Hi guys! We have Michael Bailey stopping by today with the tour for his new release Looking Forward, we have a great exclusive except and a brilliant $10 Amazon GC giveaway, so check out the post and enter the giveaway! ❤ ~Pixie~
Owen Hannity was nineteen when he lost almost everyone he thought he could trust. Each loss more painful than the last.
With the unwavering support of his best friend, Andy, Owen put the pieces of his life back together. Now, more than two decades later, Owen owns and operates a successful comic shop. Despite his modicum of success, he still feels like a shell of a man, carrying the emotional scars from his past.
Without warning, Owen’s past returns. Secrets come to light. Secrets that could either destroy Owen or finally give him the strength to re-evaluate everything he thought he knew about Andy, himself, and the way in which he views the world.
To see that he is truly worthy of loving himself and finally begin…
I grabbed the cup of coffee from the sink and opened the door, only to find my bedroom empty. A small wave of disappointment washed through me that I couldn’t quite explain. “Andy?”
“In the kitchen making His Highness a pot of coffee so he doesn’t turn into a mass murderer. Be right there.”
My heart swelled at his snark. He was still the same Andy he’d always been, taking care of me as if nothing had happened the night before. He knew me so well. One cup was not going to cut it. At least not this morning. Just as quickly, a pang of loss ricocheted through me because I knew that our time together was coming to an end. I wasn’t sure how I was expected to handle that. I wandered out of the bedroom, taking my time in order to gather my thoughts as best I could.
The coffee smelled like heaven as I entered the kitchen. Andy was puttering with some dishes I had left in the sink, rinsing them before putting them in the dishwasher. I went to the cupboard to pull out a coffee cup. “Want some?”
“Yes! Gas station coffee’s nasty!”
My hand stopped as I reached for the second cup. “You lowered yourself to gas station coffee? You brought me gas station coffee?”
“’Thank you for thinking of me, Andy.’ Beggars can’t be choosers, ass. You don’t exactly live near a Starbucks.”
I grabbed the second cup, feeling properly scolded. Then, I grabbed the vanilla creamer and poured it into one cup, knowing just the right amount that Andy liked. I took mine black, and he rarely let an opportunity go to tell me it was like my soul.
I handed him his cup. While he poured his coffee, he said, “Remind me never to go to one of your parties ever again.”
“Because, Owen. I think you watched way too many soaps as a kid. So much drama at big events.”
I couldn’t argue with that. I had watched a lot of Days of Our Lives and General Hospital in my adolescence. You just knew all of the town’s secrets could spill out at any given wedding or party. At least Andy’s going-away party didn’t kick off a murder mystery, I mused to myself. “This coming from the man that has a flair for the dramatic.”
“Yes,” he said, sliding a kitchen chair from under the table and taking a seat. “Because I want to be the center of attention.”
I leaned against the countertop and took a sip of my coffee. “I’m sorry for that, by the way. I never intended for any of that to happen.”
“I know you didn’t. I still don’t understand why he had to bring her anyway. Didn’t he think it was a little…crass to bring the bitch that split the two of you up?”
I sighed because I had given that some thought. “As much as I’d like to, I can’t lay all of this at her feet. I’d like to blame her for the whole thing, but it’s very possible that she didn’t even know I existed in the beginning.”
Andy waved that away. “Doesn’t matter. He should have known better. If what he said is true, and she magically flew in on her broom the night before with very little notice, he could have ducked out of the party. It’s not like I’d miss him. Anyway, why did you invite him?”
“Because he’s your family.”
“Owen, you of all people know that blood isn’t always thicker than water. Sometimes the people that do the most damage are the ones related to you.”
I’m the oldest of three, from the Glass Capital of the world, Toledo Ohio.
Don’t laugh too hard.
I’ve dreamed of writing since I was eleven years old when I wrote a truly awful Choose-Your-Own-Adventure. It sold exactly zero copies. I think my mother may have a copy lying around somewhere. Mothers keep that kind of thing.
Through junior high and high school, I wrote a number of short stories, one actually published in the first (and only) issue of his high school’s literary magazine.
Life took control shortly thereafter, as it often does, and the dream of writing was put on hold. Then, in November of 2016, I took a leap of faith, and began writing my first novel as part of the National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo) competition. The goal of the competition is to write a 50,000-word novel in a thirty-day period.
However, on the advice of a friend, I “pushed through”. And so, in September of 2017, my first novel was published.