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

“The first line, Goose.” I could barely hear him now. “If I’m able. Will that do?”


“Twelve notes. A-a-ma-zi-i-ing grace…”


I only got seven. “Jefferson? Jefferson!”


The unexplained phenomenon that had happened next—unexplained except to me—brought chills all over again, as did my actions afterward.


I had a small knife on my keychain, which I pulled out of my pocket. “Would the tree mind, Jefferson?” I desperately wanted to hear him. Nothing came, though, until the trill of a cardinal. “At night?” I questioned the sky, not my sanity. The bird performed the slide whistle tone twice, and then trilled twelve times. Twelve. It wasn’t the right tune for “Amazing Grace,” but it was the right number of notes. “Thank you,” I whispered.


Chapter 134