About No Man's Land
by Zoe Nichols
136 pages / 33400 words
ISBN: 978-1-61040-103-6
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html, lit, Adobe and Sony optimized pdf, prc, epub
It's been two months since Asher’s boyfriend, Derek, lost his bar to a
fire and Derek only seems to be slipping further away into a private hell.
Lost and watching his boyfriend fade away, Asher fights helplessness while
Dean tries to keep them all from falling apart.
The threesome has been sliding south since Derek slipped a promise ring on
Asher's finger, drawing a line in the sand no one can miss. Tension erupts,
and Asher and Derek are left to fit the pieces back together, scared that
they no longer fit without Dean. Guilt-ridden, Asher and Derek fight like
hell, pushing each other to the breaking point. Can they find a way to keep
love from sliding into something like hate?
Review
Mychael Black, Author of Arcanum: Vervain, writes: After the devastating
fire at Derek's bar, Asher, Derek, and Dean find themselves hanging on
by a thread. Their lives--and love--start crashing down around them, and
fighting becomes more plentiful (and even more appealing) than the
silence. It takes some drastic steps on everyone's part to finally knock
some sense into their heads.
Reading No Man's Land was like visiting as old friend. I've adored Ash
from the very first story I ever read of him. This one kept me glued to
the computer more than the others.
Ash (and Derek) really evolve, and Dean is still the single solid
foundation he always has been. The story was so strong, I found myself
wiping away tears many, many times. It's not often a book can do that to
me, but this one sure did. It is, by far, the best Zoe Nichols has
written.
Sample
Traffic dumped us at home close to noon, so we lugged
the groceries up and I figured on soup and sandwiches for lunch. Derek
wasn't on the couch like he had been when we'd left and for a moment, my
heart stopped even as I noted the report still on the coffee table. Then the
sound of the shower came through and I let out a little sigh of relief
before helping Dean put the groceries away.
I was taking off my coat when Derek padded out of the bedroom, wearing
sweats and a long-sleeved shirt I'd bought him a couple months back. Without
really thinking, I stopped to watch him. He'd lost weight in the last month
as grief and some strange kind of survivor's guilt kept him from eating. His
muscle was still there, but he was slowly losing definition. What once was
ribbed and taut, was just flat and smooth now. The sweats were baggy and the
shirt was a little looser. His dark eyes were tired, his hair all rumpled
blond spikes and beneath his tan, he was as close to ghostly pale as he
could get.
Still my heart lightened at the sight of him. "Hey, you," I said quietly,
pushing the coat off the rest of the way and tossing it on the couch before
moving to him. The hug was a little tight, carrying the desperation that all
his gestures did now since I'd gotten out of the hospital, but I savored it,
letting him pull me in tight. It was the most emotion I'd gotten from him
lately. Somehow, I couldn't pinpoint when, we'd begun to tiptoe around each
other. No, I'd begun to tiptoe around Derek, who seemed to pull away, day
after day until my boyfriend was just a shadow of the man he'd once been.
The only time he seemed to be really with us anymore was in the little
moments of touching, where I sometimes got a glimpse of what was going on
behind those dark, wounded eyes.
When he leaned away, his fingers brushed my cheek. "The report said we'd get
a check in a few weeks. I think I'm going to start looking for a job again
after it arrives." We'd been pretty good with the saving while Derek had had
the bar so I didn't blink at him taking more time before going back.
But weirdly enough, my stomach clenched into a tight, vicious ball.
"Okay, that sounds good." I smiled to hide my reaction, slipped away and
found myself blinking at the sight of Dean setting a pot on the stove. The
makings for sandwiches cluttered the counter. "How'd you know I was gonna
make that?"
Dean looked up, his gaze casual. Calm. "It's quick and easy. Wasn't much of
a guess." His eyes slipped over us, lingering on Derek, much the way mine no
doubt hung on my boyfriend nowadays.
"Hey," Dean murmured. "How ya doing?"
There was a rustle of sound, indicating Derek had shrugged behind me. "Been
better. I'm not that hungry by the way." His voice was so dull, tired. We
all sounded the same, I realized. Colorless.
Blank.
Dean shrugged, too. It was a strangely careful move. "It'll make Ash happy
if you eat. He's worried about you. We both are."
I blinked at being brought into it. But it would make me happy, so I didn't
protest. I turned around to catch Derek frowning at me. "What?" I slipped by
him to sit on one of the three stools parked against the countertop. "It's
true."
Derek wasn't dumb, though. He followed and frowned at the side of my face
until I looked at him. Then he frowned harder because the man had been able
to read me like a book since the day I met him. "You have been worrying. Why
haven't you said anything?"
"What would have it done? And it's not like I didn't understand why." I
shrugged, turning to watch Dean pop open cans of soup and dump them into the
water before turning on the burner and starting the sandwiches. Mayonnaise,
honey-roasted ham with Swiss cheese, mustard and lettuce on wheat. My
stomach growled.
Dean glanced up, flicked me a quick smile. The noise had startled me enough
to let the smile do its work.
I smiled back even while Derek frowned harder, making my face burn from its
intensity.
"What do you mean, what would it have done? I'd have listened to you and..."
I lost the smile and turned to face him. "And done what? Nod and go on.
You've been closing me out for the last month and a half and you think I
haven't been trying?" The anger just boiled up, coming from the pit of my
belly to vomit out of my mouth in a riot of words.
Anger that I hadn't felt, hadn't expected. It burned away the remorse that
had been rolling in my belly. A month of silence came to sudden, furious
life. "You act like you're fucking dying, Derek. What do you say to someone
who's already buried themselves?"
Derek's mouth dropped open, then snapped shut. For a long moment, we just
glared at each other with only the sounds of Dean's rattling about the
kitchen to interrupt the silence.
When Derek did speak, it wasn't to me, even if his dark eyes didn't shift
from my face.
"You think that, too, Dean?"
The sound of movement never stalled. "I just want you to get better, man."
The distinct sound of plates scraping finally made us look over to see the
sandwiches sitting in front of us, neatly cut and smelling delicious. The
sandwiches were followed by steamy bowls of soup and then beer for them
both. Dean handed me some painkillers and a water bottle.
I think we both gaped at him. I sputtered first. My arm had been hurting,
but I hadn't even noticed until... now. "How the fuck do you do that?"