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The Beautiful Moment by Kristoffer Gair

RELEASE BLITZ

Book Title: The Beautiful Moment

Author and Publisher: Kristoffer Gair

Cover Artist: Kris Norris

Release Date: May 31, 2022

Genre: Contemporary Paranormal M/M Romance 

Tropes: Destined to be together

Themes: Grief, healing, true love

Heat Rating: 2 – 3 flames

Length: 76 000 words/366 pages

It is a standalone story and does not end on a cliffhanger.

Goodreads

 

Buy Links

Amazon US  |  Amazon UK  |  Smashwords

 

Destiny offers the possibility of love and, for Wesley, the one thing that has eluded him his entire life: a beautiful moment.

 

Blurb

The decade from hell. 

First, Wesley Traylor lost his father and grandmother, then COVID took his mother. His sole remaining family member will stop at nothing to steal his inheritance. In desperation, Wesley escapes to Michigan’s Upper Peninsula, where no one knows him and he can exist without fear of his uncle’s brutality.

Circumstances force Wesley to the emergency room and face to face with the beguiling Dr. Clark Matsuda. The last thing Wesley needs—between dealing with strange occurrences at his new house and emergency surgery—is a doctor who’s made it his personal mission to get to know Wesley.

 

Destiny offers the possibility of love and, for Wesley, the one thing that has eluded him his entire life: a beautiful moment.

 

Excerpt

Stephen gestured for a nurse to come back in. “Let’s talk out here.” He pulled Clark out into the hall. “No idea if it’s abuse, but his records might give us some insight, which is why I wondered if he brought them. Some of the classic behavioral signs are there; withdrawn, not the most charming when you talk to him and dig too deeply, guarded, and no contacts, except for an emergency contact, who happens to be a lawyer.”

“Also traits of someone who might be in trouble with the police.” Clark hated to admit it, but there was always that possibility. Wesley didn’t strike him as a criminal, though. Not at all, and that was Clark’s gut doing the talking.

“That crossed my mind,” Stephen agreed.

“Are you going to ask a friend of yours at the local Police Department to look him up?”

“No.” Stephen shook his head. “The reason for that is the burn marks on Mister Traylor’s feet. Like I said, I’m guessing they’re from childhood, so I’m giving him the benefit of the doubt and leaning more towards abuse. If it is abuse and someone is looking for him, any check my friend does will be officially logged, and it’s possible the wrong eyes could see the inquiry, and the location.”

Clark mulled the situation over. “I’ll see about getting him into the office, and getting permission to have his records sent here.” If nothing else, the records would be a start. Unless, of course, someone was monitoring to see if his doctor sent those records to a new location. Stranger things had happened, and if someone wanted to stalk or locate someone else, it’d be a logical strategy.

“Be careful with that, okay?” Stephen warned. “We have no idea what his story is, and it may not be something we want to get involved in, or even can get involved in. There was enough drama around here during COVID. You had some complications with the fallout of that yourself. Let’s not invite something else if we can avoid it. Plus, it’s probably not any of our business, or what we’re thinking it might be.”

I’ve had Dilaudid before, and morphine.

Why did those words keep going through Clark’s mind? Maybe Wesley’s story was exactly what they thought.

“He’s probably not going to give me permission anyway.” Clark thought back to his conversations with Wesley and cringed. Had he actually offered to bring the patient a bottle of wine after he recovered? Who does that? Someone who babbles when he’s taken by surprise. “I don’t think I made the best first impression. Am pretty sure he’s not the least bit fond of me.”

“Hey there, sleepyhead,” the nurse piped up from inside the surgical room. “You sure opened your eyes a whole lot sooner than I thought you would. Let’s get you wheeled into recovery.”

He woke up sooner because he didn’t want to go under.

Wesley must have used every bit of his willpower to open his eyes as soon as possible, even if he wouldn’t remember it because of the anesthesia. Or maybe it was fear. Fear could be a powerful motivator.

Clark heard the nurse adjust the pedals on the bottom of the gurney and unlock the wheels in order to move Wesley into the recovery area. He and Stephen stood to the side as the nurse wheeled Wesley out of the operating room and into the hall.

“Let me know if you find anything out, Clark,” Stephen commented, watching their patient go by.

Clark?” Wesley turned his head slowly towards them, stared at the two doctors, or at least tried to. The poor man could barely focus. Wesley grinned, clearly still somewhat loopy from the anesthesia. “Yerr names is Clark?” he slurred. “What parents names their hot son Clarks?”

Stephen started laughing, reached out and put his arm around Clark. “Not fond of you? It sounds to me like he likes you just fine. You may even have an admirer.”

Clark felt his cheeks heat as blood rushed to his face. It looked like he’d have to get that bottle of wine now after all. That was, if he ever wanted to know a little bit more about how Wesley received those scars.

It may be like Stephen said. It may not be any of my business. 

What had Wesley said? You like my eyes. They hated me for them, but not you.

Who hated him? Who hates someone enough to burn the bottoms of their feet, or leave scars on their back, arms, and forehead? Just what the hell had he been through?

I’ve had Dilaudid before, and morphine.

Clark bet he had.

And I want to know why.

 

 

About the Author 

Kristoffer Gair grew up in Fraser, MI and is a graduate of Grand Valley State University. He is the author of 8 novels—some written under the pseudonum Kage Alan—been a part of 6 anthologies, and currently lives in a suburb of Detroit.

 

Author Links

Blog/Website  |   Facebook  |   Twitter  |  Instagram

 

Hosted by Gay Book Promotions


 

 

New Release – Falling Awake IV: Retribution by Kristoffer Gair @KristofferGair

BLOG TOUR

Book Title: Falling Awake IV: Retribution

Author: Kristoffer Gair

Publisher: Self-Published

Cover Artist: Kris Norris

Release Day: June 19, 2021

Genre/s: M/M Suspense, Thriller

Trope/s: The hunt begins now.

Themes:  Loyalty, friendship, sacrifice, love

Heat Rating: 1 flame

Length: 74 000 words           

There are three prior books, Falling Awake, Falling Awake II: Revenant, and Falling Awake III: Requiem which need to be read first.

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Buy Links

Amazon US  |  Amazon UK

 

“Some people are so low, they gotta look up to see Hell.”

 

Blurb 

“Some people are so low, they gotta look up to see Hell.”

The death of Thomas Reis continues to ripple through the lives of those connected to his case fourteen years later. Andrew O’Donnell and Lawrence Boggs have already fallen, but three more pick up where the others left off, and each for his own reason.

One believes in justice, the second loyalty, and the third desperately seeks a reason to live. All three, however, share the same final end game; Retribution.

The hunt begins.

 

Excerpt 

“I’m glad I caught you before you left then. I’m truly sorry.” He bowed his head. “I held your husband in the highest regards.”

“He respected you, too. Can I get you something to drink? I’m afraid I don’t have much. I’ll be leaving in the next day or two, but I think I have some orange juice, and I just made a fresh pot of coffee.”

“No, thank you.”

Norrma led him into the kitchen and sat down at the table, one of the few pieces of furniture left behind until the day she left. Various paperwork lay in little piles on the table, some it from the landlord, and others from the movers, bank, and relatives who’d sent cards.

“Lawrence’s funeral was this past weekend, then I insisted the kids head back to school. I know they wanted to stay with me and help out here, and maybe it was cruel to send them away, but I think staying busy and being around their friends will help them more than being here right now.” She sniffed. “Lawrence would have insisted they get on with their lives as soon as they could. ‘Death,’ he told us many times, ‘is a natural part of things. Living is for the now. Mourning can always be done later.’ He always made sure we knew exactly how he felt. None of us had to guess whether or not he loved us.”

Joe nodded. “His directness is something I appreciated immensely.”

She took a sip of coffee. “The police came, had a look at his case files, and couldn’t really make heads or tails out of them.” Norma chuckled. “Lawrence always had a unique way of organizing things in life that sometimes only he understood. I packed up what they didn’t take. Honestly, I think they confiscated a few things here and there just so it looked good in their report. I don’t believe they’ll ever find anything, though. Nobody really understood what Lawrence worked on, not in the big picture way.”

Joe grinned. “I know the type. Law enforcement through and through. Takes one to know one, I guess.”

“That’s what I was thinking.” She peered down at her cup. “Do you know what might have happened to him?”

“Maybe.” Joe leaned in. “I sent somebody down here from Iowa, a young man named Andrew, who was looking for a case file I’d loaned Lawrence. Honestly, I figured things would go one way, and Lawrence would swat the boy on the ass and send him back home. Turns out the kid had a way about him, and I think they started working together. This tells me Lawrence was already working on a case and they somehow connected, or he found a use for Andrew.

“The problem is, I don’t have a lot to go on. Something isn’t feeling quite right. The parts aren’t adding up, only I’m not getting a big enough glimpse of the picture.” Joe leaned back in his chair. “I need a bit more.”

“Would these help?” She reached under the stack of folders and paperwork, pulled out two large envelopes, and handed them over.

Anybody who knew Lawrence would recognize his handwriting in a heartbeat. Same perfectly shaped letters. Same size. Unmistakable. And the words written on the front? JOE MURPHY.

Joe’s head cocked to the side. Curiosity? Disbelief? Both? And then she saw something else, a tensing in the man’s posture and narrowing of the eyes.

The predator senses prey?

Joe hefted the two envelopes in his hand. “Lawrence left these for me?”

The lump in her throat returned. “That’s why I was hoping you’d come. I think he knew what he was working on might not end well, and he once told me if anything ever happened to him, you’re the only one he trusted to look into it.”

She watched the man run his fingers across the surface of the envelopes, across his name.

“You didn’t give these to the locals?” he asked. “Or show them?”

She shook her head. “Lawrence trusted you. I’ll put my trust in you before them, too.”

“I don’t know what’s in these.” Joe patted the top envelope. “I can’t promise anything.”

“Don’t expect you to.” Norma sat up straight. Strength. Maybe a little pride. “Maybe one promise. Someone took away my husband, my children’s father. Someone took our love, my happiness, and future. Whoever it is ain’t no better than a roaming, rabid dog, and those kinds of dogs get put down.”

He stared at her. He stared long and hard. “Yes. Yes, they do.”

 

 

About the Author 

Kristoffer Gair grew up in Fraser, MI and is a graduate of Grand Valley State University. He is the author of 8 novels—some written under the pseudonum Kage Alan—been a part of 6 anthologies, and currently lives in a suburb of Detroit.

 

Author Links

Blog/Website  |   Facebook  |   Twitter  |  Instagram

 

Hosted by Gay Book Promotions

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