Because of a deathbed promise to his father, Elijah Peck reluctantly left his friends and successful career in Bridgeport to return to Willowby, Connecticut, the small town of his upbringing, in order to run the antique shop that had been in his family for generations. Now, in just the span of two years, Eli has morphed into a social recluse, isolated in what he believes is a stuffy, suffocating nowheresville. With no thriving gay community at his disposal, and with his entire existence wrapped around the store he never really wanted, Eli's devoted little time to his personal needs. As a result, instead of acting like a man in his mid-thirties, living out his own dreams, maybe even finding love with the right guy, he often feels like just another item in his shop -- a dusty, moldy antique that has seen better days.<br><br>But all that starts to change when a stranger moves to Willowby.<br><br>One night outside his shop, Eli has a chance encounter with Neville "Gray" Grayson, a wickedly handsome musician who's purposely left the bustle of New York City in favor of quiet country living. Eli is instantly drawn to Gray, and the flirtatious jazzman stirs dormant feelings inside Eli, reinvigorating his hopes for a brighter future. Not only does Gray make Eli feel attractive for the first time in years, but also makes him appreciate small-town life in a way he never has before. And Eli can't help but wonder if Gray's presence also offers the promise of finding much-needed companionship, sexual fulfillment, and perhaps even love ...

When the Jazzman Sings

“I-I’ll give you a nice discount for all this, you know,” I stammered.


“I appreciate anything you can do, of course, but it’s not necessary. I mean, you have to make a living, right?”


“Huh?” My dick once again came alive with the prospect of getting fucked into eternity, or slamming into him until he erupted all over me. I wondered what Bertie would do if I dragged Gray up to my apartment for a session of rowdy and raucous sex. I could picture her perched on a ladder, one of her ears actually extended from her head and pressed like a stethoscope against the white-washed ceiling. “An actual—”


“Bed. Yeah. You know what those are for, don’t you?” There came that cocky smile again, reemphasizing my sexual notions. “The place where you sleep, among other things.” His grin widened. “I saw something up front that may just be to my liking.”


Chapter 15