Title: Cutting Cords
Series: Cutting Cords Series, Book One
Author: Mickie B. Ashling
Publisher: Self-Published
Release Date: 6/2/20
Length: 63,525
Genre: Romance, Contemporary, bisexual, hurt-comfort, coming out, disability, cutting
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Synopsis
Sloan Driscoll is a talented graphic artist but compared to his father and younger brother—all star athletes—he’s never measured up. A lifetime of insecurity leads him down dark paths.
His childhood friend, Cole Fujiwara, a former major league pitcher, embodies all of Sloan’s hidden aspirations. Cole is physically fit, attractive, intelligent, and successful. Seemingly perfect.
When Sloan shows up on Cole’s NYC doorstep needing a place to stay, their reunion is anything but simple. Sloan has always been drawn to Cole, but now, even though there’s a girlfriend on the periphery, the attraction seems mutual.
One night, inhibitions slip away. But both men are hiding a multitude of secrets. Salvation could be found within each other’s arms. But only if they let it.
Cutting Cords is the first book in the Cutting Cords Series previously published by Dreamspinner Press. This series must be read in order and all four titles will be available by September 2020. HEA guaranteed at series end.
Content Warning: contains body image issues, drug use, cutting, and some BDSM elements.
I’d like to thank Dani for giving me the opportunity to share an exclusive excerpt of Cutting Cords on Love Bytes Reviews. This novel was originally published in November, 2009. At the time, I thought it would be a standalone, but my muse had other ideas. It turned into a four-book series published over several years. The second edition offers a gorgeous new cover designed by Catt Ford along with extensive edits for a more enjoyable reading experience. New readers won’t have to wait too long for the next book as I plan to publish one a month until they are back out in the world where they belong. The entire series will be available in Kindle Unlimited for the first time.
Cutting Cords
Mickie B. Ashling © 2020
All Rights Reserved
I could hear the drone of voices and assumed Emily and Cole were chatting in the kitchen. Naked and huddled under my blanket, I didn’t pick up any content, too freaked out over what had just transpired.
I’d lost it earlier when Emily recounted her conversation with the girlfriend. Cole had done the unthinkable and proposed marriage. What in hell was he thinking when he had so many unresolved issues, primarily me.
How could he? I’d bet my last bag of weed and my entire Queen collection on his questionable orientation. Fucking coward. He’d rather slink back into the closet than stand up to his father and live his most authentic life.
But that bombshell wasn’t what had scared the life out of me. Nor was it the blade I’d reached for in a desperate moment. I was in the middle of a cutting session with snot running out of my nose and tears rolling down my cheeks when he walked into the bathroom. I was sitting in the tub, in plain fucking sight, blood seeping out of the multiple gashes on my thighs, and Cole acted like I wasn’t even there.
He took a piss and then went to brush his teeth while I watched the crimson rivulets trickle down my thighs and pool in the white porcelain bathtub. Why didn’t he react? I wasn’t invisible. Maybe I was still drunk and not processing. Was I in the middle of a bad dream?
Or had I imagined all of it. My evening with Max, including the kinky sex, couldn’t have been real. But there were two leather-bound books on my desk—BDSM-for-dummies—that were tangible proof it was legit and not some drug-induced fantasy.
So why the fuck didn’t Cole see me? Was he too self-absorbed to care? Surely he would have bitched about the mess if nothing else. The man was a stickler for neatness and I was sitting in a puddle of my own blood. Realistically, Cole should have screamed like a banshee and called me every name under the sun. Sick fuck would have hurt, coming out of his mouth, but it would have been appropriate.
I’d had an amazing day yesterday, riding high on the success of the photo shoot, and a magical night, with a famous man who was happy to grovel at my feet. Yet, I’d ended up back in the same insecure hole I’d just climbed out of. Desperately unhappy because the man I was obsessed with didn’t want me. Once again, I had taken one step forward and two back.
It was time I faced the truth. Cole didn’t give a shit if I lived or died. I was nothing but a means of release, a live fuck doll. He wasn’t going to waste one minute of his energy on my sorry ass even if he had enjoyed plowing into it the other night.
I pulled open the drawer of my nightstand. Thankfully, the bag of Xanax was still there, and I dry swallowed two pills, knowing they’d knock me for a loop. I didn’t give a shit. I had every intention of spending the rest of my day in a drugged-out haze.
Emily stuck her head in the door. “Are you decent?”
“I will be in a minute. Give me five, okay?”
“Sure thing.”
She shut the door, and I got out of bed reluctantly. I’d forgotten about her. She was leaving today, and I had to take her to Grand Central so she could catch her train. What the fuck…. How was I going to manage it, higher than a kite?
I stumbled into the bathroom, locked the door, and stuck two fingers down my throat. The pills came up quickly; they hadn’t even dissolved yet, thank goodness. Barfing wasn’t one of my favorite things, but I couldn’t let Emily wander around looking for her train. I could always take more pills when I got back.
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MICKIE B. ASHLING is the pseudonym of a multi-published author who resides in a suburb outside Chicago. She is a product of her upbringing in various cultures, having lived in Japan, the Philippines, Spain, and the Middle East. Fluent in three languages, she’s a citizen of the world and an interesting mixture of East and West.
Since 2009, Mickie has written several dozen novels in the LGBTQ+ genre—which have been translated into French, Italian, Spanish, and German. Lately, her muse has been nudging her in a different direction, and she’s learned through past experience to pay attention to creative sparks that show up unexpectedly. Her pen name is a part of her now, and will travel along on this exciting new journey, wherever it might lead.
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