Hi guys, we have the absolutely delightful Scotty Cade popping in today with his upcoming release Losing Faith, we have a fantastic guest post from Scotty, we have a great excerpt and a brilliant giveaway, so enjoy the post and leave a comment to enter the giveaway! <3 ~Pixie~ 

Losing Faith

Scotty Cade

Father Cullen Kiley, a gay Episcopal priest on hiatus from the church, decides to take his boat, T-Time, from Provincetown, Massachusetts, to Southport, North Carolina, a place that holds an abundance of bittersweet memories for him. While on a run his first day in Southport, Cullen comes upon a man sitting on a park bench staring out over the Cape Fear River with his Bible in hand. The man’s body language reeks of defeat and desperation, and unable to ignore his compassion for his fellow man, Cullen stops to offer a helping hand.

Southport Baptist Church’s Associate Pastor, Abel Weston, has a hard time managing his demons. When they get too overwhelming, he retreats to Southport’s Historic Riverwalk with his Bible in hand and stares out over the water, praying for help and guidance that never seem to come. But Abel soon discovers that help and guidance come in many forms.

An unexpected friendship develops between the two men, and as Cullen helps Abel begin to confront his doubts and fears, he comes face-to-face with his own reality, threatening both their futures.

Scotty Cade

Hi All,

Scotty Cade here. First I’d like to thank Miss Pixie and everyone over at MM Good Book Reviews for allowing me to tell you about my latest release, “Losing Faith,” coming on June 10^th. I hope you enjoy hearing about the inspiration and later in the posts you can read an excerpt and I’ll tell you how you can win a book of your choice from my backlist.

So where to start. Wow! I have to say I’m a little nervous about this one. This story deals with religion, faith, and the power of our dreams to help us deal with reality and sometimes guide us to things that are right in front of our faces.

As most of you know, I was raised in the South where you never speak of anything negative or distasteful. LOL! Hence speaking about politics and religion were definitely not part of our daily lives. My father always preached to stay away from such topics because they are very personal to many and you never know where a person might stand. With all that said, I did manage to stay away from politics, but religion didn’t get off so easily. Two very different religions with very different beliefs are at the center of this story and the experience called to me so strongly, I couldn’t not write about it. To hell with etiquette!

However, as you read this post and hopefully the book, you’ll keep in mind that I fault no religions as everyone has their beliefs, which may not match mine, but everyone is entitled to their own opinions.

The story was inspired by a single moment in time. One instant when two virtual strangers made decisions that altered their lives. A personal encounter that stayed with me for weeks until I had no choice but to start writing.

The only difference in my encounter versus the one in the book is that the fictional character did the right thing where I lacked the courage—a decision I will regret for the rest of my life.

Here’s how it went. Kell and I were on our boat on our yearly trek down south from our home on Martha’s Vineyard and had just arrived in a little town called Southport, North Carolina. It’s really a charming town, and we planned on staying there for about a month and a half, before we moved farther south to Charleston, South Carolina. And believe it or not, during our time in Southport, we saw no signs of discrimination and were treated with respect and dignity. So hats off to the people of NC for rising above the politics and the opinions of a handful of people.

Sorry, I digress. Anyway after eight days on the water from Martha’s Vineyard, we were very excited to finally be in our temporary home in Southport. On our first morning at the marina, I went for my usual five-mile run and chose a route that took me along the Historic Southport Riverwalk. It was a beautiful morning, and the sun was just above the horizon, causing the dew on the grass to sparkle like little diamonds. I remember it so vividly.

So, I was running along at my usual pace, enjoying my solitude with no one else in sight, when I saw a man sitting on a park bench quite a distance ahead of me. Even from my vantage point, his body language seemed ominous and overwhelmed. His elbows were resting on his knees, and he was staring blankly out over the Cape Fear River. As I got closer, I saw the man was extremely handsome, well-groomed, clean-cut, and very nicely dressed in a crisp white shirt, dark slacks, and a tie. The type of guy one might describe as metrosexual. And he was holding a book and rubbing his thumb gently over its cover.

Then the man moved his book a certain way and the sun reflected off of something gold. I knew in my heart instantly; he was holding the Holy Bible. The man really looked like he needed a friend. All sorts of possibilities ran through my head. Death. Depression. Illness. He was clearly struggling with something. I continued running toward him, trying to decide if I should stop, but I looked around, and there was no one except the two of us in the park. There were plenty of open park benches and swings overlooking the river, so I could think of no good reason to stop at his particular bench. In addition, I was fearful if I stopped, he might think I was trying to rob him—or even worse trying to pick him up. So therein lay my dilemma. Take a chance on being considered a thief or quite possibly a pervert or offer assistance to help someone who might be in need.

I think you know where this is going. Unfortunately, I didn’t have the courage to stop, and I ran right past the guy. Truly, I don’t even think he even saw me as he was so deep in thought. I did greet him as I passed, but if I got a response, I didn’t hear it.

When I arrived back at the boat, I told Kell and the friends who were on board with us about my experience, and they seemed unaffected, but the encounter stayed with me all day and night.

The next morning, I ran again. The same time and the same route. And I’ve done that every day we’ve been here—over a month, but I never saw the stranger again. Of course, this sent my mind into a tizzy of guilt. Was the guy sick? Or, even worse, was he so distraught he took his own life? All these ideas plagued me and stayed with me. Even after I started this book. Even early on I struggled with where to take his desperation. Do I go the sick or suicidal route or take the story somewhere else?

And before I really get started, just know, although I am a very spiritual person, I’m not a particularly religious one. I have my own personal relationship with the man upstairs, but I’m not a fan of organized religion. In my humble opinion, organized religion sometimes gives a certain group of people the right to discriminate against others who are not like them in the name of their God. Those of us in the LGBTQ+ community have most recently seen this regarding the right to marry. I won’t give this woman any more publicity by mentioning her name, but you know to whom I’m referring. On the flip side of that coin, sometimes organized religion helps people be accepting of others. So there. I’m trying to be diplomatic.

Anyway, this book focuses on two very different religions. The Episcopal Church and the Southern Baptist Church. I did a lot of research on both, and apart from their mutual love of the Gospel, they have very little in common. Their interpretations of the Word are very different to say the least. The Episcopalians welcome everyone to worship. They even ordain women and gay men as priests and bishops, while on the other hand, the Southern Baptists do not believe in women as ordained ministers and believe homosexuality is a grave sin. In fact, if you are gay, you will only be welcomed into the church if you denounce your homosexual desires and seek their help to change your sexual orientation through prayer,  fellowship and whatever other methods they see as fit.

Now this is generalizing the religions, and the last thing I want to do is offend, but for the record, I got all my information from the Southern Baptist Convention’s official website and the Episcopal Church’s official website. Their beliefs are clearly written there, and all you need to do is Google either to see what I mean.

However, the next part of the book delves into the power of our dreams. Many people believe dreams are an open doorway to our souls, a way for our lost loved ones to communicate with us. And… I just happen to be one of those people.

But many others believe dreams are just our subconscious validating things we want to believe. Things like getting one last look at a lost loved one or simply knowing they are okay and have moved on. Things along those lines. In addition, when some people dream of a tragedy, they take it as a sign and try to avoid a certain situation, while others simply dismiss it as a nightmare triggered by something they saw on television or something someone said. In this book, one character’s dreams are portals, for lack of a better word, for a lost loved one to come back and try to help the one left behind to move on with his life.

I hope you take all of this as it is meant. The story is one of loss, identity, hypocrisy, need, and love. Writing it has helped me gain a little closure by giving my characters the happy ending I so hope my stranger enjoyed and easing my guilt a little for not stopping to help a fellow man in need.

I really hope you enjoy the excerpt!

Now. If you read this blog posts and feel comfortable posting a response, I’d love to hear about any experiences you’ve had with dreams making a difference in your life. For instance, shortly as my mother died, she came to me in a dream. She was beautiful, pain free and gleefully happy. She smiled broadly and told me she was where she needed to be and we would be together again someday. The dream eased my pain and helped me grieve properly, not for her, but for me.

So I’d love to hear about your personal experiences with dreams. Everyone who posts will be entered into a drawing to win a book of their choice from my backlist, so please take a minute and share your story. Maybe it will help someone else who might be struggling with something similar. Now on to the excerpt.

Excerpt

What stupidity!

A Cabo sports fishing yacht had just blown past him at top speed, creating a massive, unpredictable, and potentially devastating wake. Cullen Kiley sucked in a ragged breath and tightened his grip on the steering wheel. While he prepared for the impact of the tsunami-like wave, Cullen said a prayer for the tiny houseboat off his starboard bow, which was surely going to be swamped. He didn’t know why he prayed. Out of habit, he guessed.

On the Intracoastal Waterway, everyone was responsible for their own wake, so most boaters were kind, courteous, and offered nice slow passes to smaller boats. But not this guy. He was blowing past every boat on the busy waterway, literally leaving pandemonium in his wake.

Cullen had little time to do anything but cut into the large waves and hope for the best. The first wave smashed against his hull, the impact sending T-Time, his forty-eight-foot Sea Ray motor yacht, rocking and rolling. He could hear objects flying off the shelves down below. He imagined drawers opening and slamming closed and then cringed when he heard one extra loud crash he couldn’t begin to identify.

As usual, God hadn’t heard his prayer. The small houseboat in front of him nearly swamped, pitching hard from port to starboard and twisting violently in the gigantic wave. The captain was doing his best to keep her steady but not really succeeding.

“Typical,” Cullen mumbled under his breath. “Thanks again, God.”

Cullen heard the captain of the houseboat hail Knot Nice, the Cabo yacht, on the VHF radio, and he smiled when the captain called the guy every name under the sun.

Knot Nice is right. Cullen had half a mind to hail the Coast Guard and report the maniac but figured unless they witnessed him operating his vessel dangerously, they really wouldn’t do anything but give him a warning.

When the danger passed and Cullen had made sure the tiny houseboat didn’t need assistance, he put his boat in neutral, and breaking his own golden rule, he left the helm and ran down below. He never ever left the helm while underway, but since he’d decided to make this trip alone, he’d have to fudge on that rule a little.

He just needed a few seconds to make sure there were no real catastrophes belowdecks. The saloon was a mess, with things strewn everywhere, but nothing that couldn’t wait until he docked later that afternoon. Cullen was about to head back to the helm when he spotted a pile of broken glass laying on the galley floor. Dread washed over him. Cole’s vase. Cullen closed his eyes and dropped his head in defeat. Then suddenly he looked up to the heavens and slammed his fist down onto the companionway steps. “Seriously, God? Of all the things to break?”

Angry and forlorn, Cullen again took the helm, but his mood was now drastically different. So far, his trip from Provincetown, Massachusetts, to Southport, North Carolina, had gone exceptionally well. And if he were being honest, he had enjoyed it more than he’d anticipated, but now he was just ready for it to be over. And luckily for him, today was the last leg. Southport was just about a hundred miles ahead of him.

About Scotty

Scotty Cade left Corporate America and twenty-five years of Marketing and Public Relations behind to buy an Inn & Restaurant on the island of Martha’s Vineyard with his partner of over twenty years.   He started writing stories as soon as he could read, but just five years ago for publication.  When not at the Inn, you can find him on the bow of his boat writing gay romance novels with his Shetland sheepdog Mavis at his side.  Being from the south and a lover of commitment and fidelity, most of his characters find their way to long healthy relationships, however long it takes them to get there.  He believes that in the end, the boy should always get the boy.

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Giveaway!

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