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

Pretending not to watch as Calvin reached down to stop Jefferson’s hand on his own cock, I could imagine the warning, “Don’t finish yourself too fast, Jefferson.” Hard beneath the surface of the still, clear water, the thought of taking my hard-on in my grasp was tempting. Facing away from Patrick, I wondered what he was doing. Did I dare turn to see?


“I don’t mind the back of you,” he said. “It’s quite beautiful, in fact, but your eyes delight me.”


“My eyes?” I asked, using them to take in his body, thick with muscle and coated in red wisps that curled when wet. He’d referred to the roundness at the sides of his belly as “love handles” once, in another century, in another setting. I wouldn’t have minded holding on to them right then, as I sank underwater to get at his dick.


Chapter 77