One cranky man-child. One snooty artist recluse. Total trouble.
The Infinite Onion by Alice Archer
Publisher: Shine Even If
Release Date: March 31, 2020
Length (Print & Ebook): Print: 388 pages
Subgenre: Contemporary gay romance
Book synopsis:
The truth is harder to hide when someone sharp starts poking around.
Grant Eastbrook hit the ground crawling after his wife kicked him out. Six months later, in Seattle without a job or a place to live, he escapes to the woods of nearby Vashon Island to consider his options. When he’s found sleeping outdoors by a cheerful man who seems bent on irritating him to death, Grant’s plans to resuscitate his life take a peculiar turn.
Oliver Rossi knows how to keep his fears at bay. He’s had years of practice. As a local eccentric and artist, he works from his funky home in the deep woods, where he thinks he has everything he needs. Then he rescues an angry man from a rainy ditch and discovers a present worth fighting the past for.
Amid the buzz of high summer, unwelcome attraction blooms on a playing field of barbs, defenses, and secrets.
Buy Link:
GRANT
My new hobby had paid off.
He reached into the outbuilding and pulled out a leather tool belt—by feel, apparently, since he found it without looking. It wasn’t until he bent his head to buckle it on that I registered what he was wearing. Denim overalls. Black work boots. Christ on a crutch, the man was beautiful no matter what he wore. I had a stellar view of lean shoulders and arm muscles as they bunched and shifted under the tight T-shirt. I swallowed hard and adjusted the focus on the binoculars.
I’d only ever seen Oliver in the gray of a rainy day or by lamplight inside his house. In bright morning sunshine, Oliver glittered. The high gloss of his burnished hair slayed me. Escaped strands from the fat topknot curved around the classic features of his face. I sent out a wish that he would let his hair down, but he didn’t. He swiped at the loose strands to tuck them behind his ears. They came free again when he bent to pick up a couple of mallets.
At some point, I took a belated breath and asked myself what the hell I thought I was doing. My spying was indefensible. I knew that. But when Oliver walked away from me, I slunk to the edge of the van to prepare for a dash to the cover of the house so I could shadow him.
My new hobby almost came to an abrupt halt.
Oliver dropped the mallets and spun toward me.
I jerked back behind the van. My unprincipled heart banged inside my chest.
He didn’t seem to have seen me. He passed the carport and continued down the driveway.
I stayed put, focusing the binoculars on Oliver’s graceful lope and the fit of his overalls. He hadn’t gone for one-size-bigger comfort. His delectable ass under the heavy tool belt made me wonder if he’d found a Vashon tailor who specialized in bespoke overalls. Various chisels hung from loops in his tool belt. They swayed and tapped each other as he walked.
Quite a while later—it was a long driveway—Oliver loped back and headed straight for the mallets. It wouldn’t have surprised me to discover he had access to a rock quarry and was off to free a block of granite to start a new sculpture.
I followed and berated myself and continued to watch.
By the time Oliver was in full swing at the tall tree stump—earbuds in, tools in motion—I no longer cared if I was a bad man who spied. My new hobby had become a vice.
It was a full ten minutes before I tore my gaze from Oliver’s body to take a look at what he was working on. A high stump had been shaped into a chair. The upper part of the stump remained as a roof over the hollowed-out seat.
I stole through the underbrush to get a better view of the back of the stump where Oliver worked. From a perch on a low rock behind a rhododendron, I focused the binoculars on what Oliver had carved. The hairs on my arms stood up. Jesus. Elaborate designs of vines, birds, and animals spread over the wood.
What in God’s name was Oliver doing living on Vashon? He belonged in New York City, or in Italy, fending off paparazzi and knocking the glitterati on their asses. I couldn’t believe my own eyes. As I watched, Oliver’s confident movements with the chisel and mallet transformed a flat expanse of wood into a squirrel so alive I swear its tail twitched.
When Oliver set down the tools to strip off his T-shirt, I almost passed out from enthralled overstimulation, from the sight of Oliver’s bare shoulders and arms, rendered in pure marble by a master sculptor.
I lowered the binoculars to hyperventilate, couldn’t bear to miss the show, raised them again.
Alice has questions. Lots of questions. Scheming to put fictional characters through the muck so they can get to a better place helps her heal and find answers. She shares her stories with the hope that others might find some healing too. For decades, Alice has messed about with words professionally, as an editor and writing coach. She also travels a bunch. Her home base is Eugene, Oregon.
Connect with Alice:
Website: www.alicearcher.com
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Join us to celebrate the release of THE INFINITE ONION by Alice Archer with this special giveaway. 3 prizes: 1 e-copy of critically acclaimed EVERYDAY HISTORY; 1 e-copy of THE INFINITE ONION; 1 grand prize of a paperback copy of THE INFINITE ONION.
Must be 18 to enter and win. Physical prizes mailed only with the USA; international winners will receive e-copy.
The Infinite Onion: Nothing heats up a summer like an unwanted guest.
