Title: Undercover in Paradise
Series: Paradise, Book Two
Author: John Patrick
Publisher: NineStar Press
Release Date: 01/25/2022
Length: 72000
Genre: Science Fiction, LGBTQIA+, New adult, MM romance, humorous, postapocalypse, transgender, religious order, anxiety, dark, blackmail, undercover DEA agent
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Description
DEA Agent Hector Ramirez is on his first undercover mission. He’s been sent to a Buddhist monastery deep in the woods of Maine, where he’s investigating a confusing web of connections between a Peruvian drug gang, a prominent Mormon family and the monastery’s leaders.
Dallin Rigby, the young son of a prominent Mormon family, has been sent on a year-long retreat while the scandal associated with his mission to Peru dies down. The men, the sex, the blackmail tape—there’s a lot to get past. He’s not looking forward to a year in the middle of nowhere, but the presence of the attractive Brother Hector might make his time in exile more bearable.
No one at the isolated monastery is aware of the disaster unfolding outside its walls, as a man-made virus sweeps the globe, killing nearly everyone. Cut off from his contacts, and with dwindling supplies, Hector sets out with Dallin to learn what has happened. As the attraction between the two men grows, Hector begins to question the necessity of remaining undercover. But is it too late for him to finally be honest with Dallin, about his job and about himself?
The next day, I made an emergency appointment to see my doctor.
While waiting to meet with her, I checked out several books on beekeeping from the Boston Public Library. Surprisingly, there were plenty to choose from. Evidently urban beekeeping was a thing. And there was a lot to learn. I could only hope I’d be in and out before any real tending to the bees became necessary. The good news was the program would start in January, so the bees should be tightly clustered in their hives, requiring no input from me.
The bad news was the program starts in January—in northern Maine.
“You can’t do this, Hector,” Dr. Zhang said to me later that afternoon. I was sitting on the examination table in my boxer shorts. “It’s not worth the risk. You’ve been responding so well to the testosterone shots. We can’t keep those up if you’re in the middle of nowhere.”
I knew that. And our treatment program was working. I had to shave every day, and I had bigger pecs than half of the other male agents. I was ready for the bottom surgery, as soon as I could afford it.
“Aren’t there pills you could give me? Just to get me through this assignment?”
“No, not in this country anyway. And they can cause serious damage to the liver, so don’t even think about getting them on the black market.” She paused, letting that sink in. “Hector, just tell them you can’t do it. They know about you, right? You have a valid medical reason why you shouldn’t go on this assignment.”
“They know about me, yes. But I don’t want them to have to think about me, if you know what I mean.” I searched her face to see if she understood what I was saying. “Like, I don’t think they know about the hormone therapy, how many shots I take, the surgery I’ve had, the surgeries coming up. I don’t want them to think about me that way.”
She frowned, but I could tell she understood what I was saying.
“I just want them to see me as a normal guy. Not as someone who needs special treatment.”
“Men,” she muttered. “You’re all the same.”
She swiveled her chair around and tapped away at the keyboard for a few minutes, studying the screen.
“Okay. There’re a few things we can consider. Although I can’t stress how strongly I urge against this.” It was her turn to search my face, to see if I might give at all. I wouldn’t.
“All right, let’s see how things are progressing down below.” She stood and walked toward the door. “Lose the shorts and put the gown on. I’ll be back in a second, I’ll finish my exam, and then we’ll discuss our options.”
***
In the end, we reached an agreement.
I would come back in two days to be injected with subcutaneous testosterone pellets that would carry me for three months. I promised if there were any side effects, I would find a way to get back here in person for an assessment. “I don’t care if you have to fake a heart attack,” she’d said. “Promise me you’ll do it.”
I did promise. We had a strong relationship built on years of trust. I meant it when I made that promise.
The second part was harder for her. “It’s unethical for me to give you nine months of these,” she said, handing over a package of pills. “I’m only doing it because you’re stubborn, and I suspect you’d acquire questionable testosterone pills illegally and risk your health even more.” She stared at me and I nodded, acknowledging the gravity of what she was saying. “These are not the pills you can get in Canada and Europe, the ones that can damage your liver. These are known as buccal pills—they stick on your gum, above your incisor, and release medication over time, bypassing the liver entirely. But you really shouldn’t start taking them without strict supervision. You understand we are both taking a huge risk here?”
I did. I promised I’d be careful. Besides, I was sure to be home before the injection wore off in three months anyway. If I’d known that would be the last time I’d ever see Dr. Zhang, I would have thanked her for all of her support and encouragement over the years. But, of course, I didn’t know that; none of us did.
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John Patrick lives in the Berkshire Hills of Massachusetts, where he is supported in his writing by his husband and their terrier, who is convinced he could do battle with the bears that come through the woods on occasion (the terrier, that is, not the husband).
John is an introvert and can often be found doing introverted things like reading or writing, cooking, and thinking deep, contemplative thoughts (his husband might call this napping). He loves to spend time in nature—“forest bathing” is the Japanese term for it—feeling connected with the universe. But he also loathes heat and humidity, bugs of any sort, and unsteady footing in the form of rocks, mud, tree roots, snow, or ice. So, his love of nature is tempered; he’s complicated that way.
John and his husband enjoy traveling and have visited over a dozen countries, meeting new people, exploring new cultures, and—most importantly—discovering new foods. After such travels, John invariably comes down with a cold. During a trip to Japan in 2019, he was amazed by how many people wore surgical masks in public to protect both themselves and others from viruses. “Gosh,” John thought, “wouldn’t it be great if we’d do this in the US?” John sometimes regrets the wishes he makes.
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