Title: Drive
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Synopsis
Black Creek, you’re either old money or you work for them. Redmond Cole is the
latter. The long hours he spends fixing fancy cars in the local garage are
barely enough to support himself, let alone his sixteen-year-old half-sister,
Katie. All he wants is a better life for the both of them, one that’s easy and
real, but he has a secret. One that could blow up the meager existence he’s
worked so hard to maintain.
Katie, but Black Creek isn’t the most hospitable environment for those who are
different. His secrets keep them safe. He’s all but resigned to a life in the
closet when he’s propositioned by the dashing, wealthy Victor Itachi. What
follows is a secret and intense sexual relationship that challenges everything
Red believes about himself. When an unlikely friendship with the only out gay
man in town opens Red’s eyes to new possibilities, he must make a choice:
submit fully to the relative safety of Victor’s control or risk it all for a
chance at real love.
Excerpt
makes sense. Gears and wires. Oil and grease. All the parts fit together and
just work. Each piece has its own function, a logic. Completely predictable
even when damaged. Won’t turn over? Check the battery, the wiring, the
alternator. Find the broken piece and the whole thing comes alive again,
purring and growling and shrugging itself back into action.
of a Nissan Altima and flexed my back with a satisfying crack. The owner
brought it in complaining of overheating. The repair was a simple one. Just a
few hoses needed replacing. I wiped my grease-coated hands and folded my tall
frame into the driver’s seat. I flicked the key, and the engine turned over
easily. I tapped the accelerator and the temperature needle climbed before
stopping at normal. I smiled and gave the dash an affectionate pat.
inside the shop. I shut off the Nissan and stepped out to find my boss, Bo,
poking his square head into the garage, gesturing for me to join him. Visible
through a bank of windows behind him stood a neatly dressed man with long,
ink-black hair and a troubled expression. I’d seen him before. Many times, in
fact. He drove a silver BMW 5 series sedan, a fine machine and well-suited to a
man like him, and he brought it in monthly for regular maintenance.
the man. How the air changed with his appearance. How, like now, the gears in
my head locked up and stopped moving, and all I could do was stare, mesmerized
by the flow of his hair around his shoulders, the bow of his lips, his olive
skin. He was nothing like the rednecks here in Black Creek. I struggled for a
word to describe him. Pretty was what he was. Not in a feminine sense. More in
the way you think of a Ferrari 458 as pretty. Sleek and stylish with a touch of
ferocity lurking just beneath the shiny topcoat.
Bo’s irritated face.
here!”
me. I straightened my collar, immediately feeling ridiculous for doing so, and
made my way into the shop.
stepped through the door, “this is Redmond Cole. He’s our finest mechanic. I
can assure you he’ll have you fixed up in no time.”
hands shoved in my pockets. Mr. Itachi. Victor. I knew his name already, had
seen it on intake forms and receipts, but unlike the other countless names I
encountered daily this one stuck. He shifted nervously, his shiny leather shoes
scraping across the shop floor. I lifted my eyes just enough to see his lips
curl downward and lowered my head to hide my flush.
Longview, tomorrow,” he said, each word crisp and carefully formed. “It is
absolutely imperative it’s ready by first thing in the morning.”
my mouth, making the words thick.
roughly on the back with a meaty hand. “He’ll have it ready if he has to work
all night.”
my shoulder a tight, warning squeeze.
hands at his waist, and he released a long sigh. “I guess I’ll leave it to you
then.”
again. Bo released his grip on my shoulder and ushered the gentleman out in a fog
of reassurances, each one laced with a subtle threat pointed at me.
retreated into the garage. I leaned heavily against the Nissan I’d just been
working on. My coworker, Lawrence, squinted at me from underneath a Mazda 3,
and I pulled myself up straight.
his three-pack-a-day voice, jabbing his wrench toward the windows.
he comes around.”
“Money talks, I guess.”
under the Mazda. Here in Black Creek, there were two classes of people: the
obscenely wealthy and everyone else barely scraping by. Like every other East
Texas town, we were founded on lumber and natural gas. Those who got in early
prospered. Those who didn’t worked for them. Generations of people whose fate
was determined by the luck of their great-great-grandfathers, though something
told me Mr. Itachi’s story was different. The silver BMW pulled into the bay
next to me, and I peered at it over the Nissan’s roof.
myself.
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Meet the Author
Courtney Maguire is a University of Texas graduate from Corpus Christi, Texas. Drawn to Austin by a voracious appetite for music, she spent most of her young adult life in dark, divey venues nursing a love for the sublimely weird. A self-proclaimed fangirl with a press pass, she combined her love of music and writing as the primary contributor for Japanese music and culture blog, Project: Lixx, interviewing Japanese rock and roll icons and providing live event coverage for appearances across the country. Her first novel, Wounded Martyr, is a 2019 RWA® Golden Heart® Finalist in the Contemporary Romance: Short Category.
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