Book Title: The Locket’s Tale
Author and Publisher: RJ Peterson
Cover Artist: Ron Perry Graphic Design
Release Date: February 21, 2024
Genre: Contemporary M/M Romance
Tropes: Older guys, small town
Themes: Just a hint of magic
Heat Rating: 3.5 flames (there are only a couple of sex scenes, but they are quite detailed)
Length: 22 600 words
It is a standalone story and does not end on a cliffhanger.
Buy Links – Available in Kindle Unlimited
Sometimes love is just lying there, waiting to be found.
Blurb
When Miles Wickford happens upon a locket one day during his morning walk, little did he realize how his life would change.
Elias Grafton is frantic when his beloved locket is taken from his antique shop. He fears it may be lost forever.
Miles is intrigued by the power the locket possesses but can’t in good conscience keep what doesn’t belong to him. Although it can’t hurt to try it once or twice, can it?
A locket brings these two men together. And fate, or the locket’s magic, leads to so much more.
Sometimes love is just lying there, waiting to be found.
A Locket’s Tale is a small town MM romance featuring older guys, a lost locket, and just a hint of magic.
Removing my reading glasses, I pinched the bridge of my nose. Nothing. Interesting reading for sure, but there was nothing that helped me figure out how I could locate the pendant again.
From what Pa wrote, the locket had been in the family for a few generations by the time Josiah had received it from his father. Josiah’s grandmother Eustace had received it from her mother before passing it along. Prior to that, things were a bit hazy. It was rumored that James Marston, captain of the clipper ship Sea Maiden, sailing from the port of Gloucester, Massachusetts, had returned with it and presented it to his wife, Matilda—who would have been Josiah’s great-great-grandmother—but how the captain had come upon it was not truly known. Stories—I assumed they were all rumors at best—mentioned him winning or perhaps stealing it from someone on an unknown Caribbean island, but again, nothing Pa wrote could prove the truth or falsehood of any of those tales.
Ah, well, nothing really helpful there. Leaving the book on my desk, I returned to the front of the store to see how Mae was doing. I guess I’ll need to leave this in the hands of fate.
* * *
The next few days passed with no news on the locket. Autumn was a busy time in the store. While our little town wasn’t as well-known as Salem, Bangor, or Boston, we still managed to attract a steady supply of tourists passing through to admire the vibrant splendor of colorful foliage in New England.
Business was brisk, leaving little time for me to ponder the fate of my beloved trinket. When I did think about it, usually at night after dinner, I contemplated whether or not I should place an ad in the newspaper, but every time I sat and tried to decide on exactly what to say, I thought of Cousin Reggie, and my blood turned cold. I was sure my grandfather had a very good reason for passing the locket on to me and not Reg—Pa rarely spoke of Reggie or his dad, except in the negative—so I’d do anything in my power to prevent Reggie from learning anything about it, or God forbid, actually acquiring the locket.
In any event, Mavis kept checking the lost-and-found ads, but never had anything good to report until …
On Friday morning, I was just about to head down to the shop when I heard the distinct ring of the bell above the door.
“Is that you, Mae?” I called down.
“Yes, Eli. Come down here, please. I may have found something!” She sounded quite excited.
Hurrying down the stairs, I said, “What is it?”
“An ad!” she practically yelled. “I found it this morning. All it says is ‘a piece of jewelry,’ doesn’t say much more. There’s a number to call.” She thrust a slip of paper in my direction.
My heart beat wildly in my chest. Was this it? Had my prayers been answered? I snatched at the page and read the number. Pulling my phone from my pocket, I started to dial, then paused. If this was a cell number I was calling, the person on the other end would have my number, and I wasn’t sure if I wanted that. Maybe I was just being paranoid about Cousin Reggie, but better safe than sorry.
Pocketing my phone, I walked to the front counter, where I picked up the shop’s landline and dialed.
R.J. Peterson is a retired graphic designer. An avid reader—preferably while sipping a vodka martini or bourbon on the rocks—he’s had a long and varied career, including library page, car wash attendant, travel agent, and graphic designer in the marijuana industry. In addition, he worked in the banking industry for twenty-five years. He loves to travel and has been on 55+ cruises. When not on a cruise, he and his husband live in New England.
He never planned to be a writer, but a fateful day in January, 2021 changed it all. He woke with a story stuck in his head and started typing. The more he types, the more ideas he gets.
Social Media Links
Blog/Website | Facebook Group | Newsletter Sign-up | Linktree
