A male ballet dancer walks into a rural small town…
Liam, a professional ballet dancer from New York City, moves to the tiny town of Swan, Oklahoma, with a mission. Haunted by what he endured as a teenager, he returns as an adult to conquer his fears and challenge the town's outdated prejudices. He plans to modernize Swan by opening a dance studio and showing its residents that there's a place for everyone and all should be accepted.
Tate has never traveled beyond the Oklahoma border and knows little of life beyond his small rural town and blue-collar job. Deeply entrenched in secrecy and surrounded by people who'd never accept him if they knew what he hid beneath the surface, he's resigned to a life of lies and loneliness.
Liam and Tate's worlds collide a safe distance from Swan, where they form an instant connection but plan to walk away after one night, no matter how much more their encounter leaves them yearning for. Fate, however, has other plans. When Tate shows up for a renovation job at Liam's new studio, their initial shock gives way to a tentative friendship with complicated emotions.
The pressures of small-town life, narrow-minded family members, and Tate's insecurities threaten their budding connection from day one. Liam is determined to show Tate the beauty of living as his true self, but Tate has seen the consequences of such a life firsthand, and they've imprinted on his mind.
As they grapple with their feelings and the harsh realities of Swan, Liam and Tate must decide if love is worth the risk. Can they find a way to be together in a world that seems set against them?
Liam, a professional ballet dancer from NYC, moves to Swan, Oklahoma, to open a dance studio and challenge the town's outdated prejudices.
Excerpt:
Secrets sucked—literally.
They reached inside a body, found whatever soul a person possessed, and sucked it out like a fucking Hoover on turbo until nothing remained but a walking, talking husk of a human.
Still, that was preferable to having someone rip your actual guts out, which would have happened had Tate not held on to his secret tighter than a virgin asshole.
His secret began long before he understood he'd need to keep it for his whole goddamn shitty life. It began early in his childhood when he'd been a sponge absorbing the toxicity his parents poured on him. Parents was a loose term. Sperm and egg donors turned roommates painted a more accurate picture.
By thirteen, he'd long been caring for himself and his needs. Hell, he'd been more responsible than his damn brother, who was older by three years. Randy came out of the womb a damn fuck-up, feet first, and not even smart enough to take a breath until the doctor whacked him on his ass.
Food? Tate had shopped for it, begged it from friends, and even stole it if he got hungry enough.
Clothes? Goodwill for the win.
Shelter? Their shitty trailer was about the only thing his old man had ever paid for. To this day, they have never paid a lot fee. His mother had been banging the trailer park's manager for as long as he could remember.
Slutty mom for the win.
That left love and affection, but he didn't think someone in their trailer park had experience with either. Even Letti and Jack, the newlyweds in the trailer diagonal from his, hated each other's fucking guts. Oh, they'd devour each other's faces for all the world to see and profess their undying love at the top of their lungs, but their fights could wake the dead, and Letti slashed the tires on Jack's bike last week. New ones were expensive as hell, and Jack worked at a damn junkyard. She wouldn't have pulled that shit if she loved him for real. He had a sneaking suspicion Letti was banging Daryl on the side too.
They lived in a fucked-up town with fucked-up people.
Last week, he heard Old Man Richards, who lived in the first lot in their park, say nothing could shock him after living in Swan for over fifty years.
I could shock him. I could shock the shit outta him.
God, I'm in a mood.
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