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When the Jazzman Sings

Because of a deathbed promise to his father, Elijah Peck reluctantly left his friends and successful career in Bridgeport to return to Willowby, Connecticut, the small town of his upbringing, in order to run the antique shop that had been in his family for generations. Now, in just the span of two years, Eli has morphed into a social recluse, isolated in what he believes is a stuffy, suffocating nowheresville. With no thriving gay community at his disposal, and with his entire existence wrapped around the store he never really wanted, Eli's devoted little time to his personal needs. As a result, instead of acting like a man in his mid-thirties, living out his own dreams, maybe even finding love with the right guy, he often feels like just another item in his shop -- a dusty, moldy antique that has seen better days.<br><br>But all that starts to change when a stranger moves to Willowby.<br><br>One night outside his shop, Eli has a chance encounter with Neville "Gray" Grayson, a wickedly handsome musician who's purposely left the bustle of New York City in favor of quiet country living. Eli is instantly drawn to Gray, and the flirtatious jazzman stirs dormant feelings inside Eli, reinvigorating his hopes for a brighter future. Not only does Gray make Eli feel attractive for the first time in years, but also makes him appreciate small-town life in a way he never has before. And Eli can't help but wonder if Gray's presence also offers the promise of finding much-needed companionship, sexual fulfillment, and perhaps even love ...

Karma Eastwick · LGBT+
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33 Chs

Chapter 10

“You’re damned tootin’. Just picture Desperate Housewivesfor the geriatric brigade. Yet you may be missing out on a grand opportunity. Of greater importance, those depraved broads are also rolling in dough. Now, just imagine how those mesh briefs of yours would be stuffed to the brink with dollar bills, not even saving space for that gigantic willy of yours and…huh…” The cash register drawer slid shut with the jangle of coins and a solid click.

“And what?” I asked, cringing in anticipation of more disconcerting remarks.

“Speaking of dollars, it looks like we need to stock up on singles. Want me to run to the bank?”

“The way you vault from one subject to another can give a guy whiplash, you know?”