Book Title: Ship of Fools
Author: Sophia Soames
Publisher: Self-published
Cover Artist: Aurelia Morris
Release Date: November 30, 2020
Genre: Contemporary M/M Romance
Trope/s: Finding love, Family Christmas, instalove, Set in the UK
Themes: This story contains descriptions of sexual roleplay and consensual violence, and elements of mild BDSM.
Length: 50 000 words
It is a standalone story.
Buy Links – Available on Kindle Unlimited
Universal Link | Amazon US | Amazon UK
Blurb
Andreas Mitchell is single, stupid and bored, and should have a good long think about the amount of bad life choices he has made lately. Instead he heads straight for the one guy he knows will become his worst mistake yet.
Luca Germano makes no choices at all, instead he lives quietly in the background, and prefers the safety of his own hand to risking his heart. And someone as pretty and fearless as Andreas Mitchell, is the last person on earth he should let into his life.
Especially at Christmas.
This is a work of fantasy and fiction. This story contains descriptions of sexual roleplay and consensual violence, and elements of mild BDSM, which are not intended to be taken seriously, or imitate real life. Please read with caution if these
themes might trigger or upset you.
Find more stories from the fictional British town of Chistleworth, in Custard and Kisses (free to download from Prolific Works) and This thing with Charlie (part of the Winter Wonderland giveaway starting on Jan 1, 2021)
“So, have you got yourself a nice man yet?” Mum teases, as she swans into the kitchen in her dressing gown, her hair wrapped in a towel.
“Mum.” I warn.
“He’s got his eyes set on someone.” Dad gossips, because yeah. I tell my dad stuff, and then I regret it for the rest of my life. “He thinks the boss man up at Lambert and Gloss is the cutest thing ever.” Dad sniggers.
“Albert Lambert?” Mum howls.
“Nooo!” I shout, throwing a scrunched-up rag at my dad. I miss. Of course.
“What’s the other dude? Billy? Bob? B…?”
“Boris Gloss. He’s at least a hundred years old, Mum. Seriously guys,” I laugh.
“I thought Boris Gloss was dead.”
“He must be, haven’t seen him in years.”
“His wife died, I think he retired, did he retire? Don?”
“Boris Gloss was down the pub last week, so I doubt he’s dead.”
“Who burned the house down? Mum? What did you do this time?”
That’s Bea, my little sister. Or not-so-little sister. She’s nineteen, heavily pregnant with a boy child and we have no idea who the father is. Talk about scandalous and shameful. Well, not in our family. My mum cried tears of happiness when she found out Bea was up the duff, and Dad just laughed out loud when she told us she was quitting university and moving back home. Bea is amazing, she’s a free spirit like my mum, with Dad’s brain and my stubbornness, and in a way, it surprised nobody when she announced she was four-months pregnant and not having an abortion. She is also due on Christmas Eve, which of course is the butt of endless family jokes.
“How’s my baby Jesus?” Mum coos, and wraps herself around Bea, dressing gown and all.
“I’m not naming him Jesus, Mum.” Bea sighs, mouthing some choice words to me behind her back. I just giggle.
“But he will be a Christmas kid!” Mum declares. “What about Noel. I quite like that.”
“He needs a nice strong Italian name.” Dad booms, his hands covered in soapsuds.
“Something like Matteo, or Elia. Strong, good names. Nonna suggested Elio, I quite liked that too.”
“Dad, that’s from that film, the one with all the sex. The guy was called Elio, remember?”
“Has Nonna seen that?” Dad laughs to himself. It wouldn’t surprise me, my Italian Nonna watches everything. She has Netflix, Amazon Prime and some dodgy pirated SKY subscription as well, so she can catch up with all the English language films now she has moved back to Italy.
“Bea should decide, it’s her baby,” I say, earning myself a smile from my little sister. She’s bloomingly beautiful, despite her hair needing a wash, and the dark circles under her eyes.
“Okay, yes, true…” Dad mutters. “Can’t you just… if it’s still a boy, can’t you name it Don? I like the sound of that. Don Senior and Don Junior. I can teach him everything I know.”
That makes my mum burst into tears, another normal occurrence in our house. Someone says something soppy and ridiculous, and Mum cries. She may not be Italian by blood, but she’s definitely all-Italian Mama when she turns on the waterworks.
Our family. Always full of drama. My mum cried when I told her I was gay too. She kissed me and hugged me and told me I could be just as cool as Harry Styles. I’m still confused as to why I would be anything like Harry Styles, since last time I checked he was into older women, but then, Mum might be right. Or confused. Does it matter? Nope.
I knew I was gay once we started sex education at school. The girls got weird. The boys got even weirder. I just felt lost in the middle, until I watched two boys kissing on TV and sported an instant boner that just would not go down.
Being a weird kid, I asked my dad what to do. He told me to find myself a boyfriend, and live a happy life. That was about it. Apart from my mum’s obsession with Harry Styles. And weird TV shows. And trying to learn to cook. You get the picture.
“You got a boyfriend yet?” Bea laughs, as she kisses my cheek. She’s massive, her rounded tummy barely covered by one of Dad’s old shirts.
“You got one yourself?” I tease back.
“He’s got a crush.” Mum fills in, sitting herself down and wiping her eyes on a tea towel.
“Ohh!” Bea laughs, “Do tell, Luca. We need some good gossip. Well, did Mum tell you about Mrs Cavanaugh? “
“What about Mrs Cavanaugh?” I fill in quickly. Trying to change the subject, because there is nothing really to tell. What am I supposed to say? I think Andreas Mitchell is seriously hot, and he’s probably the most beautiful thing I have ever seen, and he’s funny and crazy and also drinks too much and shags anything that moves. From what I have seen, that is. He’s probably the least suitable guy for boyfriend material, and anyway, he is totally out of my league. A fantasy of imperfect perfection.
“Mrs Cavanaugh has a new lover, and Mr Cavanaugh is as clueless as always. It’s rather funny to watch, this new guy sits in his car until Mr Cavanaugh sets off for work, and as soon as he leaves, Mr Loverboy runs up to the back door. Anyway, Luca fancies that boy working at Lambert and Gloss.” Mum says, pouring herself a glass of water. “Not the old one, the young boy. I didn’t know he was gay.”
“The mechanic? Mike? He’s going out with Laura from the Co-op. Hardly gay. Probably not a good choice, Luca.”
“Bea…” I sigh.
Yes. Meet my family. None of them ever shut up. And they take a tiny piece of information and turn it into a docusoap. It’s constant, and to be honest? Exhausting.
“Not Mike, or James. I fancy the Sales Manager, he is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen and he’s also completely out of my league, so just leave me to nurse my impossible crush in peace, and then perhaps I will mend my broken heart and find myself a nice boyfriend.” My mouth says, pulling off the sarcasm with ease.
“Sales Manager. Fancy!” Mum says, and opens her laptop, sitting herself down with a sigh. “What’s his name and I will look him up on Facebook. We need to know if he is in a relationship.”
“Mum, nobody our age does Facebook.” I mutter, trying to figure out where to start drying the dangerously high stack of plates Dad has somehow managed to wash up.
“What’s his handle on Insta?” Bea now has her phone out and I stare at Dad. Begging.
“Good luck, son.” He laughs, placing his home-made aubergine bake into the oven, wafting another puff of smoke into the kitchen.
“What’s his name again?” Mum says, taking a sip of her water. “Barry Gloss?”
I tell you, my family. Gossipmongers all of them.
I sincerely hope you enjoy Ship of Fools, and if you did? Feel free to connect, or leave an honest review on Amazon or Goodreads. I look forwards to hearing from you!
Stay safe. All the love, always. Sophia x
Sophia Soames should be old enough to know better but has barely grown up. She has been known to fangirl over tv-shows, has fallen in and out of love with more popstars than she dares to remember, and has a ridiculously high-flying (un-) glamorous real-life job.
Her long-suffering husband just laughs at her antics. Their children are feral. The Au Pair just sighs.
She lives in a creaky old house in rural London, although her heart is still in Scandinavia.
Discovering that the stories in her head make sense when written down has been part of the most hilarious midlife crisis ever and she hopes it may long continue.
Find me on social media @sophiasoames on all platforms.
Aurelia Morris is a cover artist, photographer, photoshop wiz and eternal fangirl.
She works in many mediums under more aliases that she can keep track of.
Social Media Links
Facebook Group: Sophia Soames’ Little Harbour | Twitter | Instagram
Free short story: Custard and Kisses on Prolific Works
Find Charlie’s story in This Thing with Charlie, set in the same universe
as part of the Winter Wonderland Giveaway on Prolific Works, coming Jan. 1, 2021
Join Sophia Soames’ Little Harbour Facebook group
for a chance to win a signed paperback of Ship of Fools.
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