From a tiny acorn grows a mighty oak, so it is with love. Undaunted by rain, snow, thunder and lighting, and even a tornado, Goose and Patrick weathered many storms from first meeting to marriage. By their side through it all, Jefferson and Calvin shared their own love story as Goose and Patrick’s guides through the present and the past and their guardian angels in Heaven and on Earth. Contains the stories: Ghost Writer: Goose is finally allowing himself to feel something again, something like love. He and Jefferson have both been through a lot, war and escaping their abusive exes. There are two problems, though. Jefferson belongs to someone else, and he’s a ghost. While Goose tries to save a tree planted by Jefferson’s lover over a hundred years ago, Jefferson tries to heal Goose’s heart, broken far too long. Snowed In: Goose and Patrick: Four men, two in this realm and two in another, fight all sorts of obstacles, including war, separation, family dysfunction, racial prejudice, homophobia, and their own inner demons to fall in love and explore or recapture their sexuality. Each pair, from this century and one in the past, help the other along the way. Nine Minutes in Heaven: Goose’s lover Patrick ends up on one side of the light, with Jefferson and Calvin. Goose’s family and his dog, Wilbur, are on this side. When Goose is seriously injured and faced with a choice between Heaven and Earth, he finds the decision impossible to make, which could result in him being stuck somewhere in between. Ghosts of Honor: Goose and Patrick have weathered many storms, literally, a massive blizzard and figuratively, death. Will a tornado on their wedding day, a group of ghostly crashers, Goose’s distraction, and Patrick’s lingering emotional pain after the attack be too much to make it through this time?

Weathering the Storms Box Set

“I suppose—if this is your grave—you could have been buried before they found your diary. Or maybe they don’t know it’s your diary. I mean, maybe the diary wasn’t found with you.”


My hair was damp when I ran my hand through it, wet from exertion and one or two drops of rain, plus enough humidity to grow tropical plants.


“Hmm. One of your war buddies could have had your diary, but lost track of you.” I always chewed on my upper lip when nervous or thinking. I liked the scratch of my whiskers from under my lip and down on my chin when I rubbed them together. Just then, when I did it, I was reminded of kissing. “Is that what happened, Small Jefferson? Maybe?”


Jefferson offered no answer. And why would he? Just because Halloween was only a few days away, that didn’t mean ghosts were suddenly going to come out of their graves to talk to me.


“I’m at a Civil War reenactment, not a zombie convention.”


Where was the laughing moth when I needed her?


Chapter 13