the forty-something gay guy with the sparkling, black eyes, hawk nose and dry, deep baritone. The guy must be gay, right? Christian’d seen him here in the bar…and he was here tonight, right there he was.
Christian bit his lip and dropped his gaze, feeling even more uncertain. He was as tough as any cop in New York City. Tougher than some, considering that he’d grown up on military base after military base.
Criminals he could handle. Making contact with a guy that he liked, wanted to like, well that was different, wasn’t it?
“This seat taken?” The gravelly whiskey voice sounded very close to his ear.