Sun, Sea and Spotted Squid by Kristian Parker
General Release Date: 13th July 2021
Word Count: 33,523
Book Length: SHORT NOVEL
Pages: 145
Genres:
CONTEMPORARY,EROTIC ROMANCE,GAY,GLBTQI
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Book Description
Sam came to Spain for a summer with squid—but found a Wolfgang…
University graduate Sam is looking forward to a summer internship at Valencia’s world-famous Oceanogràfic Aquarium, but it’s fellow intern and flatmate Wolf who captures his interest.
Tall, handsome redhead Wolfgang is also aloof, and Sam burns to know what makes him tick. Being paired with him on a project has Sam imagining them spending their days out on the ocean in the aquarium’s boat, but Wolfgang only has eyes for the rare spotted squid they’re assigned to study. Charming.
But Sam won’t take second place to a cephalopod mollusc, even one with spots. He sets his sights on cracking Wolfgang’s shell…only to discover the sexy German is so far in the closet that his address could be Narnia House, Narnia Street, Narnia.
Can Sam help Wolfgang find the strength to be true to himself and his desires, or will their relationship be like the squid they’re seeking and plummet to the depths of the seabed when summer’s over?
The narrow pavements out on the street meant we had to split up. Genevieve and Paul strode off and were pointing things out to each other in the shop windows that lined the tiny side street our rooms were on. They obviously didn’t like being out of each other’s sight.
That left me with Astrid on one side and Maria on the other.
“What a lucky man to have two gorgeous women on his arm,” said Astrid, nudging me. “The blonde Swedish beauty on one side.”
“And the dark Italian goddess on the other.” Maria laughed.
“So, Sam Davis, do you prefer blonde girls or dark-haired girls?” said Astrid.
Ah, the inevitable question. It had come earlier than I’d expected. It’s true what they say. You never stop coming out of the closet.
“I don’t really mind about hair colour so long as they have stunning eyes, are taller than me and have a good bit of stubble.”
“Told you,” said Maria to Astrid, taking my arm.
“Told her what?”
“She bet me five euros you were gay,” said Astrid, running in front of us and putting a hand up. “But wait, he might be bi.”
Talk about being upfront and personal.
“In the interest of five euros, I can confirm that I’m gay,” I said. “And very hungry. Come on.”
“Ah well, you can’t blame a girl for hoping for evens.” Astrid sighed.
We carried on towards the busier street where Genevieve and Paul were waiting for us. A handsome young man stood outside a butcher’s with a tray of cooked meat samples. We all grabbed one. My stomach had been growling for the past hour.
“Nice meat,” said Astrid, winking at him.
He returned the wink.
“Are you here to find a Spanish lover for the summer, Sam Davis?” asked Maria.
“Who knows? Perhaps two,” I quipped.
“I am,” announced Astrid.
She proceeded to tell us all about her broken engagement and how she’d taken this opportunity to focus on healing and figuring out what her life had in store for her. Maria didn’t have a broken engagement, but she obviously saw herself as Astrid’s wingwoman. These two would keep us on our toes. I mentally thanked everything holy we weren’t room neighbours.
* * * *
The restaurant looked a bit of a dump.
“Is this it?” Astrid peered in.
“Not Instagrammable enough for you?” I asked. She stuck out her tongue in reply.
Genevieve grabbed Paul’s hand protectively.
“Anyone who knows anything about food knows it’s not about the place but about the plate,” said Paul with a sniff.
They walked inside, leaving me, Astrid and Maria looking a little aghast.
“Whoops,” said Astrid as we followed them in.
It didn’t take long for the atmosphere to disappear. Astrid had some wonderful stories and Paul soon perked up. I had sat opposite him and the red wine he chose slipped down smoothly.
“Are you going for the tourist paella or the Valencian paella, Sam?” he asked.
It felt like a challenge. “Why don’t we share one?” I said. “You can choose.”
I think that impressed him—he ordered the Valencian paella. The waiter fussed around our table, particularly Astrid, and soon delivered a sizzling pan of rice, chicken, rabbit, snails and vegetables to us. The smell made my mouth water. I couldn’t wait to dive in.
“Oh, were you hoping to have some of this?” I said to Paul with a wink.
“Let battle commence,” he replied.
If I hadn’t felt like my overseas adventure had started before, I certainly did by the time we had finished. Not a morsel remained and my stomach felt fit to burst. I liked everyone around the table and couldn’t have picked better people to spend the summer with. Once I got past the wall that couples inevitably throw up, Genevieve and Paul were good fun. Genevieve came across as very kind and interested in what people had to say. Paul managed to match me for funny anecdotes. That would work for me.
On the way back to our rooms, we called in at a bar. This time Astrid chose the venue and the clientele seemed very social media friendly—“Selfie!” I called, posting it immediately. I raised my beer. “Here’s to a summer of fun. Five musketeers ready to take on Valencia.”
We clinked glasses.
“Six musketeers,” Genevieve reminded me.
I had forgotten about our missing person. Astrid had said he would be arriving in the early evening. I glanced at my watch. It had gone seven. “Perhaps we should get back so we can welcome him,” I suggested.
“Oh yes, want to get first dibs on him?” Astrid laughed.
“Hardly.”
Unlike her, I hadn’t come to find romance. In fact, I couldn’t think of anything worse than bringing a guy back to those revolting rooms and trying to have my wicked way with him. I hadn’t even done that in my halls of residence. Well, not very much anyway.
My idea to form a welcome party failed spectacularly due to our inability to walk past the door of any bar that lay on our path home without calling in. By the time we staggered up the little shopping street that we now lived on, we were all feeling no pain.
Astrid held court as we walked, telling us all about an experience with a ski instructor and a cowbell. This woman had certainly lived a life.
We staggered down the hallway, me practically holding Maria up. Those last shots had probably been a bad idea.
“I need some water,” she moaned.
We took her into the kitchen and I saw things in the sink. A bag with some groceries still in it sat on the table.
“He must be here,” slurred Maria.
“What time is it?” whispered Paul loudly.
I glanced at my watch. “It’s ten.”
“Perhaps he’s in bed?” said Genevieve. “Which is where we should be.” Exchanging unsubtle winks with each other, they staggered off to their room with a guttural laugh.
“Couples, eh?” I said to Astrid and Maria.
“We should hit the hay too,” said Astrid. “We want to be bright-eyed and bushy-tailed tomorrow.”
I pushed a very floppy Maria into Astrid’s waiting arms and clumsily gave her a kiss on the cheek.
“Night, love. Fab evening.”
She winked. “First of many.”
I negotiated the criminally steep winding staircase and found myself on the darkened landing. Leaning against the wall for support, I had no idea which door I should go through. My mind a total blank, I tried listening at each one, but everything lay quiet. Shrugging, I pushed open a door at random. Even in the almost total darkness, it seemed to be my room. I knew I would never find the light switch.
Unsteadily, I stripped down to my boxer shorts. I just wanted to fall into bed. It had been a long day and I needed sleep. I tottered over to the bed, pulled back the cover and slumped in. Then all hell broke loose and a body in the bed leapt out.
“Was der Fick machst du?”
He flicked the light on, blinding me, and I covered my face with the blanket.
“I said, what the fuck are you doing?”
Oh God, I had the wrong room.
I braved a peep from underneath the blanket.
A stunningly attractive yet incredibly irate man stood over the bed. He had closely cropped strawberry-blond hair but had accentuated it with stubble which spread across his perfect face. I didn’t think complimenting him on his looks would help at this point.
“I’m Sam Davis,” I managed, then instantly realised how utterly ridiculous I must sound.
“I don’t care if you’re the king of bloody England. Why are you trying to get into bed with me?”
I slowly got out of bed. The room started spinning and I felt decidedly ill.
“I…uh…I think I’m going to be sick.”
He moved so quickly that I didn’t know what had happened. Grabbing me by the scruff of the neck, he threw me out onto the landing before slamming the door behind me.
“But…my clothes?” I asked.
The need to be sick rose in me again and I fell headlong into my room.
I couldn’t have had a more dramatic first night if I had tried.
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Kristian Parker
I have written for as long as I could write. In fact, before, when I would dictate to my auntie. I love to read, and I love to create worlds and characters.
I live in the English countryside. When I’m not writing, I like to get out there and think through the next scenario I’m going to throw my characters into.
Inspiration can be found anywhere, on a train, in a restaurant or in an office. I am always in search of the next character to find love in one of my stories. In a world of apps and online dating, it is important to remember love can be found when you least expect it.
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