Child of Joy

Child of Joy

Excerpt from Andrew Grey's new novel. This is a special excerpt and different from the excerpt on the publisher's web site.

“I love this time of year.— All the flowers are blooming and everything is so green and fresh.” Arthur followed Vauk as he blazed a path through the back areas of the property, stopping occasionally to examine a patch of while trillium, or in the low areas, yellow cowslips.
Vauk stopped and turned around. “You’re just happy that school’s over and you’ve only got your clinical to finish.”
“Well, I am relieved that my training is almost over, but I have to admit that I miss Tate. We’ve spent so much time together and gotten so close. It’s hard not having him around.” They wove their way around some particularly dense undergrowth.
“How’s he doing? He really seemed to have a good time at the Bbacchanal last month.”
“That’s an understatement.” Arthur stopped and started to laugh. “On our way home, he actually asked me how he went about finding a satyr to love. I think you made a particular impression.”
“Me? He liked me?” Vauk stopped looking around and stared at Arthur.
“Yeah., Tate really likes big men, and you’re the biggest person he’s ever met. I think that he’d make a play for you if you didn’t have Trent. He found you absolutely fascinating.”
Vauk shook his head as iflike he was finding that hard to believe. “So he wants to find a satyr of his own.” Arthur nodded and chuckled softly. “That’s pretty wonderful, you know. Many of us spend most of our lives alone.”
“I thought it was pretty wonderful too.” They started walking again, going farther from the farm. “Have you been here before?” Arthur was sure he’d never been to this part of the property.
“I was here a long time ago, before I met Trent.” Vauk changed direction and began weaving around some briars. “I missed you at the May Bbacchanal; we all did.”
“I missed everyone too. I just couldn’t get away. It was too close to finals, but Tate and I closed our door and thought of everyone. We even raised a glass of Cembran’s beer between hours of studying.” Arthur kept smiling as he thought about how supportive his friend had been ever since he’d told him he was a satyr.
Vauk stopped moving and signaled to Arthur to stop. “Did you hear that?” Arthur shook his head and listened intently. “There it is again.” Vauk’s whisper was barely audible as he cocked his head to hear it better. “It’s coming from over there.” Vauk pointed in the direction of a small creek. “Sounds like someone walking through the woods. Stay behind me and be careful. It may be nothing.”
The noise came again and this time Arthur heard it too: footsteps, sticks breaking, and what sounded like a voice, but the words were too far away. Slowly, they moved forward toward the source of the noise. The undergrowth was particularly dense and Arthur wondered as they moved forward how anyone could get to this portion of the property, or why anyone would bother.
Vauk stopped and motioned for Arthur to stop. Slowly he moved forward and pushed aside a tangle of branches and peered through the opening.
A young man, and from what Arthur could see, a rather handsome one at that, had slipped down the creek bank and was trying to climb back up, muttering as he struggled. “Stupid things. How can anyone use them anyway? Never get used to the clumsy things.” He tried again to climb up the bank, but only managed to slip down again, nearly ending up in the water. But to his credit he tried again, grumbling continually to himself. “Rotten moss! These things are nearly useless.”
Arthur put his hand over his mouth to keep from laughing as the young man slipped back down yet again. Then, as the young man struggled yet again, Arthur stepped into the clearing. “What things are useless?”
The young man gave a small yelp, stumbled again, and began to slide back down the bank.—o Only this time, instead of grumbling, Arthur heard a splash at the end. The young man was sitting at the bottom of the bank, his butt in the water, looking up at him. “Wh- … wh- … who are you?”
Arthur felt Vauk bump him as the big satyr stood beside him. “The important thing, young man, is who are you?” The young man squeaked again, his eyes widening as he stared at a very fierce- looking Vauk.
“I … I ….” The young man’s voice was high and cracked a few times as he stammered., “I’m Gaelen.”
“I’m Arthur, and this is Vauk.” ArthurHe stepped forward and slowly climbed down the bank. “Let me help you up.” Arthur extended his hand but Gaelen didn’t move.
“I’m wet.” His eyes widened with in unexpected surprise.”
“Of course you’re wet. Your butt is in the water. Come on;, give me your hand and I’ll help you up.” Gaelen finally raised his hand and Arthur pulled him up onto what appeared to be unsteady legs. “Are you hurt?”
Gaelen shook his head and Arthur’s attention faltered slightly as he looked into those huge blue eyes. “No, I’m just wet.”
“Well, that’s good anyway. From the way you were struggling to get up that small bank, I thought you might have been hurt.” Arthur climbed the bank and extended his hand again, steadying Gaelen as he climbed up behind him. The stranger almost fell again, but Arthur steadied him. “Now that you’re out of the water, can you tell me what you’re doing here?”
Arthur watched as Gaelen’s gaze alternated between him and Vauk before settling on him. “I got lost and couldn’t find my way out of the woods. I wasn’t watching where I was going and fell.” Suddenly his tone changed and became more defensive. “I’d have gotten out on my own.”
Arthur couldn’t help himself. “Maybe. After all, from what we saw, you were doing a great job on your own.”
The young man glared at Arthur. “We’ll, if you just got —…” He cut himself off and began to back away, almost tumbling back down into the creek again.
Arthur reached out to steady him. This had to be one of the clumsiest people Arthur had ever met. “We’re not going to hurt you.” Gaelen still seemed unsteady on his feet, so he held the man’s arm to steady him, and then turned to Vauk. “We need to get him out of here and back to the farm, so he can get home.”
Vauk wasn’t paying attention, but appeared to be listening intently. “Can you take him back? I think I hear something in trouble.”
“Are you sure you should go alone?”
“I think it’s a deer that got caught.” Arthur knew Vauk had exceptional hearing. The big satyr could always hear if a creature were in trouble, even deep in the forest. as clear as anything.
“We’ll meet you back at the farmhouse.” Vauk didn’t answer; his attention was elsewhere as he took off through the underbrush almost as though it didn’t exist. “Come on, Gaelen., I’ll lead you out of the woods.” Arthur began to move, but Gaelen stayed where he was. When Arthur turned around, Gaelen looked like he was trying to decide what to do. “I won’t hurt you—I promise. Besides, we need to get you in to some dry clothes so you don’t catch cold.” He seemed to make up his mind and slowly stepped toward Arthur, but stumbled after a few steps and caught himself before falling. “You are really are clumsy, aren’t you?” Arthur found it kind of cute.
“Yes, I guess so.” He stumbled again and looked to see what caused it. There was nothing there but moss.
“Come on. Hold my hand and I’ll lead you out.” Gaelen reluctantly took the offered hand and they began to slowly weave their way through the trees.
With Arthur to steady him, Gaelen’s clumsiness seemed to abate, but that didn’t keep him from stopping to admire the various flowers they encountered along the way. Arthur watched as Gaelen bent, touched, and sniffed each type of flower, caressing the petals gently with his fingers before moving on to the next. Finally, after what seemed like an hour, they emerged from the trees and into the May afternoon sunshine.
Gaelen clapped his hands with what appeared to be delight. “You have a damhnait?”
Arthur looked at him funny. “You mean the deer? That’s Mika.”
Seeing the fence, Gaelen’s eyes became hard—sort of fierce. “What is she doing here? She should be in the woods, running free, not in a cage.”
Arthur stepped away, unsure what would cause such a serious reaction. “Not that it’s your business. Her mother was killed when she was young. We rescued her, but she got too used to humans to be released. So we take care of her.” Arthur saw the look in Gaelen’s eyes lessen slightly. He could understand Gaelen’s reaction. After all, he reacted the same way if he thought an animal was being harmed or mistreated.
“You mean like a pet?” The word pet was said with such loathing.
“No., h Here, she’s loved.” As if she knew they were talking about her, Mika turned and looked at them, watching intently. Arthur moved close to the fence. “Come here, girl.” Mika walked over and put her nose to the fence, nuzzling Gaelen’s fingers. Arthur couldn’t believe it. Mika never approached strangers right away. “The gate’s down here.” He led them to the gate, with Mika following them on the other side of the fence.
Arthur opened the gate and ushered Gaelen inside, closing the gate behind them. Mika walked right up to Gaelen, nuzzling his hand and rubbing against him. She then ambled over and greeted Arthur, rubbing against him as well. “How’s my girl?” After getting some attention, she nuzzled him gently and then walked toward the corner of the enclosure to her food bowl. “We should get you some dry clothes.”
“Thank you., t These are starting to feel funny.”
“I bet they are. Come on;, you can borrow some of mine.” Arthur led Gaelen out of the pen and down the path toward the house.
Inside, the house was quiet. and Arthur led Gaelen to the room he was using. “Here’s a pair of jeans and a shirt. They may be a little big for you, but at least they’ll be dry.”
“Thanks.” Gaelen took the clothes and, before Arthur could leave, he opened his wet pants and pulled off his shirt, standing naked in the bedroom., naked. Arthur tried not to be surprised, but he couldn’t help it. He also couldn’t help looking at the perfect round butt and creamy white skin. Then he remembered his manners and got up, quietly leaving the room so Gaelen could change in peace.
Shutting the door behind him, he sat in the living room, waiting for Gaelen to finish dressing, his mind swirling with images of that beautiful light skin, firm butt, and damn if Gaelen’s legs weren’t something else—, long, and, like the rest of him, lean and …. “Oh godGod, he’s so beautiful.”
“Who are you talking to? Is someone else here?” Gaelen was standing just outside the door, looking around.
“Sorry.” He was about to ask where Gaelen lived so he could take him home when the door opened and Arthur heard Travis’s voice. “The sheep are really doing well this year ….” He stopped in mid-sentence when he saw Gaelen.
“Arthur, who’s this?” Cembran followed right behind Travis, closing the door.
“Gaelen. Mr. Vauk and I found him on the far side of the property near where the creek comes into the river. He fell in and got wet, so I brought him back here.”
“What were you doing on the property?”
Arthur saw fear rise in Gaelen’s eyes. “I got lost and was trying to find my way out when Arthur and the big man you call Vauk found me. Arthur was good enough to bring me back here and loan me some dry clothes.” He seemed very nervous.
“Where do you live?” Arthur had never seen Travis react this way to anyone. He was usually so welcoming, so helpful., and h He kept looking at Cembran, even stepping to block the line of sight between Gaelen and Cembran.
“In town.” Gaelen kept looking from Arthur to Travis, the tension and fear in the room rising by the second. Arthur couldn’t figure it out. This was a stranger;— why would Travis behave this way toward someone he’d never met? And more importantly, someone Arthur was trying to help?.
“Where in town?” Travis’s tone was becoming harsh, demanding.
“Ummm.”
“Uncle Travis, I was just about to take him home.” Arthur moved toward Gaelen to usher him out of the house. Whatever was going on, he thought it best to get Gaelen out of the house as quickly as possible.
“Not until I have some answers. What were you doing on my property?” Travis didn’t even wait for an answer., h His tone was becoming more and more urgent.
Cembran tried intervening., “Travis, let Arthur take Gaelen home.” To Arthur’s surprise, Travis glared daggers at Cembran. He’d never seen Travis react that way before, and poor Gaelen was just standing in the doorway, rocking on his feet, looking scared and completely confused. Arthur had the urge to go to him and comfort him.
“Uncle Travis ….”
“Not now, Arthur!” Travis yelled at him. In the ten years he’d known Travis, he’d never raised his voice to him., e Ever. Travis took a step toward Gaelen, glaring at the scared, confused young man. Arthur looked from Gaelen, to Cembran, to Travis, trying to figure out what was happening. “What were you doing on my property?” Travis stepped closer, glaring at Gaelen, waiting for an answer.
Gaelen opened his mouth, but all that came out was a squeak, and then with a small pop, he was gone.

Discover the rest of Arthur's story.

Uncorked Excerpt

Uncorked by Andrew Grey

This is an excerpt from Andrew Grey's newly released novel Uncorked. I hope you enjoy.

“Come on in,” Bobby Bielecki walked into the familiar office and closed the door behind him. Gregory Hansen sat behind his desk, framed by mounds of papers and books, shelves above him filled with pots, clay models, bronzes, and even glass, the collection from thirty years as a professor of fine art. “What can I help you with today?”
“I need to make sure I have everything set so I can graduate after next term.” Bobby opened his messenger bag, locating the paper he needed. “Here’s my expected schedule.”

The handsome, older man took the paper and studies it carefully before pulling out a drawer and fishing in his files. “Let’s run through the requirements.” Pulling out the degree checklist, he began clicking keys on his computer and adding grades beside the classes. “This is easy. If I ever forget how to write an ‘A’ you’d be in trouble.” Bobby smiled as the man continued working. He wasn’t a straight-A student, mainly because of the general education requirements, but he was a very good student. He smiled to himself as he thought of all those evenings spent with Kenny around the kitchen table, Sean helping them with their homework when they couldn’t help each other.

Professor Hansen finished with the computer and began filling in classes from Bobby’s expected schedule for next semester. “It looks like you’ve got all the classes covered. Have you thought about your senior project?” He handed Bobby the completed check sheet for his reference.

“I’ve tried, but nothing really comes to mind.”

The professor sat back in his chair. “You’ve got a few months before it’s due, but you should start thinking about it.”

“I know. I just haven’t been very inspired lately. Is there such a thing as artist’s block?” Bobby tried to smile, but he’d been feeling this way for a while and he hated it. Everything was a struggle. “I’ve tried wandering the city, experiencing different things.” The professor looked down his nose, a very concerned look on his face. “I haven’t tried anything stupid.” Bobby rolled his eyes, but after some of the things he’d seen the last few years, he understood the professor’s reaction.

“Inspiration can sometimes be fickle and fleeting, and at other times, a bounty of riches so fruitful you can’t work fast enough to capture it all.”

“I know. There was a time when I could pick up my sketch book and my hands would draw on their own. I didn’t need to think; it would just happen. Now, I sit for hours sometimes and nothing comes.”

“Let me ask you a question?” He leaned forward. “When was the last time you felt like that? When things came to you easily and freely.”

“It’s hard to remember.” Bobby sighed. “It’s been awhile.” Quite awhile, if he were being honest. “That seems to fit with what I’ve been hearing from your professors. They all say you’re very talented, bordering on greatness, but there’s something lacking.” He leaned forward again. “As artists, we have to put ourselves into our art, give it everything we have. I think you may be holding back some part of you. What are you afraid of? What is it you’re holding back?”
“I wish I knew. There are times when I can really feel something, but then it fades. I know this has to come from me, and what you’re telling me isn’t a surprise, I just can’t figure it out.”
Professor Hansen smiled, a broad smile that lit his entire face. “I think you’re looking in the wrong place, using the wrong method.” Bobby sat forward, listening intently. “The answer isn’t in your mind, it’s in your emotions. You’re trying to figure your way down a path where you need to feel your way. Let your emotions guide you. Find out what makes you feel strongly and then follow it.”

“Thank you.” He got up to leave, since he could see another student outside the frosted glass door.

“I’ll tell you one thing. When you do find what unlocks the emotional well inside, hold onto it for dear life and don’t let go, no matter what.”

“I won’t, professor. Thank you.” Bobby opened the door and walked into the hallway and down to the elevators, passing a number of students who either said hello or waved. It seemed a number of students were doing the same thing he was. Taking the elevator to the first floor, he walked across the polished tile floor toward the exit, slipping on his coat before stepping outside.

The cold wind right off Lake Michigan easily cut through to his skin and he hurried along to the sidewalk to the residence hall.

He was chilled to the bone in the ten minutes he was outside—thank god it wasn’t snowing yet. He made a quick stop to get his mail and then called for the elevator, riding it to the top floor.
He opened the door to the room. “How’d it go?” Raphael—his real name, poor boy—sat at Bobby’s drafting table, working on an assignment for class. Their room was the epitome of what an art student’s dorm room should look like: a drafting table in one corner, an easel in another. At one time, there had even been a potter’s wheel in the room, and before that, an antique printing press that Tyler had found for Bobby to use on a project.

“Just as I expected. I have all the classes I need and my advisor urged me to start thinking about my senior project.” Bobby flopped down on the small sofa, picking up his sketch pad, doodling a drawing of Raphael before dropping the pad on the table.

“Still feeling blocked?”
“I guess. He suggested I’m looking in the wrong place.”

Raphael put down his pencils and stepped from behind the table, sitting next to him on the sofa.

“Maybe he’s right and maybe you’re just feeling unsettled and nervous for some reason. I know a good cure for that.” Raphael smirked as he ran his hand up Bobby’s leg, then quickly dashed across the room as a pillow came flying at his head.

“Tease!” Bobby began laughing as his roommate picked up the pillow and heaved it back at him.
“Slut!” The pillow flew back across the room, hitting Raphael’s hip.

“Ballgazer!” Bobby called, as Raphael’s throw caught him square in the chest.

“Cum-dumpster!” Bobby was laughing too hard to throw the pillow back and Raphael lifted his arms in triumph. “I won. It took three years, but I won!” Bobby thought he was going to do a Snoopy dance right there in the middle of the room.

He and Raphael had met when Sean and Sam first dropped him off. When they walked in the room, Raphael’s eyes had bugged when Bobby introduced himself and his two dads. As soon as Sam and Sean left, the questioning began. “Are you gay? Was it way cool to have two dads?” Bobby had answered the questions, firing back some of his own, and they were immediately friends. They’d shared a room for over three years, and a bed for about six months during sophomore year. Most people would think the affair, or “affair-ette,” as Raphael referred to it, would have ended their friendship, but it didn’t. They both realized at about the same time that it wouldn’t work. Bobby went back to sleeping in his own bed and that was that. It did have one side effect that neither of them talked about: they never brought other guys to their room. It was just one of those unwritten, unspoken rules they both understood.
Not that there’d been a parade of men for either of them. They’d both had brief flings, but no one captured their attention. That is, until lately. Raphael had been seeing a man a few years older than he was and they really seemed to be hitting it off. Bobby wasn’t sure if he liked this guy, but Raph seemed to be happy, so he didn’t say anything. “Did Simon invite you to spend the term break with him?”

Raphael beamed. “He did. But my folks would have a fit, so I’m spending a few days with them and the rest of the time with Simon. He said he’d take me to New York for a few days.”

“Sounds like fun.” He tried to keep his expression happy, but he couldn’t help being suspicious. Simon always made these grandiose plans that either got canceled or changed to something else.
The phone ringing interrupted their conversation. Raph answered it and then handed it to Bobby. “It’s your dad.”
“Hey, dad, what’s up?”
“Are you coming home during the term break?” His dad sounded so excited.

“Absolutely. I’m looking forward to spending some time with you and Sam. Why?” His inquiry was met by silence, which meant that something was definitely up and Sean was feeling guilty for some reason.

Well, Sam got one of those weeks off and I was hoping you’d agree to work in he store for me.” Shit, he hated it when he sounded guilty for asking something simple. Sean had always put Bobby and Kenny first.
“Of course. Are you guys going away?” he replied hopefully. He couldn’t remember them ever going on a real vacation together.
“Sam’s been looking into booking a week in the Caribbean and I was hoping …”

Bobby felt his smile deep down. “Tell Sam to book it. I’ll work in the store while you’re gone. No sweat.” Then a thought occurred to him. “When’s Kenny’s break?”

“I think it’s the same week. I’ll call and see if he can help too.” Sean sounded so happy. Manning the store for a week was the least he could do. Part of him really wanted to see Kenny—the secret part that still hoped—and part of him was nervous about the reception he’d get. Over the last few years, their relationship had grown cooler and more distant. They saw each other only occasionally and Bobby knew that it was as much his fault as Kenny’s. Even during the summer, Bobby had internships and Kenny often stayed in school or went to summer programs with police departments. Bobby focused his attention back to his dad and they talked a little longer before hanging up.

“Going home?” Raphael asked, sitting back behind the drafting table, hard at work again.“Yup.” This time he had a huge smile on his face. Maybe going home would give him the inspiration he needed. The part of him that still hoped he’d win the struggle for Kenny’s heart.

This title can be purchased at Dreamspinner Press or at Amazon.com