About Favorite Son: The Queen of Wands
Written by Jenna Jones
52 pages / 17000 words
ISBN: 978-1-60370-778-7, 1-60370-778-6
Available file types - html,
lit, pdf, prc, epub, Sony-optimzed pdf
All of his life, J.T. has worked to keep his extended,
politically-active family safe from scandal. Since his involvement in
the accidental death of Eric Tate, the family's last golden boy, J.T.
has dealt with his guilt by becoming the family's "cleaner," tying up
inconvenient loose ends under the guidance of the family patriarch.
But when Eric's son, Charlie, returns to their hometown for the first
time in twenty years, J.T. realizes he wants more from life than
covering up other people's mistakes.
Even as he takes young Charlie under his wing and returns the attraction
Charlie feels for him, J.T fears the truth about his past will drive
Charlie away. Will Charlie and J.T. sacrifice their happiness for the
sake of the family, or can they find a way to stay true to each other?
Sample
There was a boy reading at the end of the bar. "Boy" was probably an exaggeration; he looked young, certainly, but he was old enough to order a drink and read his book without anyone bothering him. He had a distinct profile: a prominent nose and full mouth, and eyes, when he looked up, that were wide, bright, and lively.
It wasn't unusual for people to read in bars, as this was a college town, and people were always studying anywhere they could find a place to sit. The Granby was a well-lit gay bar modeled after a traditional English pub, not too noisy even with the jukebox playing, and most nights there'd be a few students studying alone or couples holding hands while they quizzed each other on biology or American history.
There shouldn't be any more students around, though. The term was over and everyone should have gone home. What this boy was doing here was a mystery.
J.T. Fogarty could not keep his eyes off the boy, as much he tried. He wasn't the only one: the boy had been approached by three other men as J.T. watched, but had sent all three away -- gently, with that amazing smile, so that none of them left looking angry or dejected.
As he watched, the boy looked up again and gave the bar a sweeping glance, and the boy's eyes landed on him. J.T. meant to look away but couldn't, and for a moment too long they only stared at each other.
The boy smiled. It was beautiful.
J.T. looked away. He picked up his drink and moved to a booth, where he could watch the parade of humanity -- most of them known to him, this town was too small and he'd lived here too long for many surprises in the gay community -- and drink in peace, and not think about mysterious boys and their reading. If he were younger, J.T. thought, if he were someone other than this scruffy, tired, hollow-eyed fellow in a raincoat, he'd smile back, maybe even try to talk to the boy himself.
But he wasn't: he was older by twenty years or more than the students, and he'd never been considered particularly handsome, and most nights he left the Granby on his own. And even when he didn't it was just a way of ignoring the obvious, and in the morning he was still alone.
He doubted he would be good company to anyone tonight, anyway. Dilys Tate Bly, his cousin and sometime employer, had requested a favor from him, and doing favors for Dilys never left him in a good mood. Today it was persuading Sophie Travers Tate, wife of city councilman Philip Tate, to end her affair so Philip wasn't disgraced by a divorce before the election. If Dilys wanted her cousin to divorce Sophie after the election, he would. Dilys always got what she wanted.