“Knobs” by Scotty Cade

Two cadets from very different worlds. One forbidden love.

Hi All,

Scotty Cade here. First I’d like to thank Love Bytes for allowing me to tell you a little bit about my newest release, “Knobs,” and give you a little bit of an idea as to the amount research that goes into this type of book. Later in the posts you can read an excerpt and I will be telling you how you can win a book from my backlist.

So when I was asked to write these blog spots, I posted on Facebook and asked my fans what in particular they would like to know about Knobs, besides the premise of course. The answers came in fast and furious and included a history of the Citadel and what all this “Hell Week” stuff is all about, The inspiration for the book, Character interviews with each main character, as well as a little about cadet life. I have six blog posts to do so I can cover all these requests with one or two to spare. So here goes. I hope you enjoy.

Before we get started, here is the blurb for Knobs.

Angus Conrad (Gus) McRae is a privileged Charlestonian following family tradition and attending the Citadel, harboring big dreams of a military career. With the infamous hell week behind him, he quickly realizes being a Knob (a freshman cadet) is just as tough—especially for a man like Gus who must keep his sexuality a secret. Then a sudden dorm reassignment places him in a room with one of the football team’s top players: working-class jock Stewart Adam (Sam) Morley—and life gets increasingly complicated.

Gus can’t imagine a man like Sam as gay, yet there’s something between them—exchanged glances, the occasional innuendo. Sexual tensions rise, leaving them more than friends but less than lovers. Gus and Sam know there’s too much to lose and they must keep their attraction hidden. If they fail, they risk destroying their hopes and dreams for a prosperous future in a military world that’s not yet ready to accommodate masculine gay men.

Buy Links:

Dreamspinner Press

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From the first day I walked onto the Citadel Campus, the military college of South Carolina has held a special place in my heart. I know several graduates from The Citadel and they are all well adjusted, successful and honorable men. They have an extremely strong alumni and its almost as if the alumni is like a support system of sorts to each other.

In doing my research, I utilized each of theses men and got their own personal takes on matriculation day, hell week, being a knob and their overall experience at the Citadel. Although each experience varied a little, they all concluded that hell week was the worst, as was their entire Knob year. But oddly enough looking back, they all said they wouldn’t have changed it for the world.

They each explained in various degrees that the Citadel, which utilizes the Fourth Class System is designed to strip everyone of their individual identity. In other words, they make everyone the same. During hell week, the cadets do everything at the same time. They dress alike. They eat the same thing at the same time. They do drills and physical training at the same time. For success, they have to break everyone down to a common denominator before they can start rebuilding them as leaders.

During my interviews, I heard various stories of how cadets are forced to sit on just three inches of their chair during mess or meals. How they must walk at 120 steps per minute when they navigate the campus in only the Knob lane of the sidewalk. They must stop and salute every upperclassman. They must memorize their next three meals each day. They can be tested about Citadel history randomly. They can have surprise inspections at any given hour of the day or night. And the list goes on and on.

Also in doing my research I read from cover to cover “The Guidon” which is the bible for Knobs. It tells cadets what to expect on matriculation day. What to expect during Hell Week? What they need to bring with them on their first day and provides an overall view of cadet life in general. But what I was also told by all three advisors that The Guidon gives an overview of the information the Citadel wants the cadets to see, but not everything. Such as hazing. The Citadel says it no longer tolerates hazing, but I’m told it still alive and well.

Additionally, I’ve spent over forty hours on the Citadel campus observing cadet life, walking the campus, hanging out in the coffee shop. Listening to cadet’s conversations and simply observing and I’ve got to tell you, everyone that is there seems to want to be there. Kell and I work out at the Citadel gym during the winter months and the comradery we see among cadets is amazing. Like none else I’ve ever experienced. I mean…I was in the scouting system from a Cub Scout to an Eagle Scout and although I have fellow scouts with whom I stay in touch, I never felt as strongly as these cadets regarding their fellow cadets. It is truly something to watch.

My only regret is that I am no longer of college age or I would have certainly given everything I had to attend the Citadel and be a part of something so much bigger than just one man.

In closing, I hope this gives you a good understanding of the discipline required to attend the Citadel and just a sneak peak into Gus and Sam’s world. The fact that they were able to find unexpected love in such a demanding environment and make it work shows the depth of their commitment. If you’ve ever been pushed to your limits, I’d like to hear about it. Please posts and each entry will be eligible for a free copy of “The Royal Street Heist.” Book one in the Bissonet & Cruz Investigations series.

Scotty Cade left Corporate America and twenty-five years of Marketing and Public Relations behind to buy an Inn & Restaurant on the island of Martha’s Vineyard with his partner of over twenty years.   He started writing stories as soon as he could read, but just five years ago for publication. When not at the Inn, you can find him on the bow of his boat writing gay romance novels with his Shetland sheepdog Mavis at his side. Being from the south and a lover of commitment and fidelity, most of his characters find their way to long healthy relationships, however long it takes them to get there. He believes that in the end, the boy should always get the boy.

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Excerpt:

 

His  alarm sounded at five thirty. Gus needed to be up, showered, dressed in his PT uniform, and in the courtyard by six o’clock for the first day of Hell Week, and he certainly didn’t want to be late. After a brief formation, his company was informally marched over to McAlister Field House, where they listened to a welcome and pep talk from Commandant Mercado. When they exited the building Gus knew he’d made the right decision in the Citadel. He felt empowered and almost ready to take on the world. Unfortunately, that feeling didn’t stay with him for very long.

The minute he pushed through the double doors of Watts, everything went horribly wrong. The Cadre! Those angry upperclassmen again. Because he was so tall, they had to stand on tiptoes, but they managed to get their faces just inches from his as they ranted and raved incoherently. They yelled louder and louder and started shoving until his company was maneuvered into a rudimentary formation. The Cadre marched them over to the mess hall for breakfast, yelling the entire time about how pitiful they looked in formation, and led them right to the steps of Coward Hall. There they were instructed to form a single line behind the Cadre and wait.

There was more yelling when each Knob was ordered to walk rapidly to their assigned table, which would be theirs for the entire semester. After finding his seat, Gus stood at attention behind his chair and waited for the other Knobs to fall in behind him. When everyone was at their table, they were ordered to “rest” or to “take seats.”

They were then instructed to sit on only the front three inches of the seat of their chairs with their backs straight upright. “Three inches, no more!” the Mess Carver yelled. The Mess Carver was an upperclassman who sat at the head of each table and was responsible for manners and the overall conduct of the table. The meal was served family style, and the upperclassmen were the first to plate their food. Once all the upperclassmen were comfortably seated with their heaping plates of dinner in front of them, the Knobs were then allowed to plate what was left. Gus and the other Knobs did as they were told and again waited.

But instead of giving the order to eat, the Carver started quizzing each of the Knobs. “You,” he said, pointing to the guy sitting next to Gus. “What’s on the dinner menu?”

Gus knew from everything he’d read that he should restrict his eyes to his mess, but he instinctively glanced briefly to the left, and the cadet looked like the proverbial deer in headlights. Shit! I shouldn’t have done that.

“Don’t know, sir.”

“Why not, Knob?”

“No excuse, sir.”

Apparently Gus’s interest hadn’t been missed by the Carver, who pointed at Gus. “If you’re so interested, Knob, you tell me, then. And if you can’t, before PT, you’re gonna do his twenty push-ups and twenty of your own.”

On the way into the mess during all the mayhem, Gus had remembered something his grandfather told him about how he should always memorize the day’s menu for all three meals. So he’d taken a quick glance at the bill of fare written on a whiteboard, and it was a damn good thing he had.

“Beef Tips over rice with brown gravy, sir!” Gus yelled. “Grilled chicken with vegetables and mashed potatoes and….” Fuck! What was the last thing? Oh Yeah! “And broiled trout with french fries and corn on the cob… sir!” The Mess Carver glared at him through squinted eyes, obviously pissed he knew the answers, but then he moved on to the next Knob.

Gus waited until the Carver had finished quizzing the other Knobs on everything from current events to history and had given the order to eat. Unfortunately, one of the cadets picked up his fork a little too soon and the Carver slammed a fist down onto the table, making everything rattle from the force of the blow. His company froze as they were instructed to all drop their forks, place their hands in their laps, and wait. The Carver started eating his meal and raving about how good the food was, making all sorts  of yummy sounds. They waited. And waited. And waited. And finally after at least fifteen minutes had passed, they received the order to eat. Gus hesitantly raised his fork, focused only on his mess, and took his first bite. His eggs and bacon were close to ice cold, but it all tasted like heaven.

Breakfast was quick, and before he knew it, Gus was being yelled at again to take his tray to the trash and get back into formation. When his company had complied, they were forced to march in the direction of Mark Clark Hall.

A chill ran up Gus’s spine when he realized what was up next. Shit! You knew this was coming, Gus. He had known it was coming, but somehow he’d tried to block it out of his mind. But that was no longer possible. When his company reached Mark Clark Hall, they were marched up the stairs and joined three existing lines disappearing into the building. The line moved quickly, the clacking sound of the clippers getting louder and louder until it was almost deafening. When Gus rounded the corner, he saw three barbers at the head of the three lines. There were piles of blond, brunet, and red hair surrounding the base of each barber chair. He looked around, and all the cadets’ eyes were as big as saucers. Each shaving took no more than forty-five seconds, and then the next person was in the chair.

When it was Gus’s turn, he squared his shoulders and bravely climbed into the chair. The barber put a drape around his neck, covering his chest and shoulders, and flipped on the clippers. The noise was ear piercing, and the blade felt hot against the back of his neck and scalp. In the mirror Gus watched as the clippers came up and over the top of his head and the barber shook a load of his dirty blond locks onto his chest and smiled wryly. After six or so passes, Gus’s hair was gone, buzzed down to a quarter of an inch. The process was both humiliating and degrading, but Gus tried to tell himself it was all part of making everyone the same. Gus remembered his grandfather’s words. Boy. They’ll make you look the same, act the same, eat the same, and be the same. They’re gonna break you down to one common denominator before they can start to make a man out of you.

The Cadre filled the rest of the day with grueling physical training, formation and marching drills, learning the proper way to iron your uniform, polish your shoes, make your bed, and how to live your life the Citadel way. By the time dinner was over and Gus reached his dorm room, he was physically and mentally exhausted. He’d been yelled at, pushed around, mortified, and debased, all in the course of one day. He climbed up, collapsed into his bunk, and fell instantly asleep.

When loud familiar voices filled the echoing hall, Gus sat straight up in his bunk. What the fuck! The sound of fists slamming against the walls was getting closer and closer. He looked at his watch and saw that it was ten thirty on the dot, but before the time could register in his brain, his dorm room door flew open and two Cadre stormed into his room. They began by pulling his ironed uniforms out of the closet, throwing them on the floor, and stomping on them. Next they emptied all of his drawers, his underwear and socks flying in every direction.

The Cadre marched back and forth in front of his bunk. “Get up, Knob! This place is a mess. What do you have to say for yourself?”

Gus gritted his teeth and gave the same answer he’d given previously, “No excuse, sir.”

“On the floor, Knob! Now! And. Give. Me. Twenty!”

Wearing only his briefs, Gus jumped down from his bunk, landed on the floor with a thud, and gave the Cadre twenty push-ups. When he was finished, he got to his feet and waited for his next set of instructions.

The Cadre got right in his face and hissed, “Now I want five laps around the courtyard.”

Gus looked down at his bare feet and glanced at his sneakers under his bed.

“Don’t even think about it, Knob. I gave you a direct order. Now! Move!”

Gus hit the door and took the steps three at a time again until he was in the courtyard and making his laps. There were other Knobs scurrying around everywhere, some naked, some half-dressed, and others somewhere in between. After his laps, he returned to his dorm room to the awaiting Cadre.

“You’re not done, Knob! Get your toothbrush and follow me.”

Again, Gus didn’t say anything but gathered his toothbrush and followed the Cadre out of the door. When the upperclassman turned left and crossed the hall, Gus knew what was coming next. The Cadre kicked the latrine door open and headed straight for a stall.

Are you fucking kidding me?

With a smirk, the Cadre simply pushed open the stall door and pointed to the grime, dried piss, and God only knows what else around the base of the toilet. For the first time since his arrival, Gus really wanted to knock that smirk off the Cadre’s face, but he knew that would only get him in more trouble. He dropped to his knees without a word and started scrubbing the toilet with his toothbrush. He scrubbed and scrubbed as the Cadre looked on. Eventually the upperclassman kicked the stall door. “That’s enough, Knob! Back to your room.”

By the time the raid was over, it was after midnight. Gus still had to get his room back in order, iron his uniform again, and make his bed. It was well after one thirty when he collapsed in his bunk for the second time in the same night.

[A1]FORMAT Text Break

[A2] Suggest “the building” to avoid repeating the name.Rreaders can infer he left the building he entered for the welcome.

[A3]To agree with the plural sounds