Mix 'n' Match

Layla Dorine

Description

The heart wants what the heart wants.Race...Culture...Creed...Become little more than words in the dictionary when the heart sets its sights on its desire.Join our authors as they explore interracial themes ranging from the challenges of loving someone from another culture to fighting for the right to love at all.MIX AND MATCHCelebrate diversity with us.STORIES INCLUDEDFORBIDDENLAYLA DORINESage never imagined a trip down south would lead to so many discoveries.He also never expected to meet Eugene, who is as different from Sage as north from south.Two young men from different backgrounds.Can they find friendship and love while surrounded by those who consider their desires to be forbidden?THROUGH THE FRONT DOOREDDY LEFEYA front door could be many things:Hope, fear, a fresh start, a cold expanse of nothingness.What will Thomas Ng's front door mean for Daniel Grimm?DECEPTIVE HISTORIESERIC GOBERWhen Miguel falls for Van, he gets caught in the crosshairs of an angry spirit.A spirit who cursed Van's family long ago.Can Miguel and Van break the curse?Or will their lives end in ruin?MESCHIANZA MEETINGSASTA IDONEAPhiladelphia, 1778Lieutenant Penton has two problems: dealing with society functions and hiding his passion for Isaac, a slave.When invited to assist with preparations for the Meschianza, he sees it as a brief escape from both.However, the night will prove to have more to offer than he ever would have dreamed possible.A HOPELESS MIRAGEKEVIN CAUCHERAfter hearing "no rice" enough times, Guy decided to swear off dating apps and men, only to find himself falling for his best friend's boyfriend.A TOUCH OF PARADISEALINA POPESCUHauled to work in Hawaii, Tudor has little time to enjoy the island paradise.His obnoxious friend Radu has it much easier, using his free time to set Tudor up, dangling a willing Hawaiian beauty in front of him.Having been burned by long-distance relationships before, Tudor stubbornly resists Kahoni's advances.But can Tudor be worn down enough to enjoy a touch of paradise?A SURPRISING SERVICEA. LUSCHIt's another frustrating chore in Nick's day: getting the boiler serviced.But when Prince walks through the door, it's not just the heating that gets hot.BELONGLILY VELDENSent by the Royal Flying Doctor Service to curb an outbreak of influenza in an Australian outback aboriginal community, Dr. Dan is ready for anything.Except Tommy...A half-caste aboriginal who feels he doesn't belong...Anywhere.KISS OF THE SOUTHKASSANDRA LEAThe north and south have been divided by war. But love has other plans for Joseph Calder and Ephraim Pickett.HOMEDALE CAMERON LOWRYWhat if the man you thought you could never have was waiting for you all along?

Sujets

• Science fiction

Informations

• Publié par: Wayward Ink Publishing
• Date de parution: 24 mars 2016
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781925222814
• Langue: English
• Poids de l'ouvrage: 2 Mo

Extrait

Published by
Wayward Ink Publishing
Unit 1, No. 8 Union Street
Tighes Hill NSW 2297
Australia
http://www.waywardinkpublishing.com
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the authors imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
Forbidden Copyright 2016 by Layla Dorine
Through The Front Door Copyright 2016 by Eddy LeFey
Deceptive Histories Copyright 2016 by Eric Gober
Meschianza Meetings Copyright 2016 by Asta Idonea
A Hopeless Mirage Copyright 2016 by Kevin Caucher
A Touch of Paradise Copyright 2016 by Alina Popescu
A Surprising Service Copyright 2016 by A. Lusch
Belong Copyright 2016 by Lily Velden
Kiss Of The South Copyright 2016 by Kassandra Lea
Home Copyright 2016 by Dale Cameron Lowry
Cover Art by: Adrian Rafail
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the Publisher, except where permitted by law. To request permission and all other enquiries, contact Wayward Ink Publishing at: Unit 1, No. 8 Union Street, Tighes Hill, NSW, 2297, Australia.
http://www.waywardinkpublishing.com
eBook ISBN: 978-1-925222-81-4
Contents
Forbidden
Through The Front Door
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Epilogue
Deceptive Histories
Meschianza Meetings
A Hopeless Mirage
A Touch Of Paradise
A Surprising Service
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Belong
Kiss Of The South
Home
OTHER WAYWARD INK PUBLISHING ANTHOLOGIES
IT WAS A HOT, dusty June afternoon when Sage Freedom Carter roared into Buford s Bridge. All he brought with him was a motorcycle, a backpack, a small seashell hidden in the pocket of his jeans, and a view of the world that was foreign to most folks in the small South Carolina town.
THE BELL JANGLED on the door of the crab shack, announcing the arrival of another customer. Eugene stepped from the back, order pad in hand, and froze. The guy who stood just inside the doorway, looking around, clearly wasn t from Buford s Bridge or any other surrounding town. At just under six feet, it wasn t his size that made him stand out but the clothes he was wearing: dusty, faded blue jeans, plain white T-shirt, black leather bomber jacket, and scuffed Army boots. His hair was hippie long and wavy, the chestnut strands framing a tan, almost feminine face. From across the room, Eugene couldn t be certain what color his eyes were, but they were clearly trying to take in all the seashells, decorative crabs, and starfish that decorated the place. Someone entered behind him, annoyed to find the entrance blocked, and shouldered past the stranger with a grunt. Eugene watched as Willie Jenkins, a cousin on his mother s side, dropped into a seat at the counter.
Catfish n some sweet tea, and put some of that fried okra on the plate, too, Willie instructed the moment he caught Eugene s eye.
Sure. Are you takin an order back for your mamma? Eugene asked as he made note of it on his pad.
Don t you know it. She ll have my head if I don t bring her none.
Eugene smiled and called the order back to his pops, letting him know that one of those platters was to go. By the time he returned to the counter, the guy in the bomber jacket was standing there scanning the menu while Willie glared at him. The guy seemed oblivious, though, and flashed Eugene a smile.
Can I get you somethin ? Eugene asked, noting that the other man s eyes were an odd shade of hazel. Even more startling was the fact they were lined with black eyeliner and green eye shadow, making the color stand out even more.
Shrimp, hush puppies, and lemonade, please.
They don t serve no sissy boys here! Willie declared, coming to his feet and towering a good six inches over the guy, who just turned his head a little and smirked.
Well then, I guess you re wastin your time sitting there, the stranger replied, and returned his gaze to Eugene, who took a step back as Willie s ham-hock-sized fists clenched. Dark eyes narrowed and his nut-brown skin took on a slightly darker hue.
What did you say to me? Willie roared, the deep bass of his voice making Eugene take another step back. A pot lid clanged loudly as Eugene s eyes skimmed between the two men, waiting to see what would happen. All the while, those hazel eyes never seemed to stop watching Eugene s face.
What s goin on out here? Eugene s father asked as he stepped up beside his son. Eugene had never been more grateful for his towering, burly presence. In truth, he often wished he could be more like his father. James Franklin McMillon had a six-inch afro currently encased in a hairnet. His skin was three shades darker than Eugene s own caramel tone and he was far thicker and heavier than his son.
This little sissy boy here, Cousin James, he be out here shooting off his smart mouth. Surprised he s not wearing lipstick on it.
The long-haired man s eyes had narrowed and Eugene noticed a subtle tic to his jaw, like he was biting down hard to keep from commenting. Eugene s father eyed the stranger and gestured to a table.
Might be a good idea if you sit over there and keep your mouth shut unless you re orderin , he declared.
The young man opened his mouth, then snapped it closed upon seeing the stormy look on James face. With a nod, he walked over to the table and sat down. James stood for a moment, surveying the room, before heading back to the kitchen, Eugene in tow.
Now you see what I been talking about, boy, James said to him as he began shelling shrimp.
Eugene nodded and got to work on the hush puppies, hoping to avoid another lecture on his own sexuality.
Don t let me catch you painting your face like no girl, nor your nails, either.
Eugene looked down at his blunt fingernails, cracked in places from working around the shack. He doubted a coat of paint would do much to improve them.
Are you listening when I m talking to you?
Yes, sir, Eugene replied. I won t ever do that, Pops.
Good. I still think you ll grow out of it. You just need to pray to the Lord to send you the right woman and you ll see.
Eugene closed his eyes, wishing his father could understand that no amount of prayer was going to erase his interest in men. Luckily, his father turned his attention to the shrimp and catfish, and it wasn t long before Eugene was serving Willie his plate, then approaching the stranger to give him his meal.
Thank you, the stranger said as Eugene set the platter down in front of him. He lifted his eyes to meet Eugene s once more and Eugene found himself wondering if those hazel eyes would be as mesmerizing without the makeup. It wasn t until after he d walked back to the kitchen that Eugene realized he d forgotten to say, You re welcome.
Laughter and the thud of the back door slamming announced the return of his mother and two sisters. They d take over the duties of taking the orders and keeping the drinks refilled, leaving Eugene to help his father in the kitchen. He wished they d taken a little longer; he d have loved the chance to talk to the stranger before the supper crowd came in.
THE NEXT TIME Eugene saw the stranger with the hazel eyes, he was heading down the road to his family s home in his father s rattling old pickup, on a mission to gather some more okra. The stranger knelt beside a dusty motorcycle on the side of the road, tinkering with it. Eugene slowed and considered driving past, but conscience and curiosity got the better of him. He d thought the stranger had long since left town, and wondered what reason he could possibly have for sticking around, unless the broken-down machine was keeping him trapped there. Eugene pulled over a little ways ahead of him and got out, walking back to the stranger and the bike.
Do you need a hand? Eugene asked, unsure of how much help he d be able to be, considering this was the closest he d ever been to a motorcycle. When the stranger looked up, Eugene was startled to see his face scrubbed free of makeup and a dark bruise on his left cheek.
More like a ride, the stranger replied. If you think we can lift this old boy into the back of your truck.
Eugene blinked, shocked at the low, sultry smoothness of the stranger s voice. A ride to where? I can t take too long getting back to the shack.
Just to my uncle and aunt s place out on Watermelon Road. I m staying with them.
Not too many folks live out there; they all kin to you?
Yes, the stranger replied, standing and trying to wipe the oil from his hands onto the blue rag he d pulled from his pocket.
What s your name? Eugene asked as he tried to make up his mind whether to give him a ride or not. His pops wouldn t be happy if he took too long.
Sage Free... err Carter, he replied.
Eugene cocked his head, shocked to hear someone stammer over their own name. Free?
Freedom, actually. My given name is Sage Freedom Mercury Rising Carter.
Eugene tried not to smile too much at that, lest Sage think he was laughing at him, but it was certainly a mouthful and no one Eugene had ever known in his whole life had a name like that. Most folks around here were just named after kin, which was why anytime they called out the name James McMillon at church, Eugene s father and four other cousins stood up. Eugene couldn t help but wonder how many folks actually laughed when Sage told them his name.
I m Eugene. Come on, let s get that thing loaded up.
Thanks. Sage began wheeling the bike toward the pickup. It took some grunting and groaning and a few colorful words from Sage that left Eugene blushing by the time they got it loaded. The pair climbed into the truck and headed for Wa