Title: Won’t Feel a Thing
Author: C.F. White
Series: St. Cross #1
Release Date: December 19th 2017
Genre: Contemporary MM Romance
It takes more than a doctor to mend a broken heart.
Ollie Warne is fresh out of nursing school and working his dream job as a pediatric cardiology nurse at St Cross Children’s Hospital, London. He wants to start the new year free of personal heartache after his track record of falling for the wrong man–his New Year’s resolution is to live a life of carefree liaisons from now on.
He immediately meets Jacob, father of one of Ollie’s patients and a man harboring more guilt and past demons than even Ollie, which is saying something…
Their growing attraction makes it hard for Ollie to keep his distance, but he has to. Not only do the ethics of his profession demand it, but Ollie is entangled with another man–a predatory doctor who has a huge personal and professional stake in Ollie’s life.
Ollie risks more than his job by getting involved with a patient’s father–and much more than just the success of his New Year’s resolution, something that was supposed to ensure that, this time, he won’t feel a thing.
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“What?” Ollie grumbled. “It’s technically my bedtime.”
“Sorry.” Jacob shook his head, his hair falling in tassels around his face. He swiped it back, and Ollie noted the effort it took him to keep his eyes fixed on Ollie’s face. “It’s just…”
Jacob gave up on saying anything further. And evidently abandoned trying to keep his eyes northward. He stepped in the door, slid a freezing-cold hand onto Ollie’s bare hip and kissed him. He dug his fingertips into Ollie’s skin, deepening the frenzied kiss. Ollie was squeezed against Jacob’s fully winter-wrapped warm body as he stumbled into the flat and the door clicked shut behind him.
Ollie kissed back for a brief moment, reveling in the sweet taste of Jacob’s mouth and the firm grip the man had on him. Jacob roamed both hands around to his arse, but before Ollie could allow himself to be picked up again, he wriggled free and stepped back, slapping a hand to Jacob’s chest.
“Calm your shit,” Ollie demanded.
Jacob stepped back. “Sorry,” he mumbled. “It’s just, you, I don’t know, I can’t—”
Ollie couldn’t help but smile. Whether or not the guy was a player, he was bloody good at making Ollie feel number one when in his presence. He just had to remember there could well be a string of number ones.
“Go sit your arse in there.” Ollie waved toward the lounge area. “I’ll get some clothes on.”
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Brought up in the relatively small town in Hertfordshire, I managed to do what most other residents of the town try and fail. Leave.
Going off to study at a West London University, I realised there was a whole city out there just waiting to be discovered, so much like Dick Whittington before, I never made it back home and still endlessly searches for the streets paved with gold; slowly coming to the realisation that it is mostly paved with chewing gum. And the odd bit of graffiti. And those little circles of yellow spray paint where the council point out the pot holes to someone who is supposedly meant to fix them instead of stare at them endlessly whilst holding a polystyrene foam cup of watered down coffee.
Eventually I moved from West to East along that vast District Line, and settled for pie and mash, cockles and winkles, and a bit of Knees Up Mother Brown to live in the East End of London; securing a job, creating a life, a home, a family.
Having worked in Higher Education for the most proportion of my adult life, a life-altering experience brought pen back to paper, having written stories as a child but never having the confidence to show them to the world. Now embarking on this writing malarkey, I cannot stop. So strap in, it’s a bumpy ride from here on in.