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The Darkest Hour

The Darkest Hour
By Wayne Mansfield

ISBN: 9781634860390

$3.99

40 reward points

GENRE: Gay Erotic Romance
LENGTH: 20,125 words
RATING: flame rating 4

Daniel Greene is an artist with an exhibition coming up which he should be excited about, except he isn’t. He can’t sleep, he has no enthusiasm for social activities, and his constant tears and dark thoughts alarm him. When he’s finally diagnosed with depression, he starts the slow process of resisting the dark lure.

One day Oliver Campbell arrives at Daniel’s gate to deliver art supplies. He’s tall and muscular, and for the first time in a long while, Daniel feels there might be light at the end of the tunnel.

Yet Oliver has a secret. He has a son, five-year-old Cameron. When he reveals this to Daniel the morning after their first date, Daniel has the courage to reveal his own secret battle with depression. Will these two men be able to accept each other’s secrets and go forward together?

EXCERPT:
Note: may contain sexually explicit scenes of a homoerotic nature.

    I opened the gate. The uniformed man was carrying a large parcel wrapped in brown paper.

    “That’ll be the canvases.” I’d ordered them the previous day and asked for them to be couriered over. “Could you bring them to my studio?”

    I stepped aside and held the gate open. As the courier walked by I glimpsed the name on his badge -- Oliver. I liked it. Dignified. Kind of old-fashioned and modern at the same time.

    “Where am I going?” he asked.

    I clutched the towel to make sure it didn’t fall off -- although I’m sure Oliver had copped an eyeful when he was peering over the gate -- and hurried in the direction of the studio.

    “This way,” I said.

    I wasn’t ashamed of my body. It was lean and athletic. I was a vegetarian and stayed away from processed foods so I didn’t have to work too hard at staying slim. I was naturally smooth except for the hair on my head and a thick thatch of dark blonde hair around my cock. My only wish for my body was that I was hairier. I loved body hair on a man.

    Oliver looked as though he might have quite a bit. His forearms were thickly haired and there was a small tuft of hair poking over the top of his shirt.

    I opened the studio door and Oliver carried the canvases in.

    “Just put them over there,” I said pointing. “Against the wall. I’ll unwrap them later.”

    “You’re an artist,” he said, looking around the room.

    I laughed. “Right first time.”

    He laughed. His teeth, perfect. His smile, one that lit up his whole face.

    “Sorry about before,” he said.

    I furrowed my brow. “Before?”

    “When I looked over the gate and you were ...”

    He left the sentence hanging. We both knew what I was ...

    “If it wasn’t a problem for you then it isn’t a problem for me,” I said.

    He walked back towards the door and stopped in front of me.

    “It definitely wasn’t a problem for me,” he said, his smile growing. “I did go to the front door first, you know.”

    I could feel myself getting hard. My first instinct was to clasp my hands in front of me, but then I decided that would only draw attention to the area.

    I laughed nervously. “I like to get about in the nude,” I explained. “I live alone so why not?”

    Oliver continued towards the door. “Why not indeed?”

    I followed him out and pulled the door shut behind me.

    “Thanks for bringing the canvases,” I said. “I appreciate it.”

    “Just doing my job,” Oliver replied.

    He arrived at the gate and reached for the latch.

    “Let me get that,” I said.

    Oliver stepped aside and whether by instinct or luck, I happened to notice a large bulge at the front of his trousers. My eyes went from the sizeable protrusion to his face. He smiled nervously. I returned his smile and felt my cock, already semi-hard, swell behind the towel around my waist. He glanced down and when he saw I was in a similar state of excitement, the nervousness disappeared from his expression.

    I opened the gate but didn’t move aside. Oliver had to squeeze by, his erection brushing against mine. I wasn’t sure but I would have sworn on a stack of Bibles he lingered at the point when they touched. I felt my cock twitch and hoped he felt that slight, almost imperceptible, increase in pressure against his.


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This book was published on May 07, 2016.